#like both of them would be so out of it for the next few days at least

[sunrizef1]

Baby Blue

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

Warnings: Slight cursing, not edited

Word count: 3.8k (this was supposed to be short 😭)

Summary: Logan had just misspoke, shouldnt have been a huge problem, right? Wait, what do you mean he said he had a daughter? And is that his girlfriend?

Authors Note: Surpise, not a whiv chapter but instead, an uncharacteristically sweet fic.

Logan had fucked up. Royally. And he knew that, which is why, the second the words had left his mouth, he was grimacing, gaze quickly switching over to Oscar who was sat a few yards away with wide eyes.

It was the United States Grand Prix. Austin, Texas. Logan had been put on the media panel that day since he was the only American present and had the most connection to Austin, Daniel Ricciardo not included.

By pure luck or maybe by sheer will, Logan had been sat next to Oscar, both grateful to have a friend next to them. Fortunately, on Oscar’s other side was Max, a driver who’d always been respectful toward the American. Lewis completed the quartet, another driver that Logan wouldn’t have to worry about in terms of kindness.

When the panel started, almost none of the questions were for him. He’d expected that, he wasn’t exactly having an overwhelming season. Especially compared to the joys and successes of the Red Bull world champion or the unexpected high-placing finishes of the Aussie next to him. And his woes were nothing to write home about when placed next to the declining team performances from the 7-time world champion and future Ferrari driver.

So, as he had expected, most of the questions were asked to his left.

But he’d been put on the panel for a reason, and eventually an America-related question did arise, signaling that maybe he would be of use today.

“Good morning,” the reporter calls out toward Logan and he smiles with a nod toward the darkness where the reporters are all sat.

“Morning.”

“How’s it feel to be back racing in America? You have any family or special guests in the garage this weekend, giving you that extra boost?”

Oscar nudges his knee with his own, causing Logan to let out a small laugh as he glances over. He actually did have some special guests in the garage, not just his own family, who’d come from Miami for this, but also, you, his Fiancée. And his 4-year-old daughter, of course.

Your entire family lived in Texas. So whenever you werent following Logan around the world, you landed back home in Texas, the family home being the best place for your daughter to grow up. It helped that your parents loved her more than the world, constant presents being rained down on the little girl every time you’d bring her. He hadn’t seen you in about two months, not having had a time to come back to America since summer. So having you in his garage for the first time in a while was all that much more of a motivator for him.

He raises the microphone to his lips to say a paraphrased version of that, your relationship not being a very public one yet. Logan wanted to get the wedding done before he paraded you around, not wanting to add the stress of the public on your already existing stress from wedding planning and taking care of your daughter.

“It’s always great to get back home, you know? Uh, got to stay with some family out here for a few days, got some good southern food in me, which was great,” Logan laughs lightly, watching as the reporters grin widens, “And it always feels different when you’ve got important people in the garage, cheering you on. People who don’t usually get to make it, so that’s really nice.”

The reporter nods as Logan puts his mic down, but she raises hers to further the questioning, “Anyone specific? A lot of people were curious about a few different people in your garage.”

Logan nods, your family was pretty well known, especially in Texas. You weren’t famous or anything, but you’d grown up like Logan and when people have that type of money, their names get spoken pretty often.

“Yeah, some close family and friends. You’re probably asking about the l/n’s and I, um, knew them growing up so it’s really nice to see them out here supporting me,” Logan pauses slightly. The internet was pretty sure he had a girlfriend, not that he’d confirmed anything. It wasn’t hard to figure out though, as he almost never shut up about you. But it wouldn’t hurt if he mentioned having a girlfriend, right? Everyone already knew that anyway, it couldn’t do too much damage, “My girlfriend’s here, as well. Really happy to have her here, she hasn’t been to a race in a while.”

Oscar snorts, making Logan glare at the Aussie. Oscar knew you were more than his girlfriend, having been present at the engagement. He also knew Logan was leaving out a key family member in his list, a certain baby being completely unmentioned.

“Well it’s always nice to have your family, right?” The reporter nods with a kind smile, jotting something down on her notebook.

Logan nods with a matching smile, eyes shining as he thinks about you and your family in the garage, “Yeah, and I mean, my daughter-“

Logan pauses, stomach dropping as he takes in the slip-up. He glances over to Oscar whose eyes are wide with shock, mouth dropped open slightly. Max leans forward to lock eyes with the American from Oscars other side, eyebrows furrowed. Lewis looks his way as well, but his expression is soft as he takes in the younger man’s evident embarrassment.

Logan had fucked up.

His cheeks are bright red as all the eyes in the room stare at him, questioning looks on their faces. Logan laughs slightly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks back out toward the reporter who’s now wearing an incredulous smile, “Shit.”

This breaks some of the shock in the room, laughs ringing out from in front of him. Logan shakes his head with another embarrassed laugh, “My girlfriends gonna be so mad at me.”

Logan drops the mic next to him, reaching his hands up to shield his face in order to avoid some of the embarrassment. Oscar, still laughing, reaches over to pat him on the back, his free hand stifling the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

Luckily for Logan, they run out of time before the questions can get back to him and the surprise child he just revealed he had. He’s quick to rush out of the room, only pausing to allow Oscar to catch up before he’s gone again, practically running to Williams.

He can hear Oscar struggling to keep up behind him, shocked laughs occasionally echoing out as he runs.

“Logan- Come on, slow down man!” Oscars calling out toward the blond, Logan continuing at his fast pace. He only slows when he makes it to hospitality, Oscar slamming on his brakes in order to avoid crashing into the taller mans back.

Logans eyes scan the room in search of you, Oscar reaching a tired arm up to rest agaisnt the distressed Americans shoulder.

Oscars groaning as Logan walks off, apparently having caught sight of your family.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N,” Logan says shyly as he walks up to your mom, a sheepish smile painted on his flushed face. Your mom turns toward him with a smile but after taking in his guilty demeanor, she looks at him suspiciously.

“You’ve known me for 18 years and you’ve never called me Mrs L/N,” your mom looks your fiancé up and down, eyes narrowing as she catches sight of an equally nervous Oscar, “What did you do, Logan? And why did you drag Oscar into it?”

Logan laughs nervously, glancing back at Oscar who ducks his head, looking away from the interaction, “Do you, maybe, know where y/n is? It’s important.”

Your mom pauses, suspicion still rolling of her in waves. But, sensing Logan’s urgency, she nods, “She’s in your room with Nat.”

Logan can’t help the smile that shows at the mention of your daughter’s name, sighing slightly with relief, “Thank you, I need to go talk to her.”

Your mom just nods, watching as Logan starts to walk quickly away, moving toward you in his room. Oscar moves to follow but your mom is calling him back before he can take a step, “Stay here, Oscar. Let him go, you’re going to tell me about the season. Either that or you’ll be the one to tell me what Logan did.”

Oscar, having had plenty of conversations with your mother while growing up, sighs, accepting his fate, “It’s been good.”

Logan, though, has made it to his room, opening the door quietly as he reaches it. He smiles once he looks inside, being met with you dancing around with your daughter, music playing from your phone on the table. As the door opens, your daughter looks over, a grin breaking out on her little face as she practically lights up, “Daddy!”

Logan grins as your daughter jumps up, sprinting over to jump into her dad’s embrace, giggling as he lifts her up into the air, clutching her gently to his chest, “Hi, baby. You having fun with mama?”

Your daughter nods, smiling brightly as she turns to look back at you, “Yeah! Me and mama went to see the cars and they let me sit in it! I wanna be a driver like you, dad.”

Logan grins, looking over to where you’re stood, a small smile on your face as you watch the interaction. When you catch Logan’s gaze on you, you speak up, “They let her sit in your car. They told her about how her daddy races every weekend and she decided that that’s what she wanted to do. She said you’re the coolest person she knows, now.”

Logan laughs, warmth filling his heart as you recap your daughter’s words, “Just don’t tell her Oscar races, too. Can’t have her thinking he’s cooler than me.”

You daughter looks up at the statement, confusion crossing her face, “Uncle Os drives fast too?”

Logan hums, nodding as he sways, your daughter resting her head on his chest, “Yeah, he does. He’s not as cool as me, though.”

You daughter hums, “I think he’s pretty cool.”

You laugh, moving toward the father-daughter pair, a serious look crossing your face, “He is, baby. Do you want to go see him so I can talk to daddy?”

Logan grimaces but lets go as your daughter nods, letting you set her down. She wraps her small hand around one of your fingers, swaying happily at the idea of seeing her Australian uncle.

You push the door open to go find Oscar but when you look up, you see Oscar’s already stood there. He looks exhausted and Logan knows that a conversation with your mom was no doubt the reason why.

“Uncle Ozzy!” Your daughter’s small voice calls from below you, causing a bright grin to burst onto Oscar’s face as he picks her up, the small girls hands immediately moving to push against his face. Oscar laughs, moving an arm to support the small girls weight as she pushes his face around.

You smile at the pair, laughing as your daughter grasps Oscars hair in her small fists and pulls gently, just watching as his head rolls around, “Can you watch her? I have to talk to Logan.”

Oscar smirks, glancing over your shoulder to see Logan standing sheepishly, “Someones in trouble.”

You hum, small smile on your lips, “Can you just hang with her for a minute?”

“Yeah, I can,” Oscar says, smiling down at your daughter in his arms, “Anything for my favourite American.”

You hear Logan mumble “rude” under his breath, warranting a snort from you as you watch Oscar walk away, no doubt about to parade your daughter around to anyone who'd listen.

You turn back around, coming face-to-face with Logans grimacing form, “Saw the panel.”

Logan winces, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, “Yeah?”

You hum, stepping across the room to reach your fiance, “Mhm, I did.”

“Im sorry,” Logan sighs, looking anywhere but at you.

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you at his clear distress. Logans head snaps up, confusion crossing his face at your apparent glee, “What?”

“Im not mad, Lo,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stares at you, a puzzled look stuck on his previously fear-stricken face.

“You’re not?”

You smile up at him, shaking your head, “I mean, it's not how I would’ve wanted to announce it but I don’t mind too much.”

“Really?” You giggle when you catch the relief on his face, his shoulders dropping dramatically.

“Mhm,” you tangle one of your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, his head tilting slightly back into your touch, “It was nice to be private for a while during the engagement. We didn’t have concrete wedding plans and Nat was so young. But the weddings basically planned and Nats old enough to handle herself in public, I think it’s a really good time, actually. Do you want to say something official?”

“I will, but until then I’d be happy to not have to hide you guys,” Logan grins, a hand reaching up to grasp the side of your face. You blush as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, untangling yourself from his hold, “But, for now, I think you have interviews to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Logan replies, but his gaze is still locked on you, love filling his eyes, “I’ll see you in a minute, I love you.”

“Love you too, Lo. Go do your interviews,” Your soft smile shines, lighting up your face.

Logan nods, moving to exit the small room, stopping to send you another grin. You laugh, pushing him out of the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

He moves on practical auto-pilot, feet carrying him to the media pen, thoughts of his family stuck on his mind. He reaches the pen quickly, spotting a group of about 8 drivers all huddled together in a chat. He thinks about walking the other direction but Max spots him first, gesturing for the younger driver to walk over. Logan agrees reluctantly, making his way to his fellow drivers.

“Logan!” Max calls, a smile on his face as he greets the Williams driver warmly.

Logan nods, smiling at Max politely, “Hey, Max.”

Max grins, throwing an arm around the blond driver, “How are you doing?”

Logan hums with a small smirk, knowing exactly what Max was eluding to, “I’m great, actually. Thanks for asking, Max.”

Max tilts his head with a wide smile, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know how my morning went.”

Max seems to catch that Logan’s allowing him to publicly address the situation in front of the other drivers, turning his attention to the slightly confused drivers around them, “How’d the Mrs feel about it?”

“She was fine with it,” Logan smiles, “Honestly kinda happy to be open about it.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Lando says from across the small circle, a confused look occupying his face.

Logan shakes his head lightly, arms crossed across his chest, “Fiancée, actually. Been engaged for like a year now.”

This sends a wave of shock around the group, Daniel being the only one to pipe up, a huge smile on his face, “I know what this is about!”

George turns to the VCARB driver, a questioning look laying beneath his dramatic sunglasses, “What are you talking about?”

Before Daniel can explain, a high-pitched voice yells out from behind Logan.

“Daddy!”

Several drivers turn, being met with the sight of a small girl sprinting her way toward the group, a smiley Oscar trailing along behind her. The girl giggled as she approaches her father, skipping along happily as she gets near him. Logan leans down, opening his arms to let her walk into his grasp. She wraps her arms around his neck and Logan holds her tightly as Oscar stops behind him.

“Hey baby,” Logan says to his daughter as he looks down at her, “Have a good time with uncle Osc?”

The small girl nods excitedly, grinning as she looks back over to the man she’d spent the past 15 minutes with, “Ozzy took me to the orange garage, um, papaya I think actually, and I got to sit in another car!”

Logan hums, running a hand through the girls hair, trying his best to swipe it back into place, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh, it was really fun!”

Logan smiles, turning back to thank Oscar for looking after the girl. He turns back around, catching the gaze of about 8 different F1 drivers, all with varying levels of shock painted on their faces, “I don't know if you guys saw, but, um, I accidently revealed i had a daughter this morning and, um, this is her?”

Max is the first to laugh, having already been through his shock about the young girl currently attached to her father. Logans face heats as the drivers stare, Nat burrowing her head in her fathers neck as she tries to discreetly glance at the men around her without having to make any eye contact.

“Congrats, man,” Daniel grins, moving over to clap the younger driver on the back. Logan chuckles slightly as your daughter finally moves her head away from him, her curiosity at the Aussie overtaking her shyness.

The honey badger smiles at her, nodding his head. She smiles gently, reaching a small fist out toward the man. Daniels eyes widen at the gesture, eyes glancing between the girl and her outstretched arm before he reaches his own hand up to fist-bump hers. She nods with a satisfied smile, turning back toward Logans neck.

“He’s kinda cool, I think,” She mumbles and Logan smiles glancing over to see if Daniel has heard her words. Based on the increased grin on his face, Logan figures he had.

The rest of the drivers take their turns congratulating Logan on his fatherhood and introducing themselves to the small girl, her favourites being Daniel, Max, George and Alex, who she’d already met in the Williams garage over the past few months.

Eventually, all the socializing caused her to fall asleep against her father's chest, her tired eyes slowly drifting closed. Logan sways slightly, trying his best to soothe her in her slumber.

Once she's fallen asleep, he turns to Oscar, "Do you know where y/n is?"

Oscar nods, "I think she'd fallen asleep when I went to drop Nat back off. Didn't want to wake her so I just brought her over here."

Logan nods, glancing over to see the other drivers getting pulled into interviews. He didn't want to wake you, knowing how little sleep you'd been getting lately with all the wedding planning and your daughter. Anyone else in your family would be too hard to find on such short notice.

So, when his pr officer calls him over to do interviews, he holds Nat a little bit tighter, hoping the interviews don't wake her.

He smiles at the shocked interviewer as she hands him a microphone which he holds in his free hand, trying his best to support your daughter with one arm.

"Morning," Logan nods, voice low.

The interviewer nods slightly, shaking herself out of her shock so she can ask the American some questions.

"Good morning!" Logan thanks his lucky stars as the woman catches his drift and tries her hardest to stay cheerful while keeping her voice relatively quiet, "I had a couple questions about the panel from this morning but it seems you've answered them yourself before I could even ask."

Logan laughs, glancing down at his girl before bringing the microphone to his lips, "Yeah, my girlfriend was asleep and I didn't want to wake her so this girl is joining us today."

The interviewer smiles warmly, "Before this I saw she was hanging out with some of the other drivers?"

"Yeah, yeah, she was. She, uh, had a good time getting to meet some of the grid. But, you know, all the socializing tired her out."

The woman in front of him nods again, glancing over his shoulder at who Logan knew to be Max, getting asked questions across the pen, "How'd they react?"

"I think they were pretty surprised, you know? I don't think a lot of them saw the panel from this morning and even then, I didn't really give much of an explanation. Don't think Max even believed me until Oscar brought her over," Logan laughs, grinning lovingly at the girl starting to stir in his arms.

"Hi baby," Logan says gently, watching as the little girl rubs at her eyes, trying to pull the tiredness from them.

"Hi Dad, where'd Ozzy go?"

Logan glances over his shoulder, looking for the Australian in question. He eventually sees him, turning his body so Nat can see him as well,

"Uncle Osc is just over there, angel."

The girls nods, a frown still on her face from having to wake up, “What about Maxy?”

Logan grins, happy that his daughter was already comfortable with his fellow drivers, even going as far to seek Max out. Logan turns straight around, pointing behind them at the Red Bull driver, "He's there. And Danny's next to him."

The girl nods, a satisfied look on her face as she spots her new friends. Logan turns back to the interviewer, the grin not leaving his face.

Max, meanwhile, is in the middle of an interview when he notice the interviewer looking over his shoulder. Max looks at the man in front of him with a confused look, the man quick to explain.

"Think the newest addition to the paddock is looking for you, Max."

Max looks over his shoulder to see a small girl, chin resting on her dad's shoulder as she stares back at Max. When he turns to see her, she grins, moving a small hand to wave excitedly at the driver before moving to tug at her father's hair, looking for his attention.

Max grins, waving back as Logan looks over, indulging the girl. She laughs happily, getting even more excited as she spots Daniel beside him.

"Maxy! Danny!" Max looks beside him and sees that Daniel hasn't noticed your daughters yelling and he quickly leans to the side, poking the Aussie. Daniel turns to the side to see what Max wants but is instead met with Max pointing vaguely across the pen. Daniel glances over and grins when he sees Logan and his daughter, the smaller of the two waving hurriedly at the pair of drivers.

Daniel waves back, a grin practically splitting his face. The interviewer sends him a questioning glance and he laughs lightly, "Seems we've got a new cheerleader, then."

The interviewer laughs, quickly returning to the questions. Max, after waving bye to your daughter, turns back as well.

Your daughter, now properly noticed by her new favorite drivers, turns back around, letting Logan get back to his questions. She wraps her arms around his neck gently, smiling in satisfaction as she leans up to tell him something.

"I like your friends, dad."

Logan smiles warmly, happy to see her getting along with his coworkers, "I'm glad, baby."

———————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x reader

[tra1nchi]

Just read a few of your stories and God was that fun, even just got a horny idea while reading some of them like...

Dilf neighbor (who has a wife + kids and a big dick) x bottom innocent male reader

idk if you do non-con/dub-con but I just felt like that would be the kink for the day

I love dilfs oml,,MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader,,cheating,, Dubc0n,, virgin reader,, mirror

He didn't want to,,he never did!! He loved his wife and his children so much that he never felt like he could betray them but then you moved in next door!!

You were so cute to him,,smiling in such a friendly manner as his wife hands you the welcome basket,,feeling his own smile startimg to grow as he watches you let his rowdy boys play with your dog!!

His eyes looked at you so gently as his wife talks shit about the other neighbours in the apartment,,you didn't seem to notice how close he sat with you!!

Growing closer to you over time,,visiting you more and more and eventually leaving both his wife and kids home with the excuse of just going for a walk!!

You were so excited to have a friend like him!! Kind, sweet and almost to the point of being fatherly to you!! You never noticed how he looked at you more lustfully then before,,how his touches linger on you whenever he walks by!!

hoping to god that his wife never finds out as he pounds your virgin hole roughly,, muffling your moans with his hand as he stares at your expression in the mirror!! It was so much prettier then his wife's,,the way your pleads for him to stop didn't say the same thing as your drooling cock!! >□<

Jerking you off in time with his thrusts,,giving you such a good first time fuck as he reaches deep inside of you!! He was too deep in the pleasures of sex to hear his phone ringing,,

"Fuck, such a good boy..taking me so well for your first" He chuckles lowly as he leans forward,, biting down on your neck to leave a very visible hickey,, his hands resting on your ass as he kneads it mindlessly with his large hand!!

His cock was impossibly huge,,no wonder he had such a loyal wife,,hitting yiu in all the right places as his hand that rested on your mouth moved down to your neck,,gripping at it firmly!!!

His grunting and moaning were so audible in your ears,,forcing you to watch as he fucks into you through the mirror,,meeting his eyes before he pulls you down into a sloppy and passionate kiss!!!

#{anon asks} #{bttm male reader} #bottom male reader #sub male reader #x sub male reader #x bottom male reader #{h4rny ask}

[peachypinkygloss]

make you mine — jeon jungkook

You never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jungkook, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's hiding.

★ pairing: incubus!jungkook x fem!reader

★ genre: horror, smut, college au, jennifer's body au

★ word count: 5.8k

★ warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dub-con, jock!jk, implied inexperienced!reader, dom jk/sub reader, unprotected sex, praising, fingering, multiple orgasms, jk's kinda mean but hey he's evil so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

a.n.: here she is guys 🙈 it was both hard & fun to write lol but honestly the result is *chef's kiss*. read the warnings pls thank you!! im so scared of posting it 🥲

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

Jungkook thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart. 

Oh, but that’s actually what happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in. Well, is it still murder if he survived? 

It doesn’t really matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can eat, and god, why does the person on the other side of the pavement look so… edible? 

He feels the dried blood dripping from his mouth and his hands stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and he approaches the person faster. 

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jungkook gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human. 

He was revived from the dead, he can’t possibly be human anymore… 

He has an idea as to why this happened. 

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work. 

Well, at least on Jungkook’s side. 

He doesn’t know where they went — probably out of town, living their best life as if they didn’t murder a guy for their crappy albums to get more sales. 

He’s cursed now, or whatever the hell is happening to him. 

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man. 

As he eats, he suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach. 

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired. 

Argh, what’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that? 

That’s fucked up. 

The next few days are horrible for Jungkook. 

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that were just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either. 

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone. 

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat. 

There’s one thing he’d want, though… 

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do. 

iseul: hey, gguk. wanna study together for tomorrow’s exam?

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

“Hey, man,” Jungkook’s teammate, Doyun, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he states, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jungkook replies, not really caring, but still listening. 

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad. 

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family. 

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive… 

Jungkook rolls his eyes without Doyun noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jungkook explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom. 

Doyun still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jungkook’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is. 

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jungkook has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him. 

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after. 

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years. 

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder. 

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation has become while the professor waits for the power to get back on, wanting to continue teaching his class. 

Jungkook’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a glimpse, reading the text he just received. 

doyun: practice’s canceled.. 

Great, Jungkook thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today. 

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently, the power isn’t coming back in a few hours.”

“Well, I won’t teach in the dark…” 

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach. 

While exiting the classroom, Jungkook gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly. 

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook mumbles and you give him a straight smile, still feeling apologetic. 

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing your form up and down, memorizing it. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every couple of times.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam. 

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it is starting to get really long. 

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing. 

You don’t really know what to think about the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to see it in person, seeing people grieving, freaking out. 

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit. 

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library. 

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here. 

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice. 

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jungkook. 

What’s weird is that you didn’t at all hear him, you could have swore you were alone in the library. Guess he’s a really quiet walker, hence why you didn’t even see him coming out of the classroom the day before. 

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him. 

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jungkook is very tall compared to you. 

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy. 

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder. 

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… It’s- it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a weak voice. 

“Me neither,” Jungkook replies. 

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way… 

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves. 

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator. 

You’re the food he was looking for. 

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away. 

“Jungkook-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running up your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up. 

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours. 

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth. 

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks… and clitoris. 

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jungkook faces you again. 

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement. 

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.” 

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence. 

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting any pressure yet. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?” 

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his tattooed fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face. 

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth. 

He graces the bump of your pussy covered by your panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear. 

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that makes him chuckle. 

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” 

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure. 

Jungkook then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes swell up in water, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit. 

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted. 

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace. 

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain… 

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jungkook murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this. 

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you. 

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jungkook’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jungkook fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does. 

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking. 

Jungkook helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jungkook retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes. 

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more… 

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs. 

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for Jungkook. 

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in. 

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought. 

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact. 

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a second, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs. 

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jungkook pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. 

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. His tattooed hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library. 

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big. 

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all. 

“Jungkook-,” you cry out, holding the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles. 

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely. 

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jungkook makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers. 

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone here apart from the two of you anyway. 

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip. 

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jungkook’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too. 

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in. 

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever passed over you… You’re so- fuck,” Jungkook chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say. 

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. 

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. 

As he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jungkook lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face. 

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. 

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jungkook doesn’t care, he just wants it. 

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jungkook feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you. 

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves — especially you. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down on your notebook while lying down on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running. 

The ringtone of your cellphone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show you that it’s a number from your area. So you pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly a little flirty. 

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly. 

“... Jungkook?” 

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now. 

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.” 

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jungkook.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this ‘animal’. 

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jungkook was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been together. 

Each time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long. 

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were in the same room as him. 

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jungkook seemed to be doing fine again. 

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else. 

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?” 

“Asked Doyun for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Doyun was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jungkook hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?” 

“Wanna go out with me?” Jungkook proposes after a few seconds of silence. 

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea… 

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jungkook. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him. 

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway. 

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end. 

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jungkook showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet. 

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jungkook behind you. 

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jungkook is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him. 

“Jungkook,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly. 

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip. 

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch. 

“I saw… I saw Jia and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face. 

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow. 

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jungkook gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore. 

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

You feel bad. Is he really guilty?

He has to be. You know he is. 

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jungkook registering your words. 

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel good, baby…” 

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you. 

But you get back your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say. 

“You could have everybody you wanted, Jungkook,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil. 

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda a stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

It angers you to a point… 

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before. 

You open it and you rush toward Jungkook, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground. 

Jungkook also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. 

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife. When you find it, you get back up and to Jungkook, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

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#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut

[rootbeerworshiper]

Through the Window

summary: An incident causes you to change schools your senior year. Although your expectations for another bad school year are low, a boy through the window changes everything.

warnings: mentions of bad relationship between parents

a/n: soooo i said i was taking a break and now im writing a series… but! so excited for this it’s been sitting in the drafts for a while and i finally have the motivation. enjoy!

love, sienna <3

I rub my face, the pads of my fingers grazing over my shut eyes as I let out a sigh. To say I was completely exhausted would be an understatement.

The thirteen hour drive in order to get here drained out about every ounce of energy I had stowed away. Sitting in the backseat while my parents give each other snarky remarks, constant bickering on the “correct way” of arriving to our destination.

Moving halfway across the country senior year was not going to be easy, I know this, but part of me had hope.

A chance for a new start.

The fresh Somerville air fills my lungs as I pick up a cardboard box and walk into my new house, ignoring my parents completely on the way to my new room as I place the box on my bed—well my mattress, seeing as we haven’t unpacked everything and i’m living the first few days without a bed frame.

This room was definitely a lot different than my last, off white paint covering the four walls around me and a large window with a long cushioned seat below it. The wood trim reminds me slightly of my old house, like a small piece of it is here with me even though i’m so far away.

I plop down on the mattress, breathing out as my hands make contact with the cardboard next to me. I use what little strength I have left to rip open the packing tape that encapsulates my life, packed into a brown box.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, keeping the loose hairs out of my face as I lean forward slightly.

Given that it’s currently twelve in the morning, I don’t have any desire to fully unpack, just simply reaching into the box for a lamp to illuminate the undecorated room. The room I’m supposed to consider my own.

With the lamp being plugged in I’m able to turn off the overhead lighting, the warmth of the dim lighting immediately making me feel more at peace in this unwelcoming environment.

Somehow, Im expected to start at my new school tomorrow—being given absolutely zero time to settle in.

I don’t even bother changing, just grabbing my toiletries from my backpack to brush my teeth.

As much as I am tired, I also don’t feel completely ready to go to sleep and immediately start a new life, so I reach into the same box and grab out a journal and a random pen.

I opt for taking full advantage of the window seat in this room, curling up in the corner of the crevice, propping my legs up on the cushion before opening my journal.

It’s definitely a little… sad in here.

Journaling is not something I’m good at, but my therapist back home was very adamant on it so I gave it a go.

Once I start writing though, it’s easy to get lost in a trance, only focused on the thoughts in my head and the black ink on the paper in front of me.

This is before the darkness in my room becomes more illuminated by the house next to me, a bedroom light from across now being switched on.

I don’t want to stare, but I’m interested to see who my new neighbours are, so I look over.

My eyes are quick to focus on the light blue room, random sports posters hung up around as well as a few stuffed animals placed carefully on the bed.

Before i’m able to fully examine the room, a boy my age rushes in, slamming his door shut and immediately sitting on his bed, tension formed in his hands.

His brown hair is slightly damp, as if he had just came back from playing some sort of sport that’s caused the strands to stick to his forehead. He looks exhausted—both mentally and physically.

It’s clear he’s upset and soon enough tears start welling in his eyes, not that he lets them fall though. His hands constantly wiping the tears away before they’re fully formed, as if he’s trying to avoid crying all together.

I try and revert my gaze back down to my journal, although it’s hard to focus on my own sadness when his looks so prevalent.

I know what it’s like when it gets bad, and it hurts me to not be able to go over and help, but again, I have no idea who he is.

It’s as if he had no idea I was here until right now, his nails leaving his mouth as he walks towards the window, making brief eye contact with me before immediately shutting the blinds—blocking me out.

I feel a light sting to my heart, for whatever reason I feel obligated to make him feel better. I’m sure his smile is really nice and it’s unfortunate that a frown now replaces it.

I take that interaction as my sign to go to bed, setting down the half completed journal and plopping into bed.

————————————————————————

A familiar alarm rings loudly next to my ear, signalling for me to wake up. I groan, slapping at my phone until the noise stops.

Usually I’d fall right back asleep, but now that I’m awake I can’t help but let worry override my need to sleep.

A new school, a new city, with new people.

Fuck i’m terrified.

I had tried so long to be hopeful, to ignore my parents snide comments about our lives changing for the worse, but being optimistic is kind of impossible when everything in your life is going wrong.

Nonetheless I get up, a surge of energy pushing up my muscles when I think about what im gonna wear—I haven’t even unpacked my makeup yet.

Getting ready doesn’t normally take me long, at least it didn’t a few months ago, but now I’m constantly getting distracted. Picking at the few pimples that have entered my previously clear face and running my fingers along the eye bags that I can’t seem to kick.

I wish sadness didn’t impact the way I look.

I’ve always loved fashion, constantly playing dress up throughout my childhood with my best friends. Sometimes I still feel like I’m playing dress up, putting on a facade, except this time I’m alone.

I shake my head, forcing on a smile that hasn’t been real in a long time, praying that maybe this time will be different.

When I walk downstairs all I find is my mom sitting at the dining table, a laptop placed in front of her as she rests her head in her hand.

It’s clear she’s stressed so I try and avoid speaking, my bus is supposed to be here in a few minutes and I just need to pack lunch.

Because we just moved there’s very little in the kitchen for me to eat, nothing but yogurt cups close to expiry and healthy granola bars that have lived in our pantry forever.

It’s not an ideal lunch, but based on my mom’s tense shoulders and her scattered sighs, it’s best not to interfere.

I make note to remind my parents about my school lunches when they are in a better mood, although that mood for them hasn’t existed in my presence since the incident.

My hands grab at the granola bars, getting a handful and tossing them into my backpack.

I look to my mom once more, hoping to make her feel better. “Hey, everything okay?” I ask, placing a hand on her upper back as I look towards the laptop.

She rejects my touch immediately, turning towards me with a look of distain on her lightly wrinkled face. “Why would I be okay y/n? This town has nothing but cloudy weather and jobs that won’t hire me.”

My attempt to console her clearly failed, her sour mood overriding any form of kindness she could show me. “Really good pizza though.” I joke, referring to the takeout we ate late last night.

“You’re gonna be late to school.” She mindlessly replies, looking back at the job sit displayed on her computer.

She never was one for small talk, but it also wasn’t always this bad. I used to look up to her a lot, wishing one day i’d be just like her, but now I want nothing less.

I just nod with a tight lipped smile on my lips, choosing to slide my shoes on and throw my backpack over my shoulder.

Opening the front door I send one more look towards my mom who shows no interest in me. Is it weird to say you miss your mom when she’s right there?

I shake it off, stepping out onto the porch before coming to a very unfortunate realization.

Fuck.

If my morning wasn’t bad enough, my bus is driving away, the tail end of the yellow vehicle being the only thing I can see down the street.

I shut the door behind myself, my dad took the car and my mom is in no mood to find a solution for me, so I begin walking—not that I know where the school is.

The best distraction for me is music, so I plug in my headphones while simultaneously getting the directions to the school on my phone.

The morning air causes a wave of refreshment to wash over me. I can’t harp on the negatives of my life, especially when the trees are swaying in the wind and the sun is shining.

It’s a longer walk then I expected, but by the time arrive at school I’m only a couple minutes late.

I rush through the halls, mindlessly searching for the numbers that lead to my classroom. This is until I walk around the corner a little too fast and immediately bump into someone. “Oh sorry, fuck I’m sorry are you okay?”

He laughs, not at me for once, a comforting laugh. “You’re good I promise.” He looks at me closer, studying my face. “Have I seen you before?”

I cough, clearing my throat. “Um probably not, I just moved here from Indiana so.” He nods his head, for whatever reason he looks incredibly familiar and I can’t figure it out. “Do you mind showing me to my class? I’m already late and I have no clue where im going”

He smiles warmly down at me. “Yeah I got you.” He takes my phone to look at the number displayed before beginning to walk. “You’re an AP kid?”

“Uh sort of. Just for english, I’m really bad at math and shit.” I reply, following him as he walks casually through the halls.

“Me too, I’m supposed to be in algebra right now but I can’t be bothered” he laughs slightly. “I think my brothers in your class, do you know a Nick?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “You’re a senior right?” He nods. “How is your brother also a senior?”

“Oh we’re triplets, we look a lot alike we’re just very…. different.” He replies, still joyfully walking without a worry in the world. It really must be nice to feel that way.

“Oh I see.” I say, nodding as we walk up the stairs. Walking around the school feels like the equivalent to running a marathon, especially on my lack of sleep.

He motions to a classroom with the numbers i’ve been searching for. “This is you.”

I smile gratefully. “Thank you.” I pause. “What’s your name?”

“Oh I’m Chris” He reaches his hand out for a handshake, a dumb smile on his face. one that I could really get used to.

“y/n.” I reply, returning the gesture.

“Well y/n you should probably get to class, that teachers kind of a bitch about people showing up late.” He advises, running a hand through his wavy hair. “i’ll see you around yeah?”

I nod, maybe too eagerly but it’s genuine. I just made a friend and I could not be more excited, even if I’m late on my first day. “I’ll see you.”

My hand hesitates slightly before ultimately twisting the door knob and entering the class. Almost instantly I feel all eyes in the room on me, the teacher looking more than unimpressed.

Great way to start the year.

The classroom is slightly bigger than my old schools. There’s light seeping in through the windows and the whiteboard is already filled with different literary devices.

I find peace seeing as there’s a large bookshelf at the back, I have spent more than enough money on books so it’ll be nice to read for free.

“Nice of you to show up” She remarks with a tight lipped smile, motioning for me to take a seat.

“Sorry I couldn’t find the class at first, I wont be late again Miss Harper.” I mumble, looking around for a place to sit and seeing an empty chair next to who I assume is Chris brother.

I walk over, an awkward smile on my face as I pull up a chair next to the boy. He seems all too uninterested in me, gaze dead set on the teacher as she goes over what to expect for the semester.

I lean into him slightly after setting down my bag on the floor, if he’s anything like his brother we’ll be friends in no time. “Hey are you Chris’ brother? He just walked me to class and you two look a lot a like so.” He just cuts me off.

“If you’re just another one of Chris’ many fan girls just know i’m not interested in being friends with you.” He throws me an annoyed look before resting his chin on his hands and looking back to the board.

I let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into the uncomfortable school chair and crossing my arms. I’ve immediately lost all confidence I mustered up. I guess Chris was right when he said they were different.

Luckily the class went by quickly and I was able to find the other two classes easily enough. What I couldn’t stop thinking about was lunch, and as the bell rings it consumes me.

At my old school, most seniors didn’t stay at school for lunch, being in the cafeteria is generally not a common occurrence for anyone old enough to drive.

This leaves me stuck. Sitting alone in the cafeteria sounds awful but so does any other option, especially because I don’t even have a lunch today, the granola bar wrappers sinking into the bottom of my backpack.

I walk out of class, taking in all the new places and people before settling on a familiar face that’s smiling back at me.

Thank god.

The short walk through the chaotic hallways is not enjoyable, I’m practically ran into twice on my way towards Chris.

“What’s up y/n? How was your first day so far?” Chris asks. “Was Harper a bitch?”

I let out a breath, one of literal relief as a real smile enters my lips. The first in a while. “It was good mostly, I met your brother in my english class.” I reply, now walking beside him through the crowded halls.

It’s admirable how nice he’s been to me since the beginning, that’s not treatment I’m used to receiving from people, especially not at school.

“How awful was he? On like a scale from one to ten.” He jokes, waving to random people in the hallway that must be his friends. I had zero idea he was so popular around here.

“Out of respect to you I’ll choose not to answer that.” I reply. “He could be worse though, trust me.”

Before he can reply to me he catches the eye of his brother and a girl who I don’t recognize. “Are you coming for lunch?” Nick asks Chris, purposely avoiding eye contact with me.

“I think i’m gonna go with y/n today, maybe tomorrow though.” Chris replies looking down at me with a reassuring smile.

This only earns an eye roll from Nick. “How many girls are you going to ‘take out for lunch’ and then end up bringing home?”

Chris scoffs, but I try my best to stay out of the sibling drama. Part of me just hoped Chris didn’t only speak to me because he wanted to take me home. I just wanted a friend.

“It’s so not like that but you think whatever you want kid.” The longer haired boy replies, now walking towards the back doors.

I follow beside him until we make it outside, the sun now beating down on us but the small gusts of wind making the september heat bearable. “I’ll take you to my favourite place.” Chris says, head still up as he continues walking at a leisurely pace.

I’m not sure where this favourite place will be, but it’s not like I have any other option.

The walk is short, comfortable silence filling the space between us as we approach a large tree in the field behind the school. “Isn’t it nice here?” He asks, sitting down next to the stump, back resting against the bark.

“It’s definitely a tree!” I reply sarcastically, still moving to sit across from him in the grass.

He pulls out a ziploc from his bag, containing a sandwhich that was very obviously made by him. I throw a slightly judgemental look at the messy sandwhich only earning a smile in response.

“What? You don’t think I’m a pro chef?” He asks, taking a bite but keeping his eyes on me.

“No i’m just really jealous of your artistry with that pb and j.” I joke, leaning my hands down onto the spiky grass.

“Tell me about yourself.”

If only it were that easy to just speak about myself. I usually avoid it if I can, instead paying more attention to everyone that surrounds me.

“That’s very vague, I don’t know if I have anything interesting to share.” I reply sheepishly, trying desperately to choose the right words.

He lets out a breath as he finishes the last of his lunch. “You’ve got something I know you do. a mysterious pretty girl from Indiana wandering the halls of a new school. That’s already interesting.”

The compliment takes me aback, reminding me too much of the people who would call me that in my past. “Are you hitting on me Chris?”

He laughs as if it’s the most outlandish thing I could ask. “Definitely not. I mean not because of who you are, you’ll be fine pulling at this school. I just have my eyes on someone else at the moment.”

“Yeah? And who’s that?” I inquire. It’s easier knowing I can speak to him without there being a different motive.

The last thing I want out of this school is to be seen as meat for people to enjoy watering their mouths at.

When I was younger I had so much hope that I’d find someone who wants me for my personality, at the time that meant someone that shared my love for Gravity Falls but now I just want to be admired for what makes me different. I wish that wasn’t so impossible now.

What I notice right away, is how his face lights up at the thought of her. A smile creeping onto his face as he searches for the words he needs.

It’s subtle, the only reason I’ve noticed it is because I tend to observe people. But it’s sweet how easily his cheeks cast a flushed pink at the mere thought of the person he admires.

“Remember that girl that was standing with Nick?” I nod. “It’s her.”

“So why does Nick seem to think you’re a man slut?” I ask, maybe more abruptly than he was expecting.

“I try to distract myself with other girls. Which, I know is wrong, but if I only focus on Olivia then it gets a little depressing.” He admits, now averting his gaze away from me at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Why couldn’t she be into you back? Have you tried telling her how you feel?” I ask, prying away slightly at his feelings. I’m genuinely just curious as to how someone like Chris isn’t able to confess how he feels.

“It’s different when it’s someone I actually like. When it’s other girls it doesn’t really matter as much to me because it’s not her.” Chris replies. “I wanna be done with this sad conversation though, anyone caught your eye here?”

It’s silly to me that Chris seems to think I was focused on dating on my first day here. That was genuinely the last thing I was thinking about.

Nonetheless a face immediately comes to mind, just not one I saw at school. “In what world did I have time today to scope?”

“Well I don’t know, figured you’d be bored during one of your smart people classes.”

“The last thing I need is another boyfriend, that didn’t end well for me.” I reply. I’m not sure what it is that’s making me open up so easily to him, but it feels safe.

“Guys usually suck, I’m one of them. I just need to make it my mission to find you a guy that doesn’t.” He smiles, playfully punching my arm to bring the mood up.

He’s definitely good and making people smile, but it didn’t work on me all that easily when I think about myself in a relationship.

“I’ll make it my mission for you to confess to Olivia, then we’re even.” I suggest, reaching my hand out for a shake.

“Deal.” He shakes my hand in return before checking the time on his phone. “We should head back in now, you’ve been late enough times today.”

I roll my eyes at him, standing up and bringing my bag up with me.

A random car from the parking lot honks at Chris, a car full of guys laughing as if making a loud noise with their truck is the funniest thing in the world. “Are you popular or something?” I ask, now walking back to the school.

He laughs at that. “I just play hockey, it’s a big thing here.”

I nod slowly, processing the new information. “I know fuck all about hockey to be very honest.”

“Well as long as you’re my friend you’ll know all about it, i’m trying to be D1 next year.” He says, now opening the door for me and allowing me to walk in ahead of him. “Do you play sports?”

I let out a small sigh, once again being reminded of Indiana. “I used to in my old town, I was pretty good too.”

“Really? What position?” Chris asks, keeping his attention on me as we walk together despite the many people looking at him in the halls.

“Outside hitter. I really love it but had to stop because-“ I stop myself, realizing just how easy it is to share everything with Chris. It’s more dangerous than it is charming. “Yeah I had to stop.”

He doesn’t push, even though I can see the look of curiosity on his face. “You should play at our school, the seasons coming up.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the best move. I’m new here and I don’t exactly wanna be doing anything to stand out. Easier to just sit back and observe.” I reply honestly, still taking in all my new surroundings.

“Is that what you do all the time?” He asks, a hint of pity lines his words. Pity has never been the goal, quite the opposite actually.

I place a faux smile on my lips, looking up at him right before we have to part ways to our respective classes. “Maybe this year will be different. I’ve made a friend on the first day which is already out of character.”

“I’m happy to be your friend, you’re easy to talk to.” He says, a sappy undertone to his sentence.

An unfortunate fact about me is my inability to accept words of affirmation. I’m not sure why it’s this way, but I think deep down it’s because I could never say those words to myself, so it’s impossible to fathom other people saying it.

My face literally cringes at his upfront lovingness, but I attempt to not look too disgusted. “I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

Chris lets out a small laugh in reply. “My numbers in the side pocket of your backpack by the way.”

“You’re lucky I know about your girl bc you are the most flirty person out there.” I say slightly louder as I turn my back to him, now focusing my attention to getting to class on time.

For the first time in a long time everything feels okay again. I’m not stressed about what everyone’s saying about me and I don’t have eyes glued on me.

In a way it’s nice to be invisible.

a/n: this chapter ended up so long but that’s okay!! let me know your thoughts and feelings i missed u guys <3333

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[ghoulsbounty]

From A Previous Life (Pt 2)

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Preg!Reader

Summary: You find comfort in your routine with the Ghoul, but an evening of bonding turns into harsh realizations.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy, non-detailed talk about experimentations, angst, grief, more flirting (less squinting),

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: The second part to what was a one-shot but the responses were so overwhelmingly lovely about it that I just had to write more! I have more ideas for these two because they break my heart, so part 3 will be happening next week :) I'd love to know what you think 💌

Part 1

A routine had solidified between you both, born out of necessity in this unforgiving landscape. Each day, you travelled further through the barren wasteland, seeking refuge in abandoned structures come evening. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you gathered around the crude fire, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the worn walls of whatever shelter you'd found. It was a skill your companion had imparted through countless arduous nights, a beacon of warmth and security in the darkness.

With the day's journey behind you, you would compare your spoils. Tins of pork and beans, salvaged copper, and screws—valuable commodities in the market of survival. Occasionally, luck would smile upon you, offering a giant mole rat to add to the evening stew. It wasn't gourmet by any means, but a welcomed reprieve from the Ghoul's ever-present jerky stowed away in his saddlebag like a grim reminder of the world you now inhabited.

Few words had been exchanged between you. You'd come to understand that the Ghoul valued silence, speaking only when necessary, and expected the same from his companion. He had provided a brief summary of the world's changes over the past two centuries, yet remained guarded when pressed for further details about his own involvement. Despite your efforts, he remained as enigmatic as when he first found you.

Despite the grim reality surrounding you, you found comfort in the routine. Far removed from the life you once knew before the war, you still managed to extract a glimmer of joy from the simple act of preparing the evening meal. With meagre resources at your disposal—a small iron pot, a battered ladle, and two cracked but serviceable dishes—you endeavoured to create sustenance that mimicked the warmth of a homecooked meal, even in these bleak times.

The Ghoul stood as your protector, his watchful presence having undoubtedly spared you from peril on numerous occasions during your brief time together. Cooking was a way to prove your  significance in your partnership, no matter how seemingly insignificant it may appear.

The heavy thud of boots and clink of spurs against wood jolted you from your thoughts, the ladle in your hand halting its rhythmic stirring of the broth as you cast a wary glance towards the doorway. It wasn't the first time he had left you alone, deeming it safer to venture into the bustling towns without the added complication of a young woman in tow. He had armed you with a revolver and a combat knife, imparting what little training he could in their use, but you couldn't shake the feeling that his trust in your abilities extended only as far as your loyalty not to run in his absence.

"Well, that smell's delicious," drawled the Ghoul, his figure framed in the doorway, hat tipped low over his scarred features. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you couldn't help but return it, the warmth of his presence a rare comfort after just an hour alone.

"Did you get them?"

"You doubted me?" He teased, stepping towards you and offering out a small cloth bag. You accepted it eagerly, peeking inside at the plump, juicy tomatoes nestled within.

You wasted no time in incorporating the fresh produce into your cooking, the aroma of the simmering fruit mingling with the savoury scent of the meat in the broth. Seated together by the fire, the weathered dining chairs offering a semblance of normalcy, you couldn't help but inquire about his expedition.

"Did everything go alright?" you asked, eyeing him cautiously as he slumped back in his chair, a groan escaping his cracked lips as he stretched out.

"Hunky dory," he sighed, his voice tinged with sarcasm, head back and fingers entwined over his stomach. You could tell he was lying, noticing the slight clench of his jaw and his reluctance to meet your gaze. 

It was a tell that you had picked up on in your short time together, one that betrayed his otherwise stoic resolve. For some reason, the Ghoul had taken to concealing parts of the truth from you. Maybe he thought you were too weak, too naïve, or perhaps he simply didn't want to subject himself to further questioning. Regardless, it had begun to grate on your nerves. While you appreciated his protection, you couldn't afford to remain in the dark about so much in this dangerous world.

"I'm coming with you next time," you declared, your gaze unwavering as you stirred the pot, the clinks of metal against metal punctuating your determination. "Two guns are better than one."

A playful glint danced in his eyes as he countered, "Not when you're the one holding it." Yet, the lightness in his tone ebbed away, leaving a hard undercurrent. "Already told you no."

There was a flicker of frustration that passed across your features, but you held his gaze firmly, refusing to back down. "And I've already told you not to underestimate me," you retorted, the fire of conviction burning in your words.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. A furrow creased his brow, his gaze intense as he pointed a finger towards your growing belly.

"And you underestimate everyone else," he admonished, his voice edged with concern. "You think those vultures would take one look at you, at that cargo you're carryin', and let you walk on by? It's every man for himself out here, sweetheart, and the wasteland makes a man do terrible things. You're a commodity, and it's best you not forget it."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the truth settling upon you like a leaden cloak. Despite your defiance, his words struck a chord of fear within you, a reminder of the harsh realities of the world beyond the safety of the little sanctuary you have cultivated together.

The ladle slipped from your grasp, forgotten, as your trembling hands instinctively hugged your pregnant belly. Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as the weight of his words settled heavily upon your shoulders. A commodity. That's what you and your unborn child had been reduced to in this unforgiving world, one that felt alien and hostile, yet one you were forced to confront day in and day out.

Anger simmered within you, a fierce blaze fuelled by resentment towards those who had stripped you of your former life, of the safety and belonging you had once taken for granted. And though you knew it was irrational, a pang of ungratefulness gnawed at your conscience, directed towards your reluctant protector for the loss of the freedom you so desperately yearned for.

In that moment, amidst the swirling emotions and the harsh reality of your circumstances, you felt an overwhelming sense of isolation, as if you were adrift in a sea of uncertainty with no safe harbour in sight. Perhaps even the promised haven would prove to be a deception, like the vault you had been a prisoner in for so many years. Yet, for the sake of your child, you couldn't afford to surrender to despair. Hope would become your anchor, however fragile.

With a firm resolve, you brushed away the tears before they could show your vulnerability, steeling yourself against the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf you. Turning your attention back to the bubbling broth, you scooped two large servings into the worn bowls, the aroma of simmering spices mingling with the heaviness in the air.

Handing one bowl to your companion, you found him slumped back in his chair, his weathered face illuminated by the flickering glow of the fire. His fingers traced the jagged contours of scars etched deep into his weathered face. A palpable aura of silent desperation hung around him like a shroud, casting a shadow over the dimly lit room.

Tucking into your meals in silence, the rhythmic clinking of spoons against bowls filled the room, a familiar melody that spoke volumes without the need for words. Each bite was a small reprieve from the harsh reality that surrounded you, a momentary escape from the relentless cruelty that had become all too familiar.

His voice, barely a whisper, cut through the quietude of the room, laden with a heavy weight of remorse. "I've upset you," he confessed, the words hanging in the air.

You looked up from your meal, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation. Despite the turmoil within you, there was a flicker of understanding in your eyes as you acknowledged his veiled apology. 

"It's not just you," you replied, your voice tinged with weariness. 'I just feel so useless. I can't protect myself or by baby, can't help you without being a burden. I feel like I have no control.'

He nodded, his expression grave as he processed your raw admission of vulnerability and contemplated what to do next. Setting both bowls aside, he reached into a sack he had brought back from the town, his movements deliberate and methodical. From within the depths of the bag, he withdrew a familiar metal gadget, its sleek design reminiscent of the cuffs you had seen the scientists wear during your captivity.

Your breath caught in your throat as memories of your ordeal flooded back, the sensation of cold surgical equipment against your skin sending shivers down your spine. They had treated you like nothing more than a lab rat, subjecting you to experiments and tests that had left scars, both physical and emotional, that may never fully heal.

As he held the device in his hands, his gaze softened, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and trauma you had endured. "I know what this represents," he murmured, his voice heavy with remorse and a tinge of anger. "But it can give you the control you've been denied for so long."

His words hung in the air, laden with the weight of possibility and hope. And as he extended the cuff towards you, offering you a chance to reclaim a measure of agency in a world that had sought to strip it away, you knew that this was more than just a piece of technology—it was a gift, a symbol of resilience. With trembling hands, you reached out to accept it, a silent vow echoing in the depths of your soul: never again would you allow yourself to be reduced to nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game.

As the cuff clicked shut around your wrist, its surprisingly light weight belied the bulk of its appearance. You found yourself staring down at the blank screen, uncertainty knotting your stomach as you grappled with the unfamiliarity of the device. The Ghoul, ever the steady presence beside you, reached over and deftly twisted a knob at the side of the device.

In an instant, the screen came alive with vibrant green text, welcoming you to Vault Tec. An animated image of the grinning mascot of the vaults, a sight you had come to loathe, greeted you with a cheery thumbs-up. You couldn't help but sneer at the sight, the irony not lost on you as the Ghoul swiftly navigated through the interface, replacing the obnoxious Vault Boy with a menu that offered a dizzying array of options.

"It'll take some understanding, but you'll get it in time," the Ghoul reassured you, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos of information overload. "The important part is the Geiger counter—it'll keep you out of trouble you didn't even know was there."

Your attention was drawn to the right of the device where a dosimeter's needle bobbed with the steady wave of radiation through the air. Another twist of the knob and on the screen appeared a walking depiction of Vault Boy, displayed percentages accompanying each limb. Below him, a nearly empty bar filled only with a small green block indicated the radiation count of the user. After weeks spent on the unforgiving surface, it came as no surprise that you had been touched by the poison that tainted it.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the device on your wrist. Looking up, you met the Ghoul's gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes.

Those words didn't do justice to the gift that he'd given you — it was a lifeline, a tool that held the power to protect not only yourself but also your unborn child. It wasn't a weapon meant for moments of attack, as the revolver he demanded you carry on your hip was, but it was equally essential in its own right. The significance of being able to monitor and mitigate the dangers that lurked in the new world was not lost on you. It wasn't just about surviving anymore; it was about thriving, about carving out a future for your child in a world that had become a battleground for survival. One day, the Ghoul would not be there to protect either of you.

"It must have cost so much," you continued, a note of wonder in your voice, and he simply shrugged in response.

"Always something to be bartered in the wasteland," he replied nonchalantly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Don't go crying again, now. You'll give me a bad name."

You chuckled softly. Wiping at your wet eyes with the back of your hand, you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement. "It's the hormones, I swear," you joked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He seemed amused by your explanation, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gave you a knowing look. Instead of arguing, he simply winked at you, and you felt a flutter in your belly—you brushed it off as a small, subtle reminder of the life growing within you.

"Got any more of that stew?" he asked, his tone light and teasing as he reached for his bowl, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his blue eyes.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment dissipating like smoke in the wind. "Of course," you replied, ladling some more stew into his bowl. "I'm glad you like it."

"Oh, it's been many years since I've had a homecooked meal," he told you, his tone tinged with nostalgia as he tucked into his food with relish.

You smiled warmly at his words, a sense of pride swelling within you despite the simplicity of the meal you had managed to put together. It may not have been a lavish feast, but the fact that you could provide him with a taste of home filled you with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

"Maybe we could get some vegetables next time. Carrots maybe," you suggested, a hint of excitement in your voice.

He hummed approvingly through his mouthful, nodding in agreement. "Saw some fine-lookin' turnips on my way out of town too. Reckon you can do anything with those?"

Your eyes lit up with inspiration. "Turnip and carrot mash. We could get some milk from a Brahmin, make it nice and creamy."

He licked his lips, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes as he set down his empty bowl. "Well now, that's just given me something to look forward to."

The two of you talked well into the night, the crackling of the fire providing a comforting backdrop to your conversation. You noticed a shift in the Ghoul's demeanour as the topic veered towards plans for future meals and the road ahead, his tense posture easing as time went on.

Determined to keep his attention and the mood still light, you regaled him with tales of your life before, weaving together anecdotes from your childhood and high school years with a touch of self-deprecating humour. He listened with genuine interest, his deep laughter ringing out like a balm to soothe the ache of your weary soul.

You found yourself deliberately steering the conversation away from his own past, choosing to focus instead on the light hearted memories of your own. You spoke of your best friend Patti, with whom you had been inseparable, recounting the antics and adventures that had filled your days. You mentioned how close you had become, so much so that you had even moved into houses next door to each other and planned out each meticulous part of your lives..

However, you made a conscious decision not to mention your husband, feeling a pang of uncertainty as to why. Perhaps it was a desire to keep Glenn and your companion separate in your mind, two distinct chapters of your life that you were reluctant to intertwine for some unbeknownst reason. Or maybe it was a subconscious attempt to shield yourself from the painful memories that lingered just beneath the surface. 

Regardless of the reason, you found solace in the simplicity of the moment, in the shared laughter and camaraderie that felt like a bond forging between you both. This was the most that the Ghoul had spoken to you in the weeks since you'd started traveling with him, and you relished the comfort that it brought you. Despite the superficial nature of the conversation, there was a sense of intimacy in the shared laughter and you felt giddy at the prospect of you both becoming more than strangers to each other.

When a yawn escaped you, the Ghoul smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nodded towards the makeshift beds you had prepared earlier that afternoon. Two tattered twin mattresses salvaged from the wreckage of a long-forgotten room, a decent width apart and covered with old, vermin-chewed sheets. It wasn't glamorous by any means, but it was a far cry better than some of the makeshift sleeping arrangements you had been resigned to during your journey through the wasteland.

"Go get. That's enough jaw flappin' for one night," he teased, a playful glint in his eye. Despite his jest, there was affection in his smile, a silent reassurance that you were safe and perhaps even cared for in his company.

With a chuckle, you nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over you like a heavy blanket. Rising from your seat by the fire, you made your way towards the makeshift beds, the promise of a few hours of rest beckoning you like a siren's call.

The unwelcome pest of a thought nagged at you, persistent until you found yourself unable to ignore it any longer. With a determined resolve, you moved back towards the Ghoul, your steps fuelled by a sense of urgency you couldn't quite explain. Ignoring the look of alarm that flickered across his face, you leaned over awkwardly as he sat in his chair, and wrapped your arms around him in a brief but heartfelt embrace.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to stand still as you felt the surprising warmth of his strong arms around you, the comforting weight of your pregnant belly nestled between you serving as a tangible reminder of the life growing within you. You wanted to thank him, to tell him that this simple gesture meant more to you than words could express—that it was the most human you had felt since thawing from that cryo-chamber all those weeks ago.

But before you could find the words, your thoughts were shattered by the rapid clicking of the dosimeter. Startled, you pulled back, confusion clouding your features as you looked down at the device on your wrist, its needle flitting erratically with each click.

As you glanced between the dosimeter and the Ghoul, a sense of realization began to dawn on you. His eyes remained downcast, his expression unreadable, but the sudden silence of the dosimeter spoke volumes.

In that moment, the pieces began to click into place, like a puzzle slowly revealing its hidden picture. You knew that everything on the surface was a danger, that radiation flooded every inch of land and contaminated everything it touched. Every mouthful of food you took, every swig of water, every wash of your body—each was a necessary risk in the struggle for survival.

But naively, you hadn't stopped to consider the threat that the Ghoul posed—not beyond the immediate danger of him putting a gun to your head or the possibility of him selling you to the highest bidder.

As the suffocating realization settled over you, you felt the overwhelming sense of isolation creep back in, wrapping around you like a vice. Your protector was also your potential killer, and he had wanted to ensure you had a Pip-Boy—to keep you out of trouble you didn't even know existed.

He had given you the knowledge, the control, to make your own findings and decisions, all for the sake of your unborn child. And yet, despite his intentions, you couldn't help but feel a hint of betrayal. You almost wished you could have remained blissfully ignorant about this particular aspect of life on the surface. It was as if you had lost a friend you hadn't really ever had.

"You keep that thing on," he said with a hint of sadness, pointing to your wrist. The only acknowledgement of what just happened. You nodded silently, your hand instinctively running over the cool metal of the Pip-Boy before you turned away.

"Goodnight," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you retreated to your bed. With each step, the weight of the truth bore down on you, a heavy burden you would carry with you as you drifted into a troubled sleep, haunted by the knowledge that even in this new world, friendship was a luxury you could ill afford.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout prime #fallout fanfiction #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout x reader

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣

A Fair Trade

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,980

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.

Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.

Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.

To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.

Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.

Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.

Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.

But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.

Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.

The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.

The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.

You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.

"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."

You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.

"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.

On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.

"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.

However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.

"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.

"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.

"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.

The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.

"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"

The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.

"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the fuck ever." he grunted.

You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.

"Where's my bag you took from me?"

Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.

As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.

The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.

"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.

You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.

"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.

You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.

"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.

You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.

"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."

You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.

"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.

"Mmm. How about you crawl?"

You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.

"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.

He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.

"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.

Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.

Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.

"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."

You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"

Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.

"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.

"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.

The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.

"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."

Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.

Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.

One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.

The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.

After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.

It was going to be a long night.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

[astralis-ortus]

weighted blankets and projector

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— as long as you're happy, then chan is happy too.

w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. very soft fluff. warning → none! a.n → originally wanted this to be a single post with streetlights and warm nights, but the fluff would be out of control (and i got too delirious to actually continue writing lol) sooo here's the second part!

although chan loves adventures, he also doesn’t mind spending your date nights inside.

foods and games would be the most important factor chan takes into consideration. your pool of dinner choices might be a little more limited when you’re bound to a certain location, but that’s what his little games are for.

you’re feeling like having some fried chicken? of course he’ll get them for you, but make sure you win the rounds of truth or dare or you might not be able to get even a single bite of those golden goodness (who are you kidding—he’ll definitely cave once you put on your puppy eyes, just like how seungmin taught you). hot pot night? no worries, his uno cards will help you two determine whether your dinner of the night follows his mild tastebuds or your daring ones. chan will get your every dinner requests, and put a fun twist on them just to see your smile.

when all the food is gone, chan would then pull out the weighted blanket he bought and kept especially for your date nights, all under the pretense of ‘i heard it’s good for you’ (when in actuality, he just needed wanted a tiny extra help in keeping you glued to his side).

what you’ll be doing from then on is a free arena—there are days where you’d just talk for hours on end, laughing at whatever silly things each other would say. on other days, you’d spin a wheel and let fate choose which of your all time favorite movies will you be rewatching that night (which, oddly enough, mostly fell to either the deadpool series or a few ghibli movies). there are also days where both of you decided to just melt next to each other while doing your own thing—chan with his laptop, while you, on the other hand, finishes the book you’ve been dying to read all throughout the week.

just as you’re about to feel drowsy after all fully digesting your dinner, chan would then draw a warm bath for you to relax in, bath bombs and all. he’d always tell you to take your time when you’re having your bath; he needed the extra time to pick out your set of matching pajamas set (yes, he wears one too), as well as setting up the candles and the new galaxy light projector he just bought a couple days ago. you once told him it looked pretty, and being the good boyfriend and devoted astrophile he is, of course he remembered it.

if your bath was chan’s way of taking care of you, then you doing his skin and hair care routine is your way of taking care of chan. you always treasure every opportunities you have to be so up close with him, taking note of his features while he’s surrendered under your gentle touch. you’d note every single speck of his freckles, every stray curls on his forehead, every faint smile lines he had etched over the years on the surface of his skin, which only grew in definition after he met you.

and you fall in love again.

maybe a little bit harder,

maybe a lot deeper.

now all warm and cuddled up under the layer of comfy duvet, you finally snuggled close to chan, allowing his body heat to entirely encapsulate you. the echo of his heartbeat is loud and clear, turning you all blush and giggly while sleep gently knocks on your eyelids. chan would say a couple things—noting how nice your new shampoo smelled, or how soft the layer of pajama is over your skin, but when he noticed your absence of reply, his smile would soften as he watches your sleeping face. chan would place a kiss on your forehead and held you tighter, wishing that even in his dream, the only person he would see is you.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

#stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids au #skz au #bang chan au #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #bang chan headcanons #stray kids x you #skz x you #bang chan x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #isa's fics #isa's headcanons

[ginnyluna]

I've been thinking about Reyna lately. Specifically, about her romantic interests. Like, how she was supposedly in love with Jason before the swap, but did nothing when he disappeared, and then developped a crush on Percy in like three days. I know i'm not the only one thinking it's a bit weird and out of character for her, and i had a thought on that.

Headcanon alert: Maybe becoming Praetor isn't just about leading the legion. Why are there always two praetors, a boy and a girl? What if New Rome expects their praetors to get together, after their service? You gotta understand, yes there are many citizens in New Rome, but the thing is, there are very few actual demigods, those people are almost all legacies, several generations after a demigod, and almost none of them have any real power anymore. Maybe New Rome needs to insure they keep having powerful warriors to fufill their leadership positions. What better way to insure that than artificially putting two of their most powerful warriors together?

It's not necessarily obvious, more like an unwritten rule, but when two praetors are chosen, they know it comes with expectations. Praetors are good at meeting expectations, after all. And New Rome's senators are there to remind them of those expectations. To make things easier, when picking their next two praetors, sometimes, the Senate chooses two teens who are already a couple, if both are powerful enough. Sometimes, they may pass over a potential praetor if they explicitly refuse to be a part of this kind of engagement, or if their parents want to protect them from that. And sometimes, the Senate picks two powerful orphans, one who spent his entire life following the rules and trying to meet expectations, and one who just lost her family and would do anything to belong to a new one - bonus points if one is an extremely rare son of Jupiter, they'll definitly want to insure that this specific genetic will be passed on to the next generation.

So. I don't think Reyna was ever in love with either Jason or Percy (at least, to me, it really didnt' feel like it when reading her pov chapters). I think maybe she was just expected to be, so of course she tried to be. Reyna has always been a rule-follower, after all, she always does what is expected of her, she understands the hierarchy's needs. And maybe she longs for a family of her own, too, and Jason is a really good guy, it would be a really good match, so if that's what the legion expects of her, why not go for it.

#pjo #pjo headcanon #pjo hoo toa #hoo #hoo headcanon #camp jupiter #camp jupiter headcanon #cj headcanons #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez #reyna headcanon #jason grace #percy jackson #percy jackson fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo

[copperbadge]

I went to the library this afternoon, intending to get a study room and do some work on the novel, but I got distracted and ended up spending the two hours working on a short story instead.

Georgie has said that Michaelis hired her after she rescued his friend's child from a kidnapping, and it was suggested to me recently that the friend could be Oliver McAllister, Michaelis's old school mate from Pirates of the Riviera. I was skeptical because the timing didn't quite work out, but I couldn't stop thinking about the idea, so I decided to try making it work.

And let me tell you, these messy bitches.

In 2015, Michaelis is deep in his Kingbot 3000 phase so he doesn't have to Have Feelings, and Gregory has coerced him into taking a vacation by threatening a coup. Meanwhile, Olly is fresh from his second divorce, from a woman who just tried to kidnap their child. Georgie is the most together person in the room and she's an unemployed twentysomething who just beat three men unconscious to prevent said kidnapping.

And the most amusing part to me is that because of how I set it up, Michaelis is just trying to be friendly but inadvertently keeps coming across like he's trying to seduce Georgie. Which also makes Georgie joking about trying to marry him for his money in Royals/Ramblers even funnier.

"Ma'am, the police would like to take a statement," Lael said to Georgie.

"I can have Lael find you a lawyer if you want," Michaelis added. She gave him a sardonic look. 

"All right, let's get it over with," she sighed. "There goes my visit to the Musee D'Orsay."

"We'll give you the room. Olly, why don't you go in with your boy, so the police can speak with you if needed. Lael and I will be at the cafe next door when you've finished."

Georgie nodded, but he stopped as he passed her and put a hand on her arm.

"Come see us when you're done," he said quietly, ducking his head so the police at the doorway couldn't see their faces. "And cancel your job interview in London."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Stay in Paris. You can see the museum this weekend. The palace will cover your lodging and food."

"I...don't want to offend," she said slowly, "but I'm not -- " 

"I'm not flirting with you," he said, realizing belatedly how it might seem to her, and taking his hand from her arm. She looked faintly relieved. "I'm going to spend the time you're giving a statement assembling a job offer for you with my security office. Any young woman who can spot a kidnapping before it happens and soundly beat three grown men should not be leaving Askazer-Shivadlakia to do a job she hates in London. Now, regardless of that, and I say this as a concerned friend, not as king or employer: be honest and helpful with the police, but...economical."

"Just the facts?" she asked. 

"Exactly." He gave her an approving nod and followed Lael out. They were silent in the hallway and lobby, until they stepped out into the street and Lael exhaled.

"That was impressive," he said. "Young lady has a great right hook."

"She's certainly very alert," Michaelis agreed.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone throw a punch like that."

"Say it and you're fired," Michaelis said good-naturedly. He'd known Lael since the head of security had been a young palace aide during Michaelis's first days as king -- if still years older than the king himself -- and he knew what was coming. 

"Not since our last trip to Galia," Lael said, voice full of relish. "That time a young hothead punched Duke Tomas in the face."

"Utterly fired. I've found your replacement. I'm putting you out to pasture with no pension." 

"You think she'd make a good successor to me?" Lael asked. He was joking but, simultaneously, he was not -- they were both getting older, and Lael was as aware as Michaelis that when a new king was elected in a few years, whoever it was, they would need someone younger, someone who could more easily keep up with them. 

"You tell me," Michaelis said. "You're the expert." 

"Oh, I've been fired, clearly my opinion isn't wanted," Lael said, as they settled into a table at the cafe, Lael with his back to the wall, eyes always scanning behind Michaelis. There had never, at least as far as Michaelis knew, been an attempt on his life, but he'd become used to never getting direct eye contact in public from the man whose job it was, after all, to watch his back. 

"Fine, I withdraw your firing. I suspect purely on her ability to sass me, she is your equal if not your better," he added, as the waitress approached. He ordered coffee and pastries briskly, then turned back to Lael. 

"Well, it's difficult to tell on two minutes' acquaintance," Lael replied, "but actions do speak louder than words." 

"Agreed. Perhaps a contingent offer? She has a law degree; she could likely earn more than we could offer her for a job like yours, but I think she's looking for the right job, not the right pay. Say three months of probation with guaranteed six months of pay to ensure she takes it, and a firm permanent offer at the end if you approve? Conditions non-negotiable but a bit of wiggle room in the salary, I think." 

Lael considered it, then nodded. "I suppose it's paranoia to imagine she might have arranged all this to get into the Palace employ."

"As what, a spy? I love a thriller novel, Lael, but they are fiction," Michaelis replied, amused.

#shivadhverse

[cjrights]

here m sorry these took so long...life is lifing. Anyways lil bit of suggestive scenes, some injury description, and some good angst. So pls just read at your own risk and once again I'm sorry if these aren't as good.

"You know we gotta get up pretty girl," your girlfriends words make you whine softly and bury your face into her chest, nuzzling tighter to her warmth. For once, you were the one being over clingy instead of Paige and while she did love the attention she did not love the fact that you had a game that you would soon be late for if you didn't get up.

"Babe come on, you know I'd cuddle you all day but you've got a game."

"But it's so cold! I'm warm blooded and need to stay that way!" You protest and your girlfriend rolls her eyes.

"I-it's not that cold..." she states faltering slightly as she looks out the window. While the calendar said spring was in the air and flowers would soon be following showers, Uconn had not gotten the memo and it was a toasty 29 degrees with snow flurries filling the windy air.

You snort into her chest. "Fucking bullshit and you know it. And why are you whining so much? You get to stay in bed with your girlfriend all day," you remind her kissing lightly at her collarbone, smirking at the way she goes stiff instantly. "All nice and warm inside and we don't have to leave."

Your abruptly cut off by Paige yanking herself out of bed, making you whine softly at the loss of body heat and your pillow. "I know pretty girl, I want to stay to but your coach might shoot me if I let that happen. Now come on, time for breakfast."

Begrudgingly you grabbed your blanket and followed after her to the kitchen. She'd picked up a pack of your favorite wild-berry protein muffins and grabbed two bananas and started to slice them up once you'd entered. "Glad to see you with the land of the living," she teases, and you know she just wants to get you annoyed.

"Shut it Bueckers," you grumble, sitting at the counter and shoving a chunk of muffin into your mouth, "and be grateful you managed to get me out of bed."

"Funny how a few months earlier I was grateful I'd managed to get you in bed."

At that you feel your cheeks go red, and Paige chuckles fondly pressing a kiss to the side of your head and settling into the bar stool next to yours. Pouting slightly at her meaness you swivel your stool away slightly.

"Awe, pretty girls in a bad mood?"

"Yeah no shit. I'm about to go play a game in snow, wind, and thirty degree weather. How the hell am i supposed to be cheery?"

"By knowing your totally awesome and hot girlfriend will be there to cheer you on and then warm you up after?"

You just grumble and nod slightly before finishing your breakfast. Not bothering to wash the dishes you opt for sticking them in the sink and shuffle over to the ensuite bathroom, Paige mirroring your every move. She happily follows, and you both grab your toothbrushes hurrying through the dental routine, Paige pouting as you hold up a flossing stick. "Is this really necessary..."

"Yes. If you think I'll date someone with a gross mouth you've got another thing coming."

"Fine."

You quickly do your skincare, quite minor really, just some cleanser and a quick lip balm. "I don't even know why I do my skincare before game day. The eyeblacks so oily I'll just break out," you whine up at Paige.

"I mean you could just skip the eyeblack."

"Can't that would mean badluck and badluck would mean the team would lose and it would be my fault. So not happening."

"I think  you like to over analyze things."

"Eh whatever, I'll just stick a patch on whatever giant whitehead I'm blessed with."

Paige rolls her eyes and lets you leave her to finish up in the bathroom. You hurriedly scramble into the navy and white uniform , not wanting to give Paige enough time for more distraction. Grabbing a spray bottle and detangler you carefully work out the knots that had formed with a comb and as you do so Paige emerges, now looking clean and wide awake.

"Hair time?" she asks.

"Hair time. Can we please do Dutch braids again?"

She shakes her head, smiling fondly. "Course, my princess never wears anything but Dutch braids," she states, settling down onto the bed and pulling you into her lap, then grabbing a tray of elastics and beginning to weave one side of your hair. You blush slightly at the close contact, your back flush against her chest but relax quickly realizing you could feel her heartbeat perfectly at this angle.

"You know it would be a lot more fun if you knew how to braid to. That way we could each do each others game day hair," she exclaims suddenly, making you wince slightly at the tug.

"Baby ow! Tender headed here! And are you sure you want me doing your hair? I've had so many people try and teach me and I fail each time. I wouldn't want to mess up your gameday look."

She pauses for a moment then looks down at you with pleading eyes. "Pleassse? I love haiving my hair played with and it would be even better if it was you babe..." Paige glances down at you with puppy like eyes.

"Alright I'll give it a try....just don't blame me when Azzi has to rush to fix it before one of your games!" You add quickly, not wanting to face the brunette, who you truthfully, thought was the scariest of the basketball team, followed only by Nika.

"Yes!" she exclaims like an excited five year old. "Thank you babe!"

You roll your eyes, but can't help find the childlike excitment sort of endearing.

"And we are done!" she declares, releasing your hair and then holding up a mirror so you could inspect. Two simple Dutch braids now tied down your slightly wavy hair and plain white elastics that matched your uniform were present.

"Thank you baby," you state, reaching up and pecking her on the cheek affectionately. "Ready to do my eye black?" You ask glancing down at your phone to make sure you weren't late.

She grins, "course I'm ready!" Three swoops down, two swoops across, repeat the process on each cheek and your eyeblack was done. Two simple cross like designs on each of your cheeks. "Perfect!" She declares.

"And just in the nick of time because I have got to go!" You state getting up and beginning to collect your last minute necesseties. Paige slips out of the room as you do so, and when you walk out tugging on your coat she offers you a full freshly iced water bottle, sunflower seeds, and some watermelon sourpatches, a particular dugout snack of yours. "Thank you Paigey," you state, getting up on your tiptoes to press your lips to hers, a kiss she eagerly accepts. Although you'd woken up a bit grumpy, you were certainly smiling when you left the apartment. Who wouldn't be when they got to a spend a morning with a girl like Paige?

10. Accidentally trauma bonding over injuries.

"So, what do you think is wrong with her again?" Paige asks, and you resist the urge to groan at your overprotective girlfriend's question. While she meant well, she'd also asked the same damn thing about a hundred times in the past half an hour.

"Paige, baby, she already told you. We. Don't. Know. Yet." You emphasize every word and shoot an apolegetic look at the athletic trainer, while you perform the girlfriend equivalent of gentle parenting. "I know you're worried about me and I appreciate that, but theres no need to keep harassing the poor trainer, she's not going to time travel forward or anything. Sorry about that," you add to the trainer who just smiles fondly.

"Don't worry about it, you think Paige isn't the same way when one of her teammates get hurt? She might act all big and tough but she's one of the biggest team mamas rve ever seen." Laughs the athletic trainer, which you join in on once Paige goes red in the face.

"I am not a team mama for making sure my teammates are ok!"

She rolls her eyes. "You are when you won't leave their side and sit here fussing over them."

Someone emerges back into the room. I don't know his exact position but I was pretty sure he was the trainers supervisor or something of that sort.

"Alright so I've got good news for you. You didn't tear or rupture anything, just overstrained the hell out of your upper leg."

A breath you didn't know you were holding leaves your lips. Honestly you didn't know what had happened, you'd be running the bases and when you went to round one, your entire right leg slipped out from underneath you, slamming into the ground and basically hyperextending itself. When you tried to stand up to prove you were ok your knee simply buckled at the weight.

"Fuck. How long am I out for ?"

"As long as you need to heal." Your girlfriend states firmly.

"And in your eyes I'll be healing for fucking ten years."

"Don't worry it won't be ten years. You just yanked a lot of muscle and tendon from where they weren't supposed to be. Should be a month, two months tops." You didn't hear the rest of what she said. A month? Fucking two months? You couldn't be out for this long...the team needed you and you had to play and no playing meant you were practically useless. 

 "We'll give you some stretches and other home remedies as well," explained the supervisor, opening up a filing cabinet and leafing through various exercises. She hands you a sheet of cardstock displaying various stretching positions, most done with two people. "Now these are all simple enough if you follow the directions. Although you'll need someone to help you."

"Don't worry I got it."

"Of course, you do..." you mutter under your breath in slight annoyance as you sit back, heart clenching weakly. You didn't want to be out...you wanted to play and be a part of the softball team that had proven to be your most stable family in years. Paige murmurs something to you and your not sure you truly process it, you just nod numbly, trying to process. Why had you been so stupid? Why couldn't you have just not gotten injured. If you hadn't you would've been helping the team and- 

"Babe? We're home now." Your girlfriends gentle tone breaks you out of your train of thought and you look around. When the hell had this happened? Had you really been that delirious? You try to think of a response but before you can, Paige has the engine turned off, her door opened then closed, and now is scooping you up bridal style ignoring your dead annoyed stare. 

"Paige."

"Hey don't be that way. You need to stay off your hip for a while. And the trainer said to use RICE, which if I'm not mistaken, two massive components are rest and elevation, both of which I'm doing right now," she states, carefully carrying you up to the door and reaching into her pocket, slightly struggling to pull out the house keys. 

"Jesus Christ I can take care of myself. You don't need to baby me..." you mumble, and to your relief Paige resultantly sets you down.

 Admittedly, you lean heavily on the wall for support, stumbling carefully towards your bedroom. Your hip twinges with each step sending a searing feeling of pins and needles going up through your leg. The pain is so unbearable you want to just flop on the floor right there. But your pride nags at your gut. It wants you to not be worthless to prove that your better than this stupid injury and that your worth is more than being a softball catcher. 

Your girlfriend follows you, soft blue eyes wide with concern and caution, always ready to catch you in case you fell. Although it probably took you triple the amount of time and some small tears, you reached your bedroom, sending a warm streak of pride through you. Yes! You could still do something and not be totally worthless to everyone around you. Flopping down face first into the bed you breathe in the warm scent of your girlfriend, which lately seems to have taken over all of the bedding. As annoying and overly protective as she might have been you did love her- and how she smelled like vanilla and cinnamon rubbed into a body.

You don't know how long you lay there before Paige comes in. "Baby? I've got your ice and some ibuprofen, the trainer said you need to take it twice a day, supposed to keep the swelling n stuff down and help you out."

"I don't wanna...I just want my stupid fucking hip to not be a broken mess," you whine slightly. "It's barely been two hours and I miss softball. How the hell can I be out for a month? Hell, two months?"

You don't realize you've started crying until you feel the feather light brush of Paige's thumb against your cheek. "Hey, hey, I know it hurts babe, I know," she soothes, quick to pull you against her with a hug, something you gratefully accept and use as an opportunity to nuzzle into her collarbone.

"It makes me feel worthless," you mumble, and somehow the confession hurts ten times more than hyperextending your hip every did. "I mean, I'm not that smart or pretty or anything else. M'just a catcher and that's all I've ever been." You were no fool, you hadn't come to UConn because someone thought you'd were interesting or smart or stood out. Nope, you were just an athlete.

She pulls you back, forcing you to look her in the eye. "No. You are so much more than that. Don't you ever say that. You are beautiful, you are smart, you are the most amazing and caring person I've ever met. You never ever say that about yourself, you hear me?" She practically demands, tilting your chin up so you look her head on, and that ice blue gaze in inescapable. "Please baby, listen to me. This is how I felt with my ACL. Worthless," her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears. "My life was turned upside down I couldn't do what I loved and suddenly the girl who was supposed to be a star turned into the wannabee player who rode the bench and was worthless in the eyes of the media. But I healed and I just kept trying to remeber. Its not all for your coach, or teammates or the media. It's just for you. Healing through that injury made me stronger and helped me recognize that I was far more than just a basketball player, and now it's time I help you do the same." 

By the end of her little speech both of you are in tears and you felt shitty. How the hell had Paige not told you about this, how had you not noticed. How much of a shitty girlfriend were you. 

"M'sorry Paige, I should've done something." You mumble and her eyes widen in surprise. 

"What? Baby, no, no, that is not your fault in the slightest. You can't change how someone else feels only influence it." She reaches out to grasp your hands and you squeeze hers and her thumbs circle over your knuckles soothingly. 

"I guess we both needed this..." you mumble after a few minutes of relative silence. 

"Yeah...and lets promise not to bottle all of this up. Its not good for either of us, especially knowing we have the other to help us through it."

You smile slightly, eyes still glistening with tears. "Yeah, promise."

11. Post game showers with Paige >>>>>>>>>>>>>

The bright lights overhead suddenly wake you up from your reclined position in the passenger seat of Paige's car. You whine sleepily and rub at your eyes. Paige is out of the driver's seat, presumably pumping gas based on what you can see. 

Tonight, had been long. You'd gotten to school at twelve expecting to play a three o'clock game. Then a freak rainstorm had hit, drenching the fields and pushing playtime back till five. Worse yet, the entire game was close, and you only just pulled a win out of your ass at the tenth inning. Yes, the fucking tenth inning, neither UConn nor the Syracuse team could score after hitting eights. You'd ending up catching the whole game and your knees seemed barely able to support yourself by the ending of it. Which wasn't till 10:30 something at night. Then coach dragged you all into the locker room and basically screamed at you all for not being able to get outs and hit the ball and making a game way to close than it ever needed to be. In all honesty you were too tired to care, hell, you'd been trying not to fall asleep on the shoulder of your pitcher. Paige ended up convincing you to leave your car at the school, she had class tomorrow and didn't mind picking it up. Quite honestly you were so tired it wasn't a good idea for you to drive so you accepted her offer and began the twenty-minute drive back to the apartment. 

"Hey ma, sorry I woke you," your blonde girlfriend murmurs as she climbs back into the drivers seat, quick to restart the car and crank up the heat. "Go back to sleep for a bit baby, we've still got five minutes."

You contemplate for a second before shaking your and sitting up, your jaws eclipsing with a yawn. "Mmm, I think I'm up for a minute, the lights got me going." You state as she pulls away from the gas station, lightly shifting her hand to massage your upper leg, just as she always does. The pair of you drive in comfortable silence, your apartment coming into view. 

"Come on, let's go inside the only things I want are a hot shower and cuddles from my girlfriend," you exclaim easily, unlocking your door.

Paige chuckles and eagerly follows, "you make that seem like it's a hard ship. And like I don't want to shower with my sexy girl," She teases, as you walk into the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind you two. You pause only to grab a small dove chocolate out of the dish and hurry to your ensuite bathroom. Unwrapping your chocolate, you roll your eyes, noticing Paige's pouty face and break it in half, popping a piece into her mouth. "Mm chocolate," she hums appreciatively, and you nod in agreement, stripping your jersey off, then sports bra.

You roll your eyes as her ice blues immediately glue themselves to your chest.

 "Godamn...I am one lucky woman." She reaches out to touch and you nudge her off lightly. 

"No way in hell bucko, I can barely walk as it is."

Paige snickers, "bet I can make that issue worse," she teases, wrapping her hands around your hips from behind and kissing your neck lovingly.

You pat her on the chest lightly before turning away and twisting the shower dial to the hot side. "Shower Paigey," you state insistently, the affects of the game starting to rehit you, as your knees tremble slightly from stepping over the edge of the tub. 

Paige is quick to join you, and even quicker to take control. "Here baby, I know your tired so let me do the work," she insists, grabbing your shampoo bottle and beginning to work a thick lather into your hair, massaging your scalp lightly as she goes. You groan slightly at the sensation, melting into the massage. You also realize your at the perfect height to nuzzle your face into her boobs as she washes your hair, not even having to strain to be comfortable. You end up laying on her half asleep. 

While the massage feels good for a little bit, your tiredness eventually starts to wear on you. "Are you almost done? I feel like I'm about to collapse." You whine slightly, although you really weren't kidding, your knees and back and hips were all about ready to give. 

"I know ma, m'almost there I promise," she states, squirting body wash on the body lougha and taking care to rub the remaining dirt off of your body, which admittedly feels very nice, especially after diving in the dirt and sweatning for the past ten plus hours. Against, your will you feel your eyes closed. You were far to relaxed to be able to stay awake- at least stay awake and be in a good mood. Sadly, your sleepy bliss is broken a few minutes later by the water spraying all over you to rinse out the suds and conditioner. 

"No Paigey!" You about wail into her, stuffing your face into her chest. You just wanted to be done. Today had been long and you were overtired and overstimulated as shit. 

"I know sweet girl, I know," soothes the blonde, not phased. This hadn't been the first time she'd seen you overtired like this and expected it to happen at some point. "All done now," she states, turning off the water and grabbing your towel off the toilet, wrapping it around you, then grabbing her own to pin around her waist. She wastes no time scooping you up and gently carrying you to bed, where she gently plops you, before digging through the drawers for warmer pajamas. You only whine slightly when she makes you turn over from your stomach down position and raise your arms up to pull a loose t-shirt over your head. 

You start to doze off, but as you do feel slightly bad. "M'sorry I'm so crabby when I'm sleepy, Paigey. I promise I don't mean it."

"Don't worry about its sweet girl," she reassures you as she climbs into bed next to you, opening up her arms. You happily oblige the offer, cuddling close to the point your sprawled across her chest. "Everyone needs to be taken care eventually." She murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as your eyes close, mind already half asleep. "I love you so much." All Paige gets is a soft snore in response, but that doesn't matter. She knows you love her and she loves you right back.

-sea otter anon (once again on the laptop lol) i can't even tell if these are good if I'm being honest with u. Night night online mom!

BABE THESE ARE BEAUUUUUUTIFUL

god bless you god bless yo mama god bless america

i hope everything is ok though!! i hope you enjoy writing these because i definitely enjoy reading themmm i love you

#🦦 anon #i love my anons #ask #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers hc #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers x softball player #uconn wbb

[avatar-anna]

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

yes!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You need me again, Mama?"

"Where's the zipper on this thing?"

"Quickly, while no one's looking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't know if that's—Harry!"

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

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

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

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

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

[apomaro-mellow]

Family Planning 2

Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did my two darlings miss me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready for the big climax tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

“There it is! The Royal Evil Eye!”

“Shut the hell up”, Steve scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m warning you”, Eddie said.

“Are you threatening a teacher!?”

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

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

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

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

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“And push!”

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

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

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

Right into Mr. Woolsley’s face.

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

“I’m calling your parents.”

Part 3 coming soon

Tag Team

@marklee-blackmore @aol19

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

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptnation, which is turning out to be like NaNo but with way less stress]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) 10: choice

Their lives have never been predictable. Which, in some ways, has made them very predictable, John thinks as he stops Sherlock in the hallway with a hand on the sleeve of his dressing gown. 'Hey,' he says, voice quiet. 'Come here.'

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, but doesn't hesitate to lean down and let John kiss him, thoroughly. Maybe even twice.

'Great, thanks,' John says roughly afterwards, backing away. 'I've got work now.'

He really should have known, from the start, that they'd have to steal moments for this out of the chaos they live in.

'Not your babysitter,' Mrs Hudson sings the next day as she holds Rosie's hands down the stairs. 'But I've got applesauce jelly with her name on it. And I'll change her nappy while I'm at it, won't I?' The last is said to Rosie, obviously, who is very focused on the stairs.

John, in turn, is focused somewhere else as well. 'We've got ten minutes,' he says, already out of his chair. 

'Eight and a half,' Sherlock corrects, pulling John to him and capturing his mouth easily. John is tempted, so tempted, to let it go too far, but his prefrontal cortex is fully developed now, unlike the last time he felt this sort of heady gut-lust.

Maybe it's because Sherlock is a man, but he hasn't experienced a sense of newness this acute since being in school. And he'd thought, because he knows Sherlock in every other way it is possible to know a person, that this added dimension would feel--normal. Comfortingly similar. Would slot into their lives unnoticeably.

Decidedly not, John accepts some days and a solved case later, just before his backside hits the kitchen table. They've got a few more stolen moments while Rosie's napping on the sofa, and he's determined to make the most of them.

At Sherlock's urging, he lifts himself up onto the table's cluttered surface, then grabs at Sherlock's face to bring him back into the kiss. He spreads his knees without a thought and feels enveloped by heat as Sherlock moves further in between them. He fits around Sherlock perfectly, and it feels like--

It feels like lacing his fingers together with the other thumb in front, or crossing his arms with the other hand dominant. It feels like his own body still, yes, his skin heating up and his lungs pressing for air, but from a literal whole new perspective.

And he wants more of it. 'Do you think,' he murmurs in between kisses, 'that you'd want to be the one--' He pauses as Sherlock bites at his jaw. 'The one in charge?'

Sherlock pulls back enough to give him a look. 'Are you struggling through your English modesty to ask me if I'd like to top?'

John's neck flushes further, and he's pretty sure now it's both from arousal and embarrassment. Which is also new; he's said plenty more graphic things to women without hesitation, but apparently all bets are off when it comes to Sherlock. 'Yeah,' he says firmly. 'Yes.'

'I'd assumed you'd want to be the one doing that.'

'Wait, though-- you've done this before…?'

Sherlock's mouth quirks up. 'Subtle as always, John. Yes, I have. But not with you, do you understand? I want whatever you want. Quite literally.'

John swallows. 'And vice versa. I'm not new-- I mean, to the whole idea--'

'I'm very aware,' Sherlock retorts. And of course he is, aware of both John's various partners over the years and also of his, well, solo habits.

'Alright,' John says dryly. 'Rein it in, detective.' He sobers, hoping he doesn't have to go into detail. 'But this feels… different. And I want you to--to show me everything, to do everything you want.'

Sherlock, as he should have expected, takes this as a sort of delightful challenge. 'Well, then, we are at a bit of a stalemate, aren't we?'

John smirks, relief seeping through. 'Flip a coin?' he says, tightening his thighs, ready to dip back into Sherlock's mouth.

But Rosie, naturally, chooses that moment to wake up, and to do so loudly. She's almost got Sherlock's name down, and she definitely can yell for John like she's getting paid for it.

John groans and leans his forehead against Sherlock's momentarily, or at least intending for it to be momentary but shortly hearing the sound of his daughter shuffling into the kitchen, dragging her favourite garishly plaid blanket behind her. 

'Perhaps we'll cut a deck of cards?' Sherlock suggests to him as they untangle.

Then the detective reaches down for Rosie, who is looking back and forth between them. 'Cards?' she repeats once she's in his arms, her tiny person pronunciation still simultaneously hilarious and brilliant. 

'Yes,' Sherlock answers matter-of-factly. 'Your father and I are trying to decide…' He looks at John, a glint in his eye John shouldn't like at all. '...who gets to have the first ginger nut.'

John chokes on his tea, the sting going into his nostrils. 'Unfair,' he says.

His daughter seems interested, which is not surprising considering she shares Sherlock's predilection for the biscuit. 'Ginger nut!' she says. 'Me too?'

'Of course,' Sherlock says amenably. 'It's time for tea, anyhow.'

John tamps down a smile, then goes in for the assist, relieving Sherlock of Rosie so the detective can rummage around in the fridge. In their current arrangement, Sherlock is in charge of keeping edible and non-edible items separated. It's a dealbreaker, John had said when they'd moved back in. And Sherlock had complied without too much fuss, much to John's continued surprise.

Though, to be honest, he half expects Rosie would be delighted to find fingers in the crisper.

When everything's on the table and Rosie's in her booster seat, John digs in his pocket and pulls out a 50p coin, flipping it over to Sherlock without warning.

Sherlock catches it, regards it, then raises an eyebrow. 'I can rig this, you know.' 

'Yes, but you won't, because my daughter is impressionable and worships you. And while you have many fine attributes, casual cheating is not one I'm interested in her inheriting.' 

'Or, erm,' Sherlock starts, fingers casually playing with the coin. 'Any.' It's not a question, but suddenly he's looking intently at John, forehead wrinkled.

John's heart squeezes as he clocks what Sherlock's actually trying to get at. 'Sherlock. Bloody hell. Of course.' He inhales harshly. 'I know I'm not-- not exactly trustworthy any more, in that arena.'

But Sherlock cuts off his self-flagellation. 'Poppycock.'

'Beg pardon?'

Sherlock shakes his head. 'You were seduced by a person who could talk someone into murder with the snap of her fingers. She is literally the most brilliant manipulator in the world, and though I hold you in high regard you in no way had the capacity to overcome that.'

The anxiety slowly eases, though he suspects he'll never fully be free of it. 'You're admitting you're not the cleverest?'

He thinks Sherlock will counter in good humour, but instead he's a bit thoughtful. 'I think that, at that level, one is somewhere in the stratosphere, separated from everyone below. I find I rather like it down here.' He smiles crookedly, genuinely, at John. 'In certain company, at least.' 

John's heart twinges. 'Well. That's.' He clears his throat. 'That's good. We rather like you down here. Most of the time.'

He breaks eye contact, instead looking at Rosie, who is happily getting banana all over her hands. He hopes the words will be sufficient. 'But I mean it.'

Sherlock's voice is quiet, fond and no-nonsense at the same time. 'I know. I know you, John Watson.'

John feels a smile slowly cross his face. 'Yeah, that's right, you'd catch me out instantly anyway. How I ended up with the one person I literally will not ever be able to keep a secret from, I've no idea. Birthdays and anniversaries are going to be very, very boring.'

Sherlock's smirk gives no doubt as to where his mind has immediately gone. 'Oh, I doubt that.'

John can tell his skin is starting to flush again. 'Speaking of… Coin flip is right out, so…?'

'Paper scissors stone?' 

'No!'

'Why not?'

'Because you'd definitely cheat at that.'

'True. Magic 8 Ball?'

'You know what a Magic 8 Ball is?'

'Had a case where it was the murder weapon.'

'What? Really?'

'Yes.' Sherlock leans in, clearly ready to share the tale while assisting Rosie with her cheerios. 

And John wants to remember this, this exact feeling of this exact moment, forever.

[❤️]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #May Prompts 2024 #MayPrompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #i guess i should tag for #frank discussions of sex #and mild-to-moderate snogging #oh and mentions of Eurus and cheating

[oceaneyesinla]

This was written in the span of about 2 hours, after I saw this video and HAD to make it about Satoru and his little girl. The idea was too cute for me to ignore! The adventures of Gojo Catoru and his darling daughter might continue, because I loved writing this so much

Constructive criticism welcome, but please be nice

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Enjoy!

You just barely bit back a coo at the sight greeting you in your little one's room. She was fast asleep in the fancy crib Satoru insisted she needed, white hair splayed out around her head like a halo. Right next to her, a giant cat, with fur the same colour as her hair. His back was pressed against the length of hers, and you could feel your smile tugging almost painfully at your cheeks. The two biggest loves of your life, safe and sound in your shared home.

See, the cat just so happened to be your dear husband. Satoru had suffered an … incident on a recent mission and that meant that for the moment, you had a giant fluffball where your husband was supposed to be. He made for a beautiful cat - soft, white fur and those same blue eyes you had been staring into since your school days. However, the energy of Gojo Satoru and the energy of the average cat were things that never should have been combined. He was getting far too much joy out of bothering the students, and you couldn’t count the number of times they had brought his fluffy butt back to you over the last few days, thrusting him into your arms and scowling at the pleased expression they just knew he would be wearing.

You were privy to something they weren’t, though. Satoru was struggling. As much as he loved being a menace to the kids, he also loved watching out for them. You had been taking them out for their missions and every time you left the school, you could feel his eyes on you. It wasn’t something the great Gojo Satoru was used to; watching the people he cherished most walk into danger while he could do nothing but wait and pray for their safe return.

The worst part of all this, and the thing you knew was bothering him most was your daughter. She was his mini me, and she was getting to the age where she began to notice if one of you were absent. The first day you came home down one husband and up one cat, your little one had waddled around the entire house, Satoru shadowing her every step of the way. She ended up back at your feet, staring up at you with teary blue eyes, “Daddy?”

Even in cat form, you swore you could see Satoru’s heart breaking. All you could do was crouch down and cradle her against your chest, quickly spinning a tale that Daddy was away for work. It wasn’t like you could explain to a toddler that Daddy was actually now a cat for an undetermined amount of time, until Auntie Shoko figured out how to fix him or the effect wore off. She was smart like her daddy, but she was still just a little girl.

“Daddy call?” The building tears began to fall when you shook your head and she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Even when Satoru was working, he was just a phone call away. One particularly memorable video call had you scolding him as he dodged blasts of cursed energy, pulling faces to make your then infant daughter smile.

You looked between your sniffling daughter and Satoru, who managed to look despondent even in cat form, and a little idea formed, “Look at me, baby.” It was adorable, the way both sets of blue turned your way, looking at you as if you had the answers to the most complex questions of the universe, “Daddy had to go away for a little while, but that’s why he left Catoru for you!” You gestured to Satoru, “He’ll keep you company while Daddy isn’t here, okay?”

“Ca-to-ru?” She sounded out the syllables of the name you had pulled out of thin air, and you smiled as her expression brightened, little fingers reaching out to pet white fluff. Satoru seemed happier too and once your daughter had toddled off to get her favourite plushie to introduce to her new friend, he climbed into the spot she had just vacated, pressing as close as he could get and butting his head into your chin.

That little white lie was what led to the current situation. Since that day, your daughter and her new cat/father had been attached at the hip. Wherever one went, the other wasn’t far behind. Of course, there were still occasional tears, when all your daughter wanted was a hug from Daddy and she couldn’t understand that he was right there, shoving himself into her hold and letting her tears wet his fur.

You let yourself enjoy the moment, glad that your daughter was resting peacefully. It had been a bad day; with her missing her daddy and you missing your husband. Really, you should wake her if you wanted her to sleep later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you decided to just move her into the pack and play in the sitting room. It would satisfy your selfish urge to keep her close, and it would mean you could keep an eye on her in case she woke up still upset.

With practised ease, you lifted her up into your arms, cradling her to your body and moving through the house, gently laying her out in the pack and play before making sure her favourite plushie (a gift from her daddy) was tucked into her arms. Pressing a kiss to her head, you pulled away and turned to carry on with your day. You were expecting empty space but instead you were met with one fluffy cat, staring at you with a level of betrayal you didn’t think was possible for a cat to express. You just knew that if he was human, he would be pouting.

“What is it?” You spoke softly, not wanting to wake your daughter. Satoru ignored you, pointedly looking away from you before hopping up and over the side of the pack and play, making himself comfortable.

Oh. He was upset you took away his cuddle buddy. With a barely hidden smile, you reached out to rub his head in apology but your hand was batted away. He wiggled closer to your daughter, staring up at you accusingly.

“I’m not moving her again, don’t worry.” You rolled your eyes - at least his flair for dramatics was still intact. As you watched, your daughter rolled over, releasing her plushie in favour of grabbing hold of Satoru, snuggling into his warm fur. As quietly as you could, you pulled your phone out and took a few pictures. Yeah, this was difficult and you missed Satoru and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in your husband’s arms, but this would make for a hell of a story for your daughter when she was older. Besides, this had inspired you. Maybe once Satoru was back to normal, it would be time to get a family pet.

#satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #gojo catoru

[mrwinterr]

The Nerve

Pairing(s): former!Steve Harrington x Female Reader; eventual!Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: The nerves of some people. 

Warnings: Cliché af. Toxic behavior. When they go low, I go lower. Revenge. Not a girls’ girl here bc once you fuck around w/ another girl’s man it’s “yes, and?” from there. Implied smut. Language. We’re probably not gonna like Steve (or even the reader for a bit) here. 

Disclaimer: Typical !former and !eventual pairing. Some time hopping. None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 

Pre A/N: This is embarrassing. I was in my villain era. I was certainly in the business of misery. I was angry (still am sometimes), so I wrote this. We all cope differently.

The nerve. 

She had the nerve to steal your boyfriend. 

It had been a few weeks since Steve broke up with you, only to start dating a girl you had harbored no ill will toward until that night. He even had the guts to reveal who she was and how long he had been losing interest in you. You weren’t going to lie, it hurt – a lot. Discovering his real need for “space” during the last two months of your relationship was painful to realize because in that time, while you were being understanding, he was finding a way to end things with you.

Looking back, you couldn’t help but dissect the memory. It was an ordinary day. School was let out for the weekend, and you were spending it with Steve, a cozy night in without interruptions since he was often left alone at home. The two of you lay on the couch, cuddled up, bodies parallel, his arms around you, the room dimly lit by the TV screen. 

“I have something I wanna talk to you about…and it’s been on my mind for a while,” Steve says, loosening his grip and pausing the movie that was mindlessly playing midway. 

“Okay,” you reply, pushing yourself up from the couch to make space for him to sit up. He shifted, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the carpeted floor, settling into a seated position and scooting aside to allow you room to sit back down next to him.  

The atmosphere shifted noticeably, and it made you nervous. The way he ran his hands through his hair and avoided meeting your gaze – it all felt ominous, and you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

“I met someone,” he revealed. 

It wasn’t the news you expected, and you could feel your heart sink into your stomach as you absorbed his words.

“Oh,” is all you manage to say, now turning your gaze to the ground too, unable to look at him. 

A whirlwind of emotions swept through you – hurt, anger, brokenness, betrayal. The signs had been there. Why hadn’t you seen them? He had been growing distant – more withdrawn, fewer “good mornings” and “good nights”, less calls, more canceled dates. You had been looking forward to tonight, thinking he was just preoccupied with work or his upcoming graduation, believing whatever he needed space for was resolved. Turns out, he needed space from you. 

You had so many questions, even though you weren’t sure why you needed the answers. In that moment, you wanted to know what you had done to make him lose interest in you. You had thought the relationship was salvageable. 

What? He was breaking up with you. 

When? He’d been feeling like this for almost two months. 

Where? At work.  

Who? The other girl he worked with, also attends Hawkins High, but she's a year above you, therefore had more classes and events with him. 

How? It just happened. 

Yeah, that last one was a classic, but not as much as him telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you both could stay friends. Bullshit. With Steve, would come her, and you couldn’t believe the nerve of her to pursue another girl’s boyfriend. You’d seen her while visiting Steve at his job, but you hadn’t felt threatened by her. The hurting phase was brutal, but now all you could feel for her was anger – after all, who didn’t know that you were dating Steve Harrington? 

She had the nerve to act all innocent.

The school hallways were not pleasant for you. A few days after the break up, rumors circulated that Steve left you for someone else, though apparently their relationship hadn’t been made public yet, sparking widespread gossip. 

How would you have known that though? His business wasn’t yours anymore. In fact, you’d made a deliberate effort to distance yourself from them because the breakup was still fresh. Fuck trying to be friends. This time you were the one that needed the space. The last thing you wanted was to think about them together. 

Steve had the audacity to point the finger at you because you were supposedly the only one aware of the relationship. Even when you tried to explain, he left you hanging. The disbelief on his face hurt to witness. He didn’t believe you. 

“How do they know about us?” Steve demanded as he approached you at your locker, hands on his hips in typical, upset Steve fashion. No hey, hi or hello. He just went right in. 

“I don’t know,” you scoffed, continuing to unload your textbooks from your backpack.

“Well, you’re the only one who knows,” he persisted, leaning in closer, determined to get an answer. “And your name is going around.” 

“Look, Steve,” you finally turned to face him, your tone sharp, catching him off guard. “Your new relationship isn’t my concern.” This is a side of you Steve isn’t used to. “Why would I go around telling everyone that you left me for her? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you a reason to think I’d do something like this?” 

You could see him reconsidering his accusation. The questions seemed to stump him, as if he knew the rumors were absurd and gossip wasn’t something you partook in. 

“Why don’t you go talk to your girlfriend and figure it out?” you suggested, turning back to your locker, not in the mood to continue the conversation. 

All Steve did was stare at you before shaking his head then going into a tangent of how some of the rumors were negatively affecting her when they weren’t true and how she shouldn’t have to endure them or receive any of its backlash…as if you did. But when he started saying something along the lines of how she wouldn’t do that because she told him she didn’t, you knew this was all a wasted effort on your end because he had already made up his mind. He believed her. 

Did he truly think you cared that much about them? Did he really think you'd stoop so low as to announce his new relationship? Did he ever really know you? 

She had the nerve to lie. 

Steve apologized to you when he discovered it was actually his new girlfriend that spread the news. He recognized his rash behavior and conceded that he should’ve believed you. Why would you waste energy on them? They weren’t worth your time anymore. 

“Hey,” a voice calls from behind, and you turn to see Steve standing there, looking contrite. Unlike before, you receive a greeting.

“Hey,” you reply, briefly acknowledging him before returning to organizing your locker, now cluttered by your chaotic friend’s belongings - stashing the shit that no one would suspect the good girl to possess. It didn’t bother you much, except for the occasional stench it left behind. 

“You were right,” Steve admits, hands in his front pockets and moving to the side to look at you. Pausing your task, you wait for him to continue. “She was the one going around telling everyone that I left you…for her.” Boy, that was awkward and lowkey stung. It hadn’t even been that long and he didn’t fail to remind you how you all got here. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he continues, visibly ashamed, “I should’ve known better than to believe that.” His apology didn’t really move you. The damage had already been done. You were branded as the ‘psycho ex’ and all Steve had to do was trust you from the start. 

She had the nerve to act like a girls’ girl. 

She never directly apologized, but she had the nerve to claim that she harbored “no hard feelings” toward you. Hard feelings? Why? Because you’re the ex? Was she fucking stupid? How did she expect the girl whose boyfriend she stole to feel? Everything that came out of her mouth infuriated you.  

It was no ordinary day – it was your birthday, and your friend had organized a night out to celebrate. You never liked to make a spectacle of your birthday, but it was also a good reason to go out, distract yourself, and avoid dwelling on unwanted thoughts. 

“You’re lying,” your friend responds, baffled by what you just told him, “she really said that?” 

“She fucking did!” you exclaim, still grappling with her impeccable timing. She wouldn’t know it was your birthday or would she care. 

“Jesus. Of all the days…” he says with a low whistle before attempting to lift your spirits, “But, hey, we’re not gonna let her ruin your birthday!”

“I know, and I won’t!” Your voice wavers as you try to convince yourself this wouldn’t affect you. You were determined to not cry today, but the truth was, it still hurts. Her little stunt reopened a wound that was almost healed.  

“He’s such a fool,” he remarks, followed by a brief silence. You were preoccupied with regaining your composure, fighting back tears, unable to respond. “He didn’t know what he already had in front of him. Lucky son of a bitch,” he added, and you’re not sure if he was speaking to himself or he meant to say that outloud, but you heard him nonetheless. 

“Stop,” you reply, turning your away from him. You’re not gonna cry. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eddie.”  

“What am I trying to do?” He asks adjusting to move to your line of vision, but you keep your focus averted.

“Hype me up, make me feel better…I don't know,” you answer, finally meeting his gaze, the tears now freely falling. 

He understood how hard you were on yourself, replaying what could’ve been avoided. Your relationship with Steve wasn’t something you anticipated. Steve pursued you, and initially, you were fine with a casual fling, but he insisted on something more serious. You had doubts about whether he was the right person, but what if he was? It’s a reminder that life isn’t planned; it’s lived.

Eddie’s support during your breakup was invaluable. He watched you cry a lot – at home, at his trailer, at school, at work. He watched you criticize yourself for the breakup. He watched the light go out and he was determined to reignite it. He simply wanted his friend back. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he assures, hand over his heart, “everything I’ve said is sincere,” accompanied by that charming, stupid trademark Eddie grin. He was so endearing. 

“Well,” you begin, but he’s got you. He had a knack for flipping the script, leaving you wondering why you were arguing in the first place. 

Despite your curiosity about what attracted Steve to someone else and away from you, you had to accept that you probably wouldn’t ever know. 

If there was one thing you knew about Steve, it was that when he falls, he falls fast. With that realization, it sparked a wicked plan in your mind. If you could bag him once, you could probably do it again. 

The nerve. 

You had the nerve to lie. 

The only person you had confided in about your breakup with Steve was Eddie, and you had the right to do so. You needed a friend. You also knew he had no interest in high school gossip, so it couldn’t have been him that told the whole school. You trusted him. 

People liked to talk and they didn’t hold back. Although the lies bothered you, you had a strong support system in Eddie and his friends. If any group could shrug off that nonsense, it was the Hellfire Club.

“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?” Steve asked, continuing to badger you, even suggesting Eddie as the culprit. You knew Steve well enough that he couldn’t take gossip about him for this long. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and not all of the rumors were in his favor. 

“Eddie?” You asked, confused but also guilty because you had done just that. 

“Yeah, I know how much time you’ve been spending with him lately.” 

“Why is that any of your business?” You countered, a bit snappy.  

“Because,” Steve began, grasping for an excuse, “people talk.”

“And you really think Eddie would? He doesn’t care about shit like this or you-”

“Please,” he interrupts with an eye roll, in the annoying way Steve always did. 

“You don’t know him,” you defended your friend, “so get off your high horse and go talk to your girlfriend about your problem,” leaving him questioning everything again.  

You had the nerve to act all innocent. 

The birthday incident, as you tried your best to keep thoughts of Steve at bay, she unexpectedly approached you, alone, feigning sweetness and innocence. You listened as she spun her lies – lies about overhearing people gossip about her, Steve, and you; lies about rumors allegedly started by you; lies about having “no hard feelings” toward you. It was all fabrication.  

Politely, you attempted to have her understand your side of the story, clarifying that you had not spread any rumors and had discussed the situation with Steve, as civil as that could’ve been, and ultimately, how she should address the matter directly with him. What were you now? A couples counselor? You didn’t have time for this or them.

You weren’t going to start lying to yourself now, but it angered you. All you saw was red. So, you gave it right back, feigning innocence yourself, doubling down on it, subtly planting a seed of doubt in her mind. 

“Watch out for him,” you said sincerely, your warning devoid of malice. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked genuinely curious. God she was fucking stupid. Did she think she would walk out of this situation without a scratch? She had just proven she was not a girl’s girl for actively pursuing your boyfriend while he was with you. The world is a jungle, and it was every woman for herself now. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, maintaining composure, “...just a girl looking out for another girl,” you added, offering her an innocent, warm smile. 

“Okay,” she replied, sounding confused and a bit shaky. You could sense her discomfort, and she deserved to feel uneasy. 

Ultimately, you weren’t lying. Yes, she should watch out for Steve – what made her think he wouldn’t treat her the same way he did to you? However, if you were in her shoes, you’d watch out for yourself. 

You had the nerve to not act like a girl’s girl too. 

The sudden breakup with Steve left some unresolved feelings, but he was now with her, not you, yet that didn’t stop the urge to act on them. Steve was weak and you realized that soon enough. 

With your head turned to the side, you observed him, listening to his ragged breathing, how his lips parted, emitting small puffs of air, his chest rising and falling, the sweat that dripped from the top of his forehead, and eyes closed in post-bliss. Your gaze traces the freckles that speckled his skin as you studied his profile, wrestling with the questions swirling your mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Why fight for him?

He didn’t respond immediately, but didn’t linger too long before replying, “Not really.” 

“We’re gonna have to,” you said and it sounded almost pathetic. Why were you trying to hold onto him? 

“I…I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” and when he said that, you knew that actually meant this was done. He was done with you. Why did you want to change his mind?

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew it had to end eventually. There was no intention or hope of remaining friends. 

That night, you went home feeling hurt, broken, angry, and disgusted. You knew what you did was wrong, a sad attempt on your part. He probably wanted that reaction from you. You were more than willing to feed his male ego. What guy didn’t enjoy the idea of two girls vying for him? If it was easy for her and it was easy for you, it would be easy for another. What made him so special?

You had the nerve to try to steal her boyfriend.

It was a toxic situation. You found yourself doing exactly what she had done to you. What did that accomplish? Bragging rights and a fleeting sense of revenge, perhaps, but it didn’t bring you and Steve back together. It only highlighted how destructive you both could be. You sought revenge at the expense of homewrecking a relationship. You were no better, yet in a twisted way, you didn’t care. You wanted them to feel the same pain you did, even though deep down, you knew Steve was capable of sabotaging his own relationships. 

You told Eddie of the misdeed, feeling ashamed. He wasn’t upset with you. He understood that you would follow your own path no matter what. He didn’t have the right to control you. Both of you recognized that this would only lead to your own suffering. Unfortunately, you had to learn this lesson the hard way. 

“I know you’re upset and that’s okay,” he tries to console you, “...your feelings are valid.  But I don’t think you need to find the answers to everything. They’ll just lead to more and it’ll never end.”

He was right. The more you held onto what happened between you and Steve, the more questions arose. He was living rent free in your head. 

“I just-” you struggled, trying hard to make sense of the situation, “I just wanna know. What did I do wrong? How did he get bored of me? When was I not enough?” 

“Have you ever heard of the 80/20 rule?” he asked, and you shook your head. “It’s basically a theory that when someone cheats, they are drawn to the 20% in another person that is missing in their current partner.”

You’re not sure how much that helped you because it begged the question…”And I know what you’re thinking, so stop that!” Eddie’s quick to read you, “you’re lacking nothing, alright?” 

“Everyone knows I’m not a big fan of Steve Harrington,” he said, scrunching up his face at the mention of his name, “...but he’ll regret this. His type always comes back…fucking roaches.” That last remark elicited a small cackle out of you. 

He then took your hand in his. It’s a stark contrast to your own hand – larger, a bit rough, warm and slightly clammy – but it provided a sense of comfort. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at your hands clasped together until he gives it a light squeeze and says, “He’ll realize he was much better off with the 80% he already had.” 

Damn Eddie Munson. He was too good to you. It gave you a new perspective. Why were you being so hard on yourself? Why were you trying to convince yourself that the relationship’s downfall was your fault? It was Steve who started pulling away from you. It was Steve who did pull away from you. It was Steve who was actively pulling away from you. Everything that happened wasn’t solely on you. 

These kinds of things happen to everyone every day. Feeling hurt, broken, angry, betrayed and ashamed were normal and acceptable emotions. You just have to learn to swallow your pride and accept this as part of life. You live and learn – not necessarily forgive or forget, but move on in your own way. 

You were once happy without Steve, and you could be happy again. You gave up or changed a lot for Steve, losing sight of what made you happy. Now, you were committed to reclaiming your happiness. Fuck, when did you start crying? 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced in concern, bringing his other hand up to wipe the stray tears running down your face. 

“How do you do it?” you asked, looking down to compose yourself. 

“Do what?” he responded, amused. You didn’t answer verbally, but twist your hand in his to thread your fingers between his. The small smile on your face conveyed your question, softening his features. It’s a rare emotion from Eddie, mixed with vulnerability accompanied with a newfound awareness. 

He brings your now interlocked hands to his lips but not before saying, “...because I’m a big fan of you,” and kisses the back of your hand gently.

The nerve.

Steve had the nerve to lie. 

Several months have passed with minimal communication from Steve. Occasionally seeing them together around school and town didn’t bother you anymore – well, not entirely. You can’t deny it still stirred up certain feelings, but you didn’t give it a second thought and eventually they weren’t a blimp on your radar. The past no longer consumed you, but unexpectedly, it started consuming Steve. 

Evidently, he still knew your schedule and had been desperately trying to find a chance to talk to you – just the two of you, without Eddie, other friends, teachers, classmates, or family around. When he approached you, you were confused; unsure if he was still with her or anyone else. You intentionally tuned out gossip and never paid attention to their situation. Besides, you had a better reason to not care about Steve anymore. So, when he starts pouring out his feelings, you take it with a grain of salt, this time with a clearer mind. 

“Hey,” Steve calls out as you step out of your front door, ready to head out with your ride nearby. 

“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply with uncertainty. 

“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Now might not be the best time,” you respond with unease. 

“Please, just give me five minutes,” he begs, his eyes full of hope and pleading. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Despite your instincts telling you to stand firm, you reluctantly agree to hear him out, which you soon regret. 

Steve begins with an apology and offers to explain his actions. What more was there for him to explain? You no longer desired an explanation. It was simple – he grew tired of you, became interested in another girl, and left you; perhaps grew tired of her too and now he’s back. You had moved on from your failed relationship with Steve months ago. However, he felt he “owed” you an explanation. Was this all a joke to him?

The more he spoke, the more you got lost in your thoughts trying to comprehend the reality that he was standing before you, admitting to his mistakes, and seeking a second chance. His voice started to fade into the background as you felt the weight of deciding how to respond, all while knowing your ride would arrive at any moment. When the pressure got too much, you finally managed to step up. 

“Steve,” you interrupt, “I don’t know what you want me to say to you.” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just–” he’s cut off by the sound of loud, muffled music, causing both of you to turn your attention to the bulky van that just pulled up in front of your house. 

You glanced at Steve sending him a tight lip smile before taking the short few steps to the curb, not looking back, knowing you were never going to get that "owed" explanation.

Steve had the nerve to try to act all innocent.

The atmosphere in Eddie’s van is tense the moment you climb into the passenger seat. Neither of you expected to see Steve today, let alone right before a date. And it happened. The lingering feelings had unearthed between you and Eddie and you welcomed it, a testament to your decision to move on from Steve. Right when things are looking up, life throws you a curveball in the form of your ex. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously, stealing a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. 

“Yeah,” you reply unconvincingly, then quickly retract, “no,” followed by a sigh, “I mean, I was…I am. I’m just annoyed at Steve right now. I swear I had no idea he was stopping by.” 

“You’re fine,” Eddie assured, dismissively waving his hand to convey that it wasn’t a big deal to him, though his mind was racing with a million questions. When he saw Steve with you, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Steve there? What were you two talking about? What did Steve want? Had you been in contact with him and not mentioned it? Not that Eddie could control who you talked to, girlfriend or not. 

“I can’t believe he had the nerve to say he ‘respects’ my feelings!” Your emotions spill out as you unload on Eddie, “After everything he did to me, does that look like someone who ‘respects’ my feelings?” 

“It is a pretty shitty thing for him to do,” Eddie agrees, not just coming from the boyfriend perspective, but from any perspective. 

Steve thought that by acknowledging your feelings upfront, it would ease his case. However, upon reflection, you realized it was more about saving face for the hurtful way he left you, attempting to depict himself in a more favorable light.

“Right?!” The audacity Steve had to arrive at your door, unannounced, just before your date with Eddie. God, Eddie. It was a brief but uncomfortable moment. Steve knew you were friends with Eddie, he never bothered to understand the depth of your relationship because he didn’t care enough to meet your other friends. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say, feeling remorseful.  

“For what?” he chuckles softly because can’t believe what you're apologizing for.

“I didn’t expect to see Steve today,” you explain. 

“That’s not on you,” he assures, “remember, I told you they always come back.” 

“True,” you agree, “but that’s not what I want.” 

“What do you want, then?” he asks.

“You,” you admit, “just you, Eddie,” reaching for his free hand to hold for assurance. 

Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to fool you.  

Steve had the nerve to try to steal you from your boyfriend. 

During the initial months, Steve made attempts to regain your favor. You questioned repeatedly whether you could genuinely consider being just friends with him. That had been his original intention after breaking your heart, but he failed to uphold his end of the deal. Was it worth attempting to rebuild a friendship with him? Would it reflect poorly on your judgment if you did? Could you bear being around Steve in any capacity? If Eddie hadn’t arrived on time for your date that evening, you didn’t know how much more of Steve's admission you could take before you hit another breaking point. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Steve begins, pausing, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully chooses his next words, “I miss you.” He observes your lack of response before continuing, “I miss us. We worked…and I really want to try and get to that again…to what we had.” 

You can see it was difficult for him to admit this. Seeing your unphased reaction, he begins to ramble and talk out of his ass, “I mean, only if you want to. I can understand if you don’t. I do respect your feelings.” 

You knew you didn’t have the mental or even emotional capacity to deal with Steve at that moment, and fortunately, the interaction didn’t progress any further. More importantly, it didn’t ruin your date with Eddie. 

Steve’s graduation, once an event you looked forward to celebrating, was now a canceled event on your calendar. While you wished you could’ve joined in celebrating, Eddie had unfortunately not passed his exams again. Hopefully, on his third attempt, he will be able to graduate and walk the stage with you next year. 

You had started working at a music store, which you enjoyed because it allowed you to be surrounded by something you loved – music. Eddie particularly appreciated the employee discount, a place to hang around during your shifts, though he seemed less excited about the store’s proximity to a certain video store.

It was inevitable that Steve would eventually walk in. Initially, your classmate and presumably Steve’s co-worker, now friend, Robin accompanied him. Over time, Steve started coming in alone, conveniently when Eddie wasn’t hanging around. 

It wasn’t that you were afraid to be alone with him, and Eddie trusted you; he simply didn’t trust Steve. Despite Steve not being the same person from high school, multiple events humbling him, his efforts to revive your past relationship persisted. Although his approach was more subdued than before and masked as friendship, there was still an underlying motive. It was no secret either that you were in a relationship with Eddie. 

Given the small-town geography of Hawkins, you accepted Steve wasn’t going to just disappear. You managed to adapt to his presence. While you couldn’t deny that this attention boosted your ego, you were resolute about not revisiting the past with him. 

“So, I’ve got a copy of Pretty In Pink hot off the press,” Steve announced, showcasing proof of the video tape during another lunch break he spent at your workplace with you on a slow day. “Interested in watching it with me tonight?” he asked, trying to sound smooth and hopeful, adding and emphasizing “as friends,” though not convincingly considering you haven’t agreed to any plans with Steve let alone as that. 

You glanced at him, then at the tape in his hands, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I’m not really into rom-coms,” you replied with a small smile. 

“What? Since when?” he asked, visibly surprised. 

“Since forever…” you answered with a light laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. It internally annoys you because as a former partner, he should’ve known that.

“Oh,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter between you. 

“Yeah,” you drawled, trying to fill the ensuing awkward silence. Fortunately, the door chimed, signaling a new customer – saved by the bell, literally.  

“Babe, you’re gonna love me! I convinced Robin to save me a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and she fucking delivered,” Eddie exclaimed excitedly about tonight’s movie, barely noticing Steve’s presence until he reached the register. “Oh, hey, man.” 

It’s amusing yet endearing to see Eddie straighten up and square his shoulders around Steve, as if they were in competition. You couldn’t blame Eddie for feeling that way, though he really had no reason to worry he’d lose. 

“Hey,” Steve replied, shoving the copy of the romantic comedy aside, embarrassed that he had forgotten your preference for horror movies. 

As you and Eddie enthusiastically discussed the sequel, Steve felt out of place, as if you and Eddie were in your own little world, completely forgetting he was still standing there. He couldn’t contribute to the conversation because he hadn’t seen the first movie and didn’t know anything about it to share in the excitement. Eventually, he quietly slipped away with the tape in hand, on the short trek back to Family Video concluding his lunch break. 

The notion of ‘forgive and ‘forget’ was bullshit. While you could be civil, deep down, you still harbored hurt and anger over what happened. Much of the past year was spent in an emotional decline that affected various aspects of your life – home, social interactions, physical and mental well-being. Now, however, you were focused on reclaiming your happiness. Places and things around town that once reminded you of Steve and your past relationship no longer brought sadness; you were forging new memories with someone else.  

Whether it be in a friend or significant other, Eddie was like your rock. He was there from the start, witnessing your first date with Steve and even expressing his reservations about him. Yet, he knew he had to let you navigate life, love and mistakes on your own. Despite any reckless choices you made, even those that disappointed him, Eddie remained a source of comfort and support because he genuinely cared for you. 

Growing closer to Eddie was a breath of fresh air compared to Steve. You didn’t feel the need to impress Eddie; he was always impressed by you. Reflecting on it, you realized how much you had changed to fit in Steve’s world, which now seemed almost pathetic. With Eddie, you don’t have to change anything – your clothes, your diet, your friends, or your interests. He respected you for who you were. 

It’s ironic that just as you’re back on track and happy, Steve wants to interfere. What’s even sadder is that he promised an explanation but hasn’t delivered, yet he’s actively pursuing you. So what? You tell your ex you still have feelings for them and miss what you both had. What did he expect? That he was Steve Harrington and you’d jump back into his arms? No. He had moved on, supposedly, and so did you, finally. 

Part of you cherished early memories with Steve, and you weren’t going to fail to admit that during the initial attempts, you entertained the thought of what if you got back with him. However, he’s the reason why you struggled to move on and became recluse. Who knows? Maybe he learned from his mistakes or not. What he did to you, he did to her and would likely repeat to others. He only proved that second chances sometimes didn’t matter because rarely do people change. You concluded you couldn’t be more than what you currently were to Steve. 

He was the one who chose to end the relationship. He was the one who decided you weren’t enough for him. He was the one who chose to engage with another woman. He was the one who strung you along. He's the one who decided to cut you off. And now, he’s the one seeking a way back in. It was comical because all the tactics he used the first time he convinced you to go out on a date with him didn’t work this time. It had him trying harder and he was failing miserably. You were now the one living rent-free in his head. 

The events of this whole situation have allowed you to build emotional strength and learn to love yourself and someone else again. You were happy, and happy with Eddie. You weren’t going to let something silly as an 80/20 rule or a past relationship with Steve interfere with that happiness.

Yet, it goes to show the nerves of some people. 

Post A/N: I wish I had this happier ending in real life. Please like, comment and/or reblog. It’ll motivate me to write more and you know also help my self-esteem.

#mrwinterr writing #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female!reader #steve harrington x female!reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess - Volume 2

Part 3

Summary: How the Savior war and the loss of Rick affected your relationship with Daryl.

Warnings: profanity, loss, spoilers, character deaths, smut

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Chapter List

Note: man, one of the teasers I pulled from this chapter sparked some interest 😅

Well, @thesadcatt0, prepare for ANSWERS.

Anyways, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy ❤️

all banners credited on the masterlist!

        The lineup may have well been the worst day of your life. Two of your friends gone, and your lover taken against his will right in front of you. 

        The days without him we’re almost as bad as the day he was taken. You barely ate, never slept. You constantly found yourself crying in your shared bed, sniffing his pillow in place of him. It seemed so cruel to lose two loves in one lifetime.

        You had agreed to go to Hilltop with Rick and some others. You didn’t really know why you were going or what the plan was. You were just desperate to get out of Alexandria for a while. And, you wanted to see Maggie. You hadn’t seen her since the lineup, and she was pretty sick back then.

        You gave Maggie a big hug when you saw her, but before you could really catch up, the gates opened again and a loud engine echoed within the walls. Through the dust you could just barely make out Daryl and Jesus riding in on a motorcycle. 

        Daryl had barely stood up off the bike before you tackled him to the ground.

        “You’re okay.” You cried into the nape of his neck. He stiffened at the sudden human contact after days in isolation, but he relaxed as his arms snaked around you and held you tight against him. 

        “Yeah. I am.” He whispered into your hair, reminding not only you that he was okay but also himself. It had been a long few days at the Sanctuary, but now he knew things about them, and he had to report to Rick. They had to fight back. “C’mon.” He said softly as he tried to sit himself up off the ground. You rolled off him and stood up with him, gripping his hand tightly as he walked over to Rick to hug him. 

        That reunion was probably the highlight of the war with the Saviors. After that, there was nothing but more violence and death. You had begun to believe you were cursed. It seemed like you managed to end up with some kind of injury every time you had to fight. 

        When the final battle with the Saviors was over, you were left with a broken arm and a concussion. While your arm would take quite a while to heal, your head was fine the next day. The people that really needed healing were Maggie and Daryl. They both wanted Negan dead, and neither of them could let it go. But, Rick was unmoving on his decision to keep Negan alive as an example of what the communities all could have been. He was loyal to Carl’s vision, even at the detriment of those who had a score to settle with Negan.

        The inability to cope with Negan’s life being spared caused a bit of a rift between you and Daryl. You’d followed him to the Sanctuary for the short time he was in charge there. He hated being there, and he didn’t even really want you there in the first place. A lot of the Saviors were just people getting by, but a lot of them were also animals. He hated the way some of the men would check you out and lick their crusty lips when you walked past. It made him sick to his stomach to think what they’d do to you if they had a chance.

        The only time either of you felt any semblance of happiness at the Sanctuary was when you were both in bed.

        The frustrations of the work would often leave Daryl tense, and he’d take those pent up frustrations out on you in bed. The sex got a lot rougher in those days. 

        He’d turn you over so you were facing away from him. He felt too ashamed of himself to look at you, or let you see him. He was ashamed of the way he had failed people over time. He failed to get Beth out of that hospital, he failed Glenn when he threw that lunch that got him killed, he failed Maggie when he couldn’t avenge Glenn, he failed Rick every day he woke up to lead the people he hated, and he failed you every time you reached for his hand and he flinched away. 

        He’d grip the back of your neck with his thick hand. His cock would slam into you with so much force it knocked guttural sounds from within you. Your fingers would dig into the sheets when the bruising force of his thrusts got a little out of hand. 

        His mind would always be elsewhere. You’d rarely reach your climax, either of you. You’d both go to bed unsatisfied and you’d be sore the next day. Still, you were close to each other, intimate in privacy, and that was as good as it was going to get for the time being, so you both tried to enjoy it as much as you could. 

        When Daryl stepped down at the Sanctuary and Carol took over, you left with him to help work on the bridge. With the Saviors not always working well with others, things could get pretty hectic. Fights would break out, and often Daryl would be an aggressor. It was hot and sticky and bugs were everywhere all the time. The tent you shared was cramped and the nights were restless and uncomfortable. You couldn’t even have violent therapy sex without others listening in. There seemed to be no end to the suffering. Still, you remained by his side, no matter what.

        You stayed with him even when Rick blew up the bridge, when Daryl retired to the forest for six years. You’d often visit Hilltop or Alexandria to see old friends, but you stayed out there in that tent with him. Things were okay. He had become a bit softer, even in bed, but still he was withdrawn. You ate most of your meals in silence.

        Days dragged a lot of the time. When you got so bored you couldn’t stand it, you’d just take another trip to visit Maggie or Michonne and spend a few days away. He didn’t seem to mind, nor did he seem to worry about you taking care of yourself without him, so no harm done, you figured.

        One day you came home to see he had a dog. A dog, named Dog, apparently. 

        “Where’d you find him?” You asked as you patted and loved on the furry thing. 

        “Just out here.” He shrugged. He was holding something back, but you didn’t pry. You’d find out what it was soon enough, when you put the few tracking tips he taught you to good use, and tracked him on one of his hunts to find him at an old cabin. Another woman sat on the porch with him, long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. 

��       She noticed you as soon as you noticed her. She stood quickly, shotgun cocked and ready, barrel pointed right at you. You disregarded her completely, eyes trained on Daryl, who you didn’t think had any business at another woman’s house. 

        Dog stood pointedly at her side, growling and snarling at you. You realized he was her dog.

        Without a word, you just nodded, and stormed back to your camp. 

        By the time Daryl caught up, you were haphazardly throwing anything that belonged to you in your bag and rummaging around the campsite. 

        “(Y/N)—“

        “Don’t.” You cut him off.

        “It wasn’t—“

        “Wasn’t what?” You snapped, turning to face him, eyes blazing. “Wasn’t what it looked like? Yeah, right. Heard that one before.”

        Your body was trembling with rage. Considering the events that led to your relationship with him in the first place, you were infuriated that he’d be doing the same thing to you as your sleaze bag ex. We’re you eternally cursed to choose unfaithful men? 

        “No. It wasn’t.” He pleaded. You glanced down at Dog who sat idly by his side, tail wagging. 

        “Really? Cause I’ve never known a woman to loan anyone her dog without a good reason.” You glared. 

        “She didn’t. Dog found me. I followed him. That’s how I met her.”

        “Oh, cute. It’ll be a real nice story for your grandkids.” You rolled your eyes as you zipped up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 

        “(Y/N) will ya just stop?!” 

        “No!” You shouted, throwing your hands up with frustration. “No, I won’t stop! If there’s anything you should know by now, it’s that I’m nobody’s fucking side piece.” 

        “It ain’t like that! If ya’d just stop and listen!”

        He pleaded with you as he stalked behind you, slapping stray limbs out of his face as he dodged through trees to keep up your pace. He found that he, too, was shaking. He felt so much anxiety in that moment — the possibility of losing you, especially over something so stupid — it was tearing him apart. He found himself blinking away tears as you tried to speed away from him. But, as he blinked them back, the pressure in his throat and chest just seemed to push more out. He was terrified. He couldn’t let you walk away. 

        When he caught up, he reached out and gripped your arm, pulling you back. You spun around and looked right through him, eyes wide and full of your own tears.

        “(Y/N), please. Just stop and listen.” He breathed. 

        “You have thirty seconds.” 

        “It wasn’t nothin’ like that, okay? I swear. Her dog follows me around. I bring ‘im home to her sometimes. We talk a little. That’s it.” He explained. 

        “Why don’t you just talk to me?” You asked quietly. You had a point. You two spent the majority of your time in silence, to the point where you’d leave him for days just to go have a real conversation with someone. You always came home, though, because you’d rather suffer in silence then be away for too long.

        “I just—“ He took a breath to collect his thoughts. “She don’t know about none of it, ya know? I just.. I don’t look at her and see somebody else I let down.”

        “Is that what you see when you look at me?”

        “No.” He shook his head. His gums were raw from how hard he’d been chewing at them. “I see somebody I’m afraid o’ lettin’ down.”

        “You never let anyone down, Daryl.” You said harshly. “And you’d know that if you’d fucking come talk to our family once in a while. I’m tired of telling them you’re doing fine, even if you won’t crawl out of your fucking hole and go see anyone.”

          “I just..” His lip quivered a little as he looked down at you. He hated that feeling. His fists bunched up at his sides, legs stiff, boots glued in place. He felt so awkward and vulnerable when he tried to be open with anyone. Especially you. All he wanted was to be someone you relied on, someone you felt safe with. Every time he opened up, he felt like anything but that. “I’m sorry.” 

        His voice cracked as he uttered the apology. You faltered a little at the sight of him, but you stood firm. 

        “Well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time. I need you to prove it. With actions.”

        “Like what?” He asked eagerly.

         “Like talking to me, for starters. Have a fucking conversation with me. Talk to me while we eat dinner. Touch me. Act like you want anything to do with me.” You spat. While his voice had softened the moment you gave him a chance to explain himself, your tongue was still sharp and jagged. All these things you had thought and felt and bottled up for six years were finally out on the table. 

        “Okay.” He nodded. “I will.”

        You glared at him. In all your experience with men, it had never been so easy to get the changes you’d asked for.

          “And…” You thought hard. “Sex. Like, good sex. I haven’t busted a nut in like six years.” 

        His lips curled a little. He’d almost forgotten how blunt you could be, given the chance to speak your mind. You crossed your arms.

        “Okay.” He nodded again. “So what first?”

        You cocked an eyebrow at that. It was actually a good question. 

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        The bark of the tree scraped at your back as you gripped onto his shoulders. Lewd sounds filled the forest around you has he pumped his length in and out of you. You moaned and gasped, enjoying the familiarity of such intimate sex. It had been a long time since it felt that way. 

        Still, you weren’t reacting the way you used to, and he took notice. He wasn’t building you up the way he should have been by now.

        He slowed his pace down and broke the ongoing kiss to ask you; “What’s wrong?”

        “What? Nothing.” You panted impatiently, not understanding his sudden hesitance.

        “Somethin’s up.” He pressed.

        “I was starting to get close.” You insisted.

        “Nah ya weren’t.” He pointed out. “Hang on.”

         He hooked his hands under your thighs and dripped down to his knees, holding your legs up above his shoulders as his mouth found your mound. 

        You sucked in a breath of air at the sensation of his tongue tracing delicate circles around your clit. “Oh.” You breathed. “Shit.”

        He hummed against you, the gentle vibration making you twitch.

        Your nails dug into the tree behind you as you rocked against his mouth, relaxing your weight into the trunk as he held you up against it. 

        “Fuck.” You whined as your clit became more sensitive to his gentle laps. He sucked at your clit and fucked you with his tongue for a while, before he brought his attention back to your clit again and focused intensely on that sweet spot. 

        Soon your legs started to shake and your body began to buzz. The feeling washed over you quickly. A loud moan pushed past your lips as you came, writhing in his grip against the tree until you were twitching and jerking away from him. 

         With your orgasm finally out of the way, he was back on his feet, slapping into you, until his own high reached a climax and he was pumping you full of his cum. 

        When you recovered enough to pull your clothes back on and think a full, coherent thought, you realized something. 

        “Hey Daryl?” You asked as he buttoned up his jeans and adjusted his poncho.

        “Yeah?”

        “You didn’t pull out.” 

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #a mess