#super old piece but I still love this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kentopedia · 7 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LEAVING LIPSTICK STAINS ON LEVI

fem!reader, sfw, fluff, you leave lipstick all over levi before a mission and the scouts find out, just something super cutesy & short while i work on some longer pieces hehe, pls ignore errors lol, 1.3k words

“promise you’ll come back in one piece?” you say, smoothing the wrinkle between levi’s brow with a kiss.

he glances up at you from under his lashes, crinkling his nose as a short, breathy laugh escapes him, one he tries to subdue. still, he can’t deny the happiness that slips onto his features, not when joy is so fleeting because of the life that the two of you live.

cold hands run across your back, down to your hips as you straighten his collar, kissing his sharp cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. “i’ve made it this far, haven’t i?” levi mutters, squeezing your sides gently before shifting you off of his lap.

he lifts you, sets you on the edge of his desk, causing some of the papers that erwin had dropped off earlier to crinkle. a smile graces your lips as levi stands, stretching his limbs behind him, the chair pushing away from the desk with a creak.

“i’m going to be late because of you,” levi remarks, eyes narrowed playfully, but he gives you another kiss on the lips, lingering there like it’s painful to pull away.

“then stop kissing me.” your hands splay across his chest, but you don’t push him away, feeling his heart beat under his ribcage, the melody that you will always come back to. still, levi tugs your hips forward, slots in between your legs, and kisses you even deeper. “it’s time for you to go, captain levi.”

a heavy sigh weighs against your mouth, his exhale warm as he pulls back. “sounds like you want me gone.”

“of course i don’t.” your voice softens as you play with his fingers for a moment, before he's tugging them away gently, withdrawing from your figure. “i'm going to have to find someone else to sleep next to while you’re away."

normally, you would’ve been going with levi and the rest of the scouts, but an injury from your last mission prevented you from going on any more for a few weeks.

levi snorts, putting on his jacket, fixing the leather straps across his chest. “is that all i’m good for? killing titans and keeping your bed warm?”

you make a face at him, then shrug, half-hearted as he stares back at you with amusement. then, you laugh, cheerful and free; you know levi will come back to you. he has no other choice.

levi makes his way towards the door.

“levi?”

he turns, the lipstick stains still visible on his cheek, dark against his pale skin. for a moment, you wonder if you should tell him—if he’d be mad if you didn’t.

but then you remember he’s going to meet with a squad of fifteen year olds that have all almost died alongside him. if they really have a problem with their captain being loved by you, then they don’t care about him as much as you thought.

you smile and shake your head, voice holding just enough mischief for levi to notice. “just be safe. i love you.”

he softens. there are times where levi is hesitant to say the words, still worried you will be taken from him. but this is not one of those times. not when you will be separated for days, his life once again in danger. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

within ten minutes, levi is down to the first floor, pushing into the room where the members of his squad are already waiting.

he’s only a minute late, but he feels like they must have been waiting for hours, the way that they are all gawking at him with wide eyes, connie’s jaw faltering slightly. “everyone here?” levi asks, doing a quick scan of the room, counting heads like he’s their babysitter.

no one says anything. eren’s eyes look like they might bulge out of his head, and jean covers his mouth, looking away as him and sasha let out a stifled giggle.

levi’s mouth draws into an even thinner line. “what the hell are you snickering about?" he grumbles, looking at each of them individually, wondering who will be the first to confess.

their eyes dart away dramatically, faces red. even eren, who is normally more obnoxious than the rest, seems to have run out of words to say.

his eye twitches; levi wonders if connie’s head might burst, or if sasha’s laugh will rip out of her first.

“well?” levi asks again, snapping, already tired of this mission. a hot cup of tea sounds nice, in bed next to you.

armin, as usual, is the one to speak up when no one else has anything intelligent to say. “well, sir,” the blonde says, gesturing towards his own face. “i think…”

levi touches his cheek, remembering all the places you’d kissed him earlier, wearing that pretty black dress and your dark lipstick. a sigh leaves him when he pulls his fingers away, the tips coming back, smeared with a deep red.

he should've known.

“i see," levi says, staring for a moment, before meeting eren's eyes, his lips finally widening into a grin.

“ooooh," eren sings, his expression smug as mikasa elbows him, her own features pinched tight. "the captain’s in looooove."

levi knows they are expecting a reaction, a spectacle of the fact that he adores you. but he’s never kept it a secret, and he’s certainly not ashamed of all the things he feels for you.

“and what if i am?” levi asks instead, pointedly staring eren down as the rest of the scouts watch the exchange. “honestly, i am surprised no one noticed sooner.”

eren’s jaw falters a bit; a small wave of silence falls over the scouts. you and levi don't make a point of hiding your relationship, but really, levi shouldn’t have been surprised that no one in his squad was observant enough to notice.

or so he thought, anyway.

historia’s smaller, high-pitched voice breaks up the quiet, repeating your name back to him, as if affirmation that you’re the one he kisses goodnight. a silly question really, considering levi has never looked at anyone else with the same kind of tenderness.

“it is her, isn’t it?” historia asks, smiling softly. “i only know because you’re always holding hands under the table when you think no one can see.”

levi raises his eyebrow. “clearly we were wrong about that.” though, of all the things to notice, he thought it’d be the way you kiss him after every mission, the way he’s harder on you than anyone else because he doesn’t want to lose you.

eren shrieks your name like he’s never heard it before, and levi is starting to wonder if the boy actually is an idiot. his old squad had known immediately; petra caught you sneaking up to levi’s quarters when you thought everyone else was asleep, kissing him on the cheek when you thought everyone's back was turned.

it’s been a long time since then, he supposes. maybe the years have taught you subtlety.

“how long have you been together?”

“does she actually like you?”

“do you—” connie makes a lewd gesture with his fingers. “you know.”

“connie!” jean shouts, whacking him on the back of the head. “what do you think! dumbass.”

“hey!" connie says, rubbing his head. “geez. i just can’t picture it.”

"i’d rather you didn’t." levi’s face turns sour, disturbed by a room full of teenagers discussing his private and romantic life. “bring it up again and i’ll leave you outside of the wall on the next mission.” he pauses, crosses his arms with an exasperated exhale. “and she likes me just fine. at least, she has for the past five years.”

“five—”

a new wave of questioning starts and levi pinches his temples, shakes his head, the red smear of lipstick still on his face.

levi almost wishes you could’ve been there to field the questions instead. you’ve always been better with the kids, connected with them a lot easier than levi had.

even if it was would’ve exposed his lovesick eyes, the tiny lift of the corner of his mouth when you were around.

he’s never been very good about hiding it anyway.

6K notes · View notes

ghoulphile · 2 months

Text

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

3K notes · View notes

missmatchablossom · 2 months

Text

summary: being megumi's babysitter has two benefits: you get to hang out with an adorable kid, and you get to work for gojo satoru. when gojo finally asks you on a date, the two of you drop off megumi to uncle nanami's for the day while gojo spoils you. but your megumi's separation anxiety might get in the way :')

a/n: megumi is 4-5 years old and is super attached to you. very fluffy and sweet, smutty at the end with soft top gojo. cursing, female reader.

tags: @gojonegs @brevnaaa @sad-darksoul

You busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing a bunch of snacks for Megumi to take for his day with Uncle Nanami and Yuji. The preschooler stuck to your side like glue - always wanting to be next to you or within your line of sight - so you settled him on the sofa where he could still see you.

“Anything else you want me to pack you, my love?” you asked, waiting for Megumi's usual request for extra strawberries. When he didn’t respond, you walked over to his spot on the couch where he was sitting with his chin tucked to his chest.

“Megumi? What’s wrong,” you asked gently, noticing the tremble in his bottom lip.

“I wanna go too,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes. You knelt down to his level, holding his hands in yours.

“Ah, you don’t want to go play with Uncle Nanami and Yuji?” you said softly.

“I stay with you,” he said, his voice wavering with tears. It shattered your heart to pieces, and you struggled to keep your own eyes from watering.

You sat next to him on the couch, lifting him into your lap. He hugged you tight, burying his face into your chest like he usually did when he was sad or sleepy.

“I promise you will have so much fun. Uncle Nanami told me Yuji has been bugging him for a playdate with you too! I hear you’re going to the zoo today,” you said, rubbing his back in soothing circles as his sniffles quieted.

You pulled back so you could look into his eyes.

“Gojo and I are going to have our own playdate today, but the places we’re going won’t be fun for you,” you reasoned, smoothing his wild raven hair back.

“I’ll let you in on a secret though,” you said cheekily, leaning forward to touch your forehead to his.

“I really like Gojo. But I love you the most,” you said, your voice tapering off to a whisper at the end.

Finally, Megumi smiled - so adorable and happy that you were second guessing your choice to drop him off at Nanami’s today.

“Wow! Megumi smiled! You know what that means right,” you said, mirroring Megumi’s growing smile with one of your own.

“Kiss attack!” you yelled, assaulting his cheeks and forehead with kisses, causing him to laugh loudly- the kind of free, unsupressed laughter that only little kids could make.

The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway caught your attention.

“That must be Gojo! Why don’t we try scaring him?” you said, giggling as Megumi nodded eagerly. The two of you crept over to the side of the door, crouching right out of sight.

As soon as Gojo opened the door, you both jumped up in front of him, yelling nonsensically. Gojo being gojo, didn’t flinch at all, and instead greeted you both with one of those annoyingly beautiful, nonchalant smiles of his.

“Next time you wanna scare me, try to keep the giggling down. I could hear you both from the end of the hallway,” Gojo said, ruffling Megumi’s hair.

“Lame,” Megumi muttered, and you looked away to smother your laugh. You’d never heard him say that word before, but you’d definitely heard Gojo say it a few times.

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you what’s lame,” Gojo said, scooping up Megumi into his arms. Megumi squealed with laughter as Gojo tilted Megumi down, chanting “uh oh, uh oh, uh oh” until the preschooler was completely upside down.

“Okay okay! Let him breathe,” you said, smiling as Gojo righted a very rosy Megumi in his arms. He finally paused to look at you - and I mean he really looked at you, his eyes traveling up and down your body appreciatively.

It was the reaction you’d hoped for - you were all dressed up for your date after all. But it still made you blush insanely.

Gojo smirked to himself, leaning his head down to whisper something in Megumi’s ear. Megumi tilted his head in confusion, turning to face you as he told you “He said you’re pwetty.”

Your cast your eyes up to Gojo, who was already smiling warmly at you. You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips either.

“What’s pwetty?” Megumi asked, looking adorably confused in Gojo’s arms.

“If you say someone is pretty, it means looking at them makes you happy,” Gojo explained, though he was looking at you while he talked, making your stomach do those familiar summersaults it did whenever you had his attention.

Megumi’s eyes widened in understanding, immediately turning his attention back to you.

“Megumi thinks you’re pwetty too,” Megumi said, making your heart swell again. You thanked him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, then swiftly planting one on Gojo’s.

Gojo looked stunned for a second before he broke out into an even bigger, brilliant smile, the kind that made him look young and carefree.

The three of you arrived to Nanami’s place quickly, Gojo carrying the bag you packed while you and Megumi held hands.

As soon as the door open, Yuji came barreling towards Megumi, practically knocking him over with the force of his hug.

“Megumi!!! We gonna see tigers today!!!” Yuji yelled.

You and Gojo shared a look, the two of you holding back laughter at Megumi’s annoyed face.

“Yuji, how many times have I told you to greet people properly,” Nanami chided. Yuji apologized, quickly greeting you and Gojo before he dragged Megumi inside.

Megumi followed him, but stopped in his tracks to turn back and look at you.

“You come back?” Megumi asked, in such a small and uncertain tone that you had to take a deep breath to fend off the impending tears.

“Yes my love, I promise I’ll be back. Now go have lot’s of fun okay?” you said, watching as he nodded, wiped at his eyes, then turned join Yuji.

“Hey, why aren’t you worried if I’ll come back?” Gojo added, calling Megumi’s name a few times. Nanami chucked as Megumi completely ignored him.

“He’s quite fond of you. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” Nanami said, smiling warmly at you. You didn’t have a single doubt it your mind that he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop the wave of sadness washing over you when it finally hit you that you’d be apart. Even though you had only been his babysitter for a couple months, you loved that kid like he was your own.

“Oy, why are you addressing her at not me?” Gojo said, but was again ignored.

“Thank you Nanami. Let me know if when you’d like me to watch Yuji for you, free of charge,” you said smiling as you peered inside, seeing Megumi and Yuji absorbed by Nanami’s fishtank.

Nanami thanked you, and Gojo ushered you out the door before you could cling to Megumi again.

The short walk back to the car was quiet - until you began sniffling. Gojo stopped in his tracks, turning to look at you as he chuckled in disbelief.

“Are you crying?” he asked, gently cupping your cheek in his hand.

“Maybe,” you sniffed, traitorous tears gathering in your eyes. He laughed to himself as he swiped the tears off your cheeks.

“Ah, and here I thought Megumi was the one with the separation anxiety,” he teased.

“I can’t help it! I just love that kid, okay?” you said, joining him in his laughter as your tears slowed.

“I know you do. And I am very grateful for it,” he said, adopting a low, affectionate tone as he swiped off the last tear off your face.

“But I’m gonna ask you to just think of me today, because I have been waiting ages to have you to myself,” he drawled, planting a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

Gojo Satoru did not hold back when it came to dates. Not that you’d expect anything less, but you certainly didn’t anticipate what he had planned; wine tasting, dinner, and the arcade. Except he booked the most extravagant wine tasting, reserving an entire floor of the winery for the two of you two of you. And he chose a rooftop dinner at sunset at the most exclusive restaurant in the city, where the chef prepared a special tasting menu just for the two of you. And he completed the date with a trip to the local arcade, which he completely booked for just the two of you to enjoy. You couldn’t recall ever having that much fun, let alone on a first date.

The two of walked leisurely, fingers interlaced, happiness from the evening practically emanating off of you.

“So, how’d I do?” Gojo asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“That was the most amazing date I’ve ever been on. I can’t believe you did all of that for me, as a first date,” you said, the disbelief and wonder evident in your voice. Gojo’s rich laughter filled your ears.

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he said confidently, giving you a boyish grin before he winked.

You gaped at him, because how could this be him getting started? Before you could question him more, he stilled.

“We’re here,” he said, guiding you inside an incredibly well decorated building.

“Here? I thought our date was over,” you said in confusion, following him as he pulled you further inside. The two of you were immediately greeted by workers dressed in immaculate uniforms. You recognized this place as one of the fanciest - and most expensive - hotels in the area.

“You didn’t forget the promise I made you last time, did you?” Gojo whispered in your ear, eliciting a shiver out of you. Oh, you remembered.

“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”

Except this wasn’t his bedroom.

You looked at him in shock as he led you to the penthouse suite. It was a gorgeous space - a breathtaking view of the city, a lavishly made bed covered in rose petals, a stupidly enormous hot tub. But none of it drew your attention more than Gojo himself, gazing at you like he was going to devour you.

“Gojo, this must have cost a fortune,” you said, gulping as he took slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Baby, I am filthy rich - this is nothing. I hope you have expensive taste, because I plan on spoiling the hell out of you,” he purred, and you knew he absolutely meant it.

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you. You could see the silver specks sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. Smell his intoxicating cologne. Hear the minute shift in his breathing. Part of you wanted to runaway from his attentive, heady stare. But another part of you wanted to bask in his attention, to revel in in.

“Are you gonna keep standing there staring, or are you finally gonna fuck me?” you said breathlessly, watching the way his eyes darkened and his lips parted.

He closed the distance between you, tilting your chin up as devoured you with desparate, open-mouthed kisses.

He bent down, lifting you up so his hands gripped your ass, your legs wrapped around his hips. You ran your hands across him greedily, shamelessly exploring his body from the soft skin of his collar to the silky strands of his hair.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, steadying you on his lap. You broke the kiss, gasping as he tugged you flush over his erection. Your dress had ridden up - leaving only the thin fabric of your underwear and his slacks separating the two of you.

“See what you do to me?” he murmured against your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw. He slid his lips lower, niping and sucking against a sensitive spot at the base of your neck while he ground his hips against you. You threw your head back, moaning as he lightly bit down at the same spot, grazing you with his teeth.

“You are so beautiful. I love hearing you moan,” he praised, laying you on the bed so you were flat on your back.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath before he slid the straps of your dress down, kissing each inch of exposed skin until he reached your breasts. He stared at them appreciatively, humming to himself in satisfaction before he took your nipple into his mouth. You whined and writhed as he swirled his tongue against your sensnitive peak, sucking on you as he drew circles against the sensitive skin on your hip.

You lifted your hips up to grind against his ever-growing erection, desparate for friction. He moaned with you in his mouth, drawing back to tease you with a devastating smile.

“Someone’s impatient, hm?” he said lowly, rolling his hips against you. You could only moan in reply.

Suddenly, he moved himself off of you. You jerked your head up to complain, until he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed, sliding to his knees before you. You soft gasps turned to pants as Gojo lifted your thighs over his shoulders, positioning himself perfectly between your legs.

“Can I go down on you?” he asked, placing slow, open mouthed kisses on the insides of your thigh.

“Please,” you begged, unable to keep your hips from lifting off the bed. Gojo gripped his hands on either side of your hips, pressing you down into the bed.

“Then stay still for me like a good girl,” he said, pressing a kiss against your clit through your already soaked underwear.

He flickered his eyes up to you before he yanked your panties to the side, licking a slow stripe up your core. You cursed as you threw your head back, tangling your hands through his silver locks. Gojo closed his eyes as he fucked you with his tongue, alternating between dipping his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit. He moaned as he palmed himself through his pants, like he was the one drawing pleasure from eating you out.

“I could cum from the sound of your little whimpers and moans,” he said, eyes glazed over, lips swollen and dripping. The way he looked nearly send you over the edge.

You jolted up as you felt him drag his finger lightly across your core.

“May I?” he asked, eyes nearly black from the pleasure. You nodded your head, barely holding back a scream as Gojo slid his finger inside you, curling up as he sucked on your clit at the same time.

You came harder than you’d ever before, the wave of pleasure so unbearably sweet it had you gasping for air. Gojo brought his fingers to his mouth, closing his eyes as he sucked them clean.

“You taste as sweet as I dreamed,” he praised, moving forward to kiss you. You lazily kissed him back, reaching down between you to stroke him through his pants. He broke the kiss to moan in your ear, low and desparate.

“Can I fuck you now?” he asked, trailing kisses across your breasts. You nodded, the post-orgasm daze making you feel light and warm.

Gojo reached for a condom, but you stopped him with a hand on his.

“I’m on birth control. You can fuck me raw,” you said, enjoying the way his eyes hooded.

“If you keep talking to me like that, I’ll come in 2 seconds,” he warned, making you giggle. Your laughter turned to gasps when the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slowly sliding to the hilt, reaching the spot that made you whimper.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he cursed, pressing his forehead against yours as he slid his cock in and out of you. You scraped your nails down the smooth skin of his back as he quickened his pace, his hips wetly slapping against the back of your thighs as he drove into you.

“You hear that? You’re fucking soaked for me baby,” he panted, not bothering to cease his thrusts.

It was too much - his filthy praise in your ear, how deep he was hitting, the way he swiped his thumb over your clit as he fucked you. Your second orgasm seared into you, and you bit into his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“You are so pretty when you cum on my cock,” he said, kissing across your jaw.

You lightly pushed on his shoulder, a silent plea for him to give you a break. He complied right away, pulling his still very much erect cock out of you.

“Now, will you please sit on the bed so I can ride your cock?” you said, batting your lashes at him as you smiled.

He closed his eyes as the words came out, rolling his jaw as if he could barely contain himself.

“Fuck yes,” he murmured, moving to sit with his back against the headboard.

You crawled over to him, positioning his cock over your entrance as he steadied you with his hands on your hips. You indulged yourself in the way he threw his head back, murmuring a slow curse as you sank completely onto him. He moaned each time you sank back down onto him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you quickened your pace.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he moaned, the grip he had on your hips becoming deliciously painful.

“Fill me up,” you said, smiling sultrily as he let out a string of curses and filthy praises. Barely a second later his hips bucked up as he came, spilling his warm seed inside you where it belonged.

If you thought the normal Gojo was attractive, sex-dazed Gojo was sinfully sexy - a feint flush over his porcelain skin, lips pinked and swollen, silvery hair in disarray, and a satisfied smile on his face.

You collapsed onto him, laying your head on his chest as pulled you closer. You both stayed in each other’s arms until you both caught your breath, relaxing as you cuddled.

“Oh my gosh wait what time is it? Don’t we need to pick up Megumi soon?” you said, sitting up suddenly.

“Relax baby. We have some time left,” he soothed, pulling you back into his arms.

“Still thinking about my kid, even as we’re laying naked together with my cum still inside of you?” he said, suddenly popping your tit into his mouth. You yelped, smothering a moan before he pulled back, laughing.

“He just popped into my mind, I promise. You’ve had my attention this whole day. I can’t even begin of thinking how I could repay you,” you reassured, pressing light kisses against his lips.

“You can repay me by going on another date with me. I already have it planned and booked so you have to say yes,” he said, trailing soft kisses against your shoulder as you giggled. You stood no chance against this man.

Definitely not when he princess-carried you to the bathtub. Not when he sat behind you, gently brushing his hands over your body as he cleaned you up, not letting you lift a finger. Not when he blow-dried your hair for you. Not when he laid out a comfortable set of clothes to change into - consisting of one of his crewnecks and yoga pants. Nope, no chance against this man.

When Nanami answered the door, his eyes immediately took in the obviously over-sized sweater you were wearing. He gave you a knowing smile, sending a blush to your cheeks as you avoided his eyes.

As you and Gojo walked inside, you noticed how abnormally quiet it was. The reason why became abundantly clear as you spotted Megumi and Yuji cuddled up on the couch, completely knocked out.

“They were very hyper at the zoo today. I’m surprised they didn’t fall asleep sooner,” Nanami said in a hushed voice, smiling warmly at the two boys. He showed you the pictures he took of the two throughout the zoo: Yuji and Megumi in matching tiger headbands, Yuji and Megumi walking while holding hands, Yuji sitting at the top of an enormous elephant statue, Megumi starting wide-eyed at the giant panda exhibit. You had Nanami send them to you immediately, already planning to get the pictures printed out.

You turned to show Gojo the pictures, but he was knelt down besides the two boys. He wore an affectionate smile on his face looking between the two of them before he smoothed Megumi’s hair back, gently patting his side until he stirred.

“Time to go home Megumi,” he said softly. Megumi reached his arms towards Gojo, not bothering to open his eyes as Gojo lifted him into his arms. The two of you thanked Nanami as you walked out, promising to host the next playdate between Megumi and Yuji.

Once you reached the car, Gojo made quick work fastening Megumi into his carseat without waking him, draping his jacket over Megumi before opening the passenger door for you. You thanked him with a kiss, promising to come inside his place to tuck Megumi in before you went back to your apartment.

The preschooler slept quietly as you carried him to the apartment, barely moving as you laid him in his bed and pulled the blankets over him. Only when you pressed a kiss to his forehead did he wake up, blinking up at you sleepily. Suddenly, his navy eyes were welling up with tears as he wiggled out of bed, nearly launching himself into your arms. You hugged him close, patting his back as he sniffled.

“You were so brave today going to the zoo with Nanami and Yuji. Did you have fun?” you said, rocking him gently as his cries settled. He nodded, gripping your sweater in his little hands.

“We go together next time?” he asked quietly. You squeezed him even tighter against you.

“Yes, lets go together next time. We can play your favorite games tomorrow, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up,” you cooed, kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t go,” Megumi said, beginning to cry once more. You tried rocking him to sleep, murmuring promises of all the fun you’ll have together tomorrow, to no avail. Gojo walked into the room, sitting on the bed beside you.

‘What’s all the fuss, Megumi?” he asked, swiping some of the tears off Megumi’s cheeks.

“No go,” he managed to say through his tears, sending sharp pains through your heart as his cries shook his little body.

“It’s been a while since he spent the day apart from both of us. It must have really shocked him,” you said, guilt stabbing into your chest.

“When I first brought him home, he never cried at all. He’s really lucky to have someone he can miss so much now,” Gojo said lightheartedly, bringing a smile back to your face.

“Why don’t you just sleep over?” he asked. You snapped your eyes to his, searching for the usual amusement in his eyes that let you know he was teasing. But there wasn’t any.

“Are you sure?” you asked tentatively. Cuddling Megumi while you slept and waking up to Gojo sounded like a dream come true.

“I’m sure. Only if you’re comfortable with it, I know it would make Megumi happy,” he said, patting Megumi’s back. “And it would make me happy to wake up to you,” he added at the end, the sincerity in his tone making you smile like an idiot.

“Okay, I’ll stay. You hear that Megumi? I’m gonna stay with you the whole night!” you said. The preschooler finally lifted his face from your chest, looking up at you with watery eyes.

“Stay?” he mumbled, wiping at his eyes.

“Yup, I’ll sleep next to you in your bed okay?” you said, cupping his face in your hands. Megumi finally stopped crying, nodding his head as he calmed.

“I’ll get some extra pillows for you,” Gojo said, moving to get up. Megumi stopped him with a small hand on his shoulder.

“No, stay too,” he said, reaching his arms out towards Gojo. Gojo chucked in disbelief, taking Megumi into his arms.

“I’m touched Megumi. I thought you only missed her,” he teased, but the warm smile on his face gave away how truly pleased he was about it.

Megumi shook his head, clinging onto Gojo’s chest so cutely you wanted to take a photo.

“Let’s all just sleep in my bed together then,” Gojo offered, lifting his brows at you as he smiled.

“Together?” Megumi said, looking between the two of you. Ah, now you for sure couldn’t say no. Not that you were going to.

“Yes baby, we’’ll be sleeping next to you the whole night, so you don’t have to worry okay?” you said, scooting close so you were flush against Gojo’s side.

Megumi finally smiled, hugging the two of you as much as he could. Gojo turned his body, enveloping both you and Megumi in his arms. You felt tears prick against your eyes as you were overcome with a wave of happiness. This is where you belonged, where you always wanted to be.

You fell asleep peacefully, cuddled up with your back against Gojo’s front and Megumi asleep against your chest.

check out the part 1 to this fic if you enjoyed this! :)

1K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 11 months

Text

you and me got a whole lotta history | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x historian!reader

y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world…

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 102,561 others

location: melbourne 📍

yourusername: so it’s the australian grand prix and i’ve spent the start of the week exploring this old city. one of my stops was the historic old melbourne gaol. this now museum was once a prison that housed some of the most feared criminals in australian history. constructed in 1839, the old melbourne gaol saw 133 hanged for their crimes between 1845 and 1924. it was briefly used during world war two but ceased operation as a prison in 1924 and was renovated to be part of the RMIT university and the museum it is today. a definite must if you’re visiting melbourne !!

view all comments

user1: my fave part of the race week is y/n’s museum recommendations tbf

user2: i can vision charles being dragged around this place hating his life

charles_leclerc: the things we do for love

yourusername: you said you enjoyed it :(

charles_leclerc: I DID

user2: oops

yourusername: i’ll leave you at the hotel next time

charles_leclerc: it was scary but i enjoyed it because i was with you

yourusername: okay that’s better

danielricciardo: so my farm isn’t good enough for you

yourusername: noooooo danny i thought we were going after the race?

danielricciardo: oof my bad

user3: petition for there to be a teds notebook but it’s y/n giving us a historical guide to the city the race is in

f1: we’re listening @skysportsf1

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderica ferrari and 788,341 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: tough race in melbourne but a beautiful city regardless

view all comments

user4: HE served, we don’t talk about the race

yourusername: i don’t mean to say i told you so but i did say our day trip would be the best part

user5: girl you’re gonna get banned from the ferrari garage

yourusername: they deserve far worse than what i’m saying let’s be real

user5: true

user6: i love how charles didn’t reply ferrari has his ass ON LOCK

carlossainz55: we'll come back stronger

danielricciardo: we can all commiserate at my farm bro

charles_leclerc: your farm better be as good as you're saying now

danielricciardo: nervously awaiting the y/n review

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 104,561 others

location: miami 📍

yourusername: though miami may be known for it's partying (it's all about the U), charles and i took our monday to take a stroll around st bernard de clairvaux church, one of miami's hidden gems. the church was originally built in spain all the way back in 1141 to the style of cistercian romanesque architecture for alfonso vii. the monastry's cloister was illegally purchased by american william randolph hearst in 1926 and in order for the church to be transported it was dismantled to 11,000 pieces and sent to the us where it was rebuilt and still stands to this day.

view all comments

user7: i'm never gonna be able to afford to go to miami so why did i read this whole thing like i'll visit some day?

yourusername: history is important and interesting, always good to read even if you never visit !!

user8: she's like the older sister i never had

user9: did charles enjoy this one more?

yourusername: "at least i'll get a tan here"

charles_leclerc: i feel like anyone who reads about me in your comments will think i'm an asshole, i have fun every time i just don't understand most of it

yourusername: i know you have fun baby (and i love you for driving us to all of these places)

user10: have you considered our super historic frat house this saturday night?

user11: imagine thinking you have a chance when her literal boyf is CHARLES LECLERC

user10: every goal has a goalkeeper doesn't mean you can't score

charles_leclerc: i will run you over

user12: omg ferrari's pr is quaking

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lancestroll and 112,677 others

yourusername: it is my biggest honour to announce my position as a history lecturer here at oxford!! i always dreamed of studying here and to get to pass on my knowledge to those looking to follow in my footsteps is a huge pleasure and responsibility.

p.s. no worries, it is not full time so race week explorations will continue.

view all comments

user13: so it was true :(((((( wait i just read the whole post my bad

user14: so i guess i now need to turn my Cs into As if i wanna attend a y/n lecture

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you my love - don't miss me too much

yourusername: you sure i can't persuade you to move to england with me :(

charles_leclerc: i'll be there as much as i can be but monaco is still our home

yourusername: always

landonorris: proud of you smarty pants

yourusername: thank you landito

landonorris: so you'll now root for the brits?

charles_leclerc: over my dead body

yourusername: what charlie said

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,209,778 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: super happy for another win for the season but we keep pushing for the real prize at the end of the season - thank you for your continued support tifosi and my love y/n who stayed up all the way in oxford ❤️

view all comments

user20: i don't wanna jinx it but like the season is going well

user21: too well....

yourusername: winning looks good on you

charles_leclerc: you look better on me

pierregasly: oh god you've been apart for a triple header and now you're being horny on main

yourusername: says mr. doggy emoji

pierregasly: touche

user22: so charles can mathematically win in either austin or brazil FUCK THEM KIDS I NEED Y/N AT THESE RACES

user23: if she's not there for charles wdc i am personally going to have a sleepover on the train tracks

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 503,786 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: the autodromo jose carlos pace is the crown jewel of the interlagos neighbourhood. the circuit opened 83 years ago and has hosted the f1 since 1972. the circuit was originally meant to be a housing area but due to the 1929 stock market crash the owners decided to construct a racing track instead. interlagos is often a season decider with fernando alonso winning both his 2005 and 2006 titles here, kimi raikkonen winning the 2007 championship here, lewis hamilton won the 2008 championship here, jenson button clinched the 2009 title here and CHARLES LECLERC WON HIS FIRST TITLE HERE IN INTERLAGOS FOR THE 2023 SEASON

on a real note i am so proud of you charles, i have seen the sacrifices you have made and the unbelievable amount of effort you pour into every facet of your racing NO ONE deserves this more than you. i am so grateful to have shared this moment with you, here's to many more xxx

view all comments

user26: i am unwell this is so fucking cute

user27: bro this is so fucking crazy

charles_leclerc: couldn't have done it without you, so glad you could be there for me xx

yourusername: always charlie xx

yourstudent: miss y/n you can cancel all of our lectures if charles wins the championship again FORZA FERRARI

charles_leclerc: the people have spoken

user28: insane butterfly effect of the wall street crash to charles leclerc 2023 wdc

user29: they make me believe in love

note: this was super random but popped into my head while at work and i knew i had to write it !! hope you enjoyed xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x you

5K notes · View notes

dr-felitas · 2 months

Text

to love is to learn

synopsis: aventurine is still unexposed to the many concepts of this world. but that doesn't mean he won't try to get to know them if it's for you.

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, insecure aventurine, established relationship, my ass wrote this in an hour and its super late rn i just wanna upload this and my lazy ass did NOT proofread this + im on mobile so hell, kinda HELLA rushed ; ficlet

a/n: just the other day me and azul were talking about what body parts of aven would be sensitive and we got to his collarbone and azul said that he thinks that it'd be super evident so i pointed out that it might be cause he was used to starvation and barely ate even when he got to the ipc/had the chance to do so. SO I JUST HAD TO WRITE SMTH.

tags: @azullumi

aventurine shudders under your touch. your nimble fingers trace across his collarbone, featherlight movements, touch so delicate, it makes him tremble.

the pads of your digits lightly dance across his clavicle, one finger turns into two. your index swiftly slides over the pale skin that separates the bone that lies underneath. while your thumb starts inching closer the neckline of his satin pajama, diving beneath. at that he can't help but flinch.

“oh god.” he laughs out. “someone's being touchy today.” his voice is filled with joy. hearing, seeing, knowing that aventurine has fun around you, makes you crave for more. his laugh is an intoxicating drug. something that you'll always long for, absorbing it until every part of your body is stained with the tantalising essence and puts you to your demise.

you don't stop your actions, instead continuing to glide your fingers along his delicate body. “sorry, for i couldn't help it!” a giggle escapes your mouth.

“i just thought about how pretty it is.” you let out a small hum.

“my collarbone? pretty, how come?” he's confused, what is the beauty you see within his body?

his body is fragile. it's a hollow shell he carries around. ugly and not worthy of your attention even less your admiration, abused and marked in burns. when the digits that he carries around like a sacred body part of his, roughly engraved on his neck, come in contact with any kind of substance, liquid or his own fingers. he's reminded of the mishap his body was or rather is in. how it was abused and dragged through the mud.

putting his calloused fingers around the tattoo, stings. the touch lingers like a nostalgic scent which still remains on an old piece of clothing, one that has never been washed so the smell never fades away. it burns up at the slightest touch. hurting just as much as when it was freshly inflicted onto his young body.

kakavasha doesn't even know what he looks like. the only person he sees in the mirror is aventurine. sure he walked past puddles of dirty rain back in his childhood, reflecting his younger self, but the images are vague and blurry. he doesn't know what kakavasha looks like and he probably never will.

and neither do you. the only thing you have in front of you right now is aventurine. a shattered soul that doesn't know where it belongs. his being consists of a thousand fragments, they're scattered thoughts that are similar to broken mirror shards.

they reflect the tales of his heart and reveal its greatest desire. mirroring those untold stories like the surface of the water. thoughts and wishes that are full of pureness, almost childlike.

the broken pieces that make up the man who's named aventurine long for a haven which he can call a safe space - a home. but on the other hand he thinks that he's not permitted to find such a place, that he's not allowed to stay, undeserving of it.

“no particular reason. i just like the way it stands out, it's easy to find and trace.” the words that roll off your tongue sting. they probably hurt as much as a paper cut you've received as a little kid, but it's not like kakavasha knows or is able to relate - he didn't get to grow up like the other children. but he can't blame you, you're oblivious to his past.

his body has gone through physical and emotional abuse. beat ups, labor or starvation. the reason why his collarbone is so evident, the face you adore is so slim, and his rips slightly poke through his body, is all because kakavashas hunger has never been satisfied and the dryness in his throat has never been quenched.

even after he put on the mask of the man who calls himself aventurine - a wealthy man, who’s a member of the ten stone hearts that makes more money than he spends, he's still reluctant when it comes to eating. of course he could buy all the delicacies that kakavasha never got to try - never even knew, but he hesitates.

the concept of chewing and swallowing the bits is still something aventurine can't befriend himself with. it's unfamiliar - he's not used to it, the feeling of a full stomach, what it's like to be satisfied after a meal. it's something foreign to him, a feeling he's not sure he'll ever get accustomed to.

he doesn't think he deserves to eat. to know what it feels like to be full, the rumbling that comes from his stomach is the one he grew up with is what brought him here. he fears that if he gets too comfortable with something or someone he'll forget who he is.

a lost soul that mourns after the past, but saved itself from the dark abyss, freeing itself. not allowing himself to get too close, always keeping everyone that comes near him at an arm's length. worrying he might grow too attached.

so why is he still here? here with you, chattering happily and conversing freely, he doesn't deserve it - he doesn't deserve you.

but is it wrong to be selfish for once? he knows the answer already: it is. but he can't help it, not when you coax him into this position, one which he can't leave, no matter how hard he tries.

“i love you.” you trace the letters along his neck, over the tattoo that is engraved on his skin.

you don't need a verbal answer to know that he feels the same way. perhaps, he himself hasn't realized it yet but he's conveyed his love for you many times already. just like now as he continues to lie in bed with you.

the both of you are oblivious, but that doesn't mean that either of you will stop in your tracks, turn back and leave. (even though he sometimes wishes to do so)

both satisfaction and love are two unfamiliar concepts for aventurine. but he'll try to get to know them. for the sake of you.

#toorurs #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine imagines #kakavasha x reader #aventurine fluff #kakavasha fluff #aventurine

566 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 2 months

Text

Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose.

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#bhh #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

818 notes · View notes

cursedcola · 8 months

Text

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference

Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.

The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.

For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.

Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.

Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?

When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.

He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.

Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.

It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.

Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.

Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.

Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.

You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?

Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.

He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?

"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"

White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!

He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.

Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.

Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.

Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.

You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.

After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.

Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.

The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.

There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.

Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?

These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.

Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees

"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:

It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.

Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.

You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.

"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough

With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.

He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.

He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.

In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.

He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...

Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.

Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.

That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.

"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"

Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.

He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.

Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.

He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...

In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.

His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.

You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.

Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable

He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?

For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.

Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?

Well....shit (pleasant connotation)

He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.

It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.

Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.

You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.

Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.

He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.

Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...

Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.

"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.

"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.

"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"

{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}

{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #IM DEAD #THIS TOOK FOUR HOURS #I LEGIT WAS NOT PLANNING TO WRITE ALL THIS #MY HANDS

1K notes · View notes

cowboydisaster · 9 months

Text

Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world.

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special.

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut.

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist.

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand.

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face.

“Yes, I’ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen.

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response.

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly.

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller.

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask.

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask.

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him.

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon.

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck.

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him.

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back.

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better.

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest.

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up.

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago.

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment.

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence.

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist.

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2

2K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 11 months

Text

✩࿐TRACK 01: RIGHT HERE. katsuki bakugou (2K)

about. leaving katsuki bakugou was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. pretending that you no longer love him every time he calls is even harder.

warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, slight angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, happy ending, break ups, mentions of harassment, exes to lovers, pro hero + fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

things to note. yay !! the first fic of the series !! idk im really excited about these and they were super fun to write. i hope you guys enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / playlist ✩

leaving katsuki was probably the hardest thing you’ve had to do in all your years of living.

being one another’s first loves, you feel like you owe a piece of yourself to him. the relationship that you founded together leaving high school had taught you so much, about yourself, about him and about how the world worked. it was comfortable with katsuki, he knew you liked the back of his own hands — what made you smile the way he liked, what made you laughed in the way that made his stomach twist with a joyous emotion he didn’t even know he was capable of, what made you squirm and what made you pissed off, too.

and as you navigated the challenges of adulthood, grew into your lives and yourself — stretched the skin around your bones to spread your wings you realised that overtime, katsuki made you sadder than he made you happier. you made him feel angrier than he made you feel calm.

neither of you were prepared to let go, holding onto frayed ends of a love that had built up your confidence and set you on the course for the rest of your lives. but to say it ended on good terms would be a lie too. you needed an out and took the first one you saw, a friend on the other side of the country was starting an agency on their own and needed a partner. you knew it would hurt bakugou more than anything, so perhaps, that’s why you did it.

you left in the middle of the night to fulfill the dream you and the blonde had come up with together — with someone else.

of course, leaving him behind wasn’t easy and it still isn’t. cutting katsuki completely out of your life wasn’t a viable option and at least not for long, three months after your big move he came across your agency on the news following a huge rescue and shift in the hero rankings. katsuki was proud of you, he missed you, dialled up your agency to tell you himself and for some reason you found yourself clinging onto his every word not knowing that he felt the same.

you couldn’t forget about him, your golden boy and his golden smile that made heat spread through all four chambers of your heart and blood rush through your ears to the point where you were dizzy. bakugou was your day and he was your night, each of you taking turns returning from patrolling shifts that ran late for two semi-pro heroes like you — practically running into one another’s arms.

in another universe, it would still be that way for the both of you — but katsuki was bad for you, and you inevitably worse for him. even if you’d found new soil to settle your roots in, you secretly hoped that bakugou would come find you in every single timeline, every single world either of you existed in.

maybe that’s why you kept in touch despite the dates you went on to get over him. maybe that’s why emails turned to texts and texts turned to phone calls that centred around reminiscing the past — the songs that you shared and the plans that you made. together.

“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” bakugou grunts absentmindedly, the gruffness of his voice evened out by the static on his end of the phone. from the corner of your eye, you watch on the screen as he slips through your old kitchen easily — knowing where everything is, knowing that he used to pin you up against those counters, knowing that he used to corner you while making coffee and...

you shake your head, popping it into view so that the blonde can see you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “he’s not my boyfriend… just a friend from work.” you still have no idea why you lie to bakugou like that, actively pretending that your dating life isn’t flourishing. you tell yourself that it has nothing to do with the fact that you still want him. even though it never works out when you lead each other back into bed whenever you get the chance. “what are you making?” you ask, to distract yourself.

“he likes you though.” katsuki returns from the fridge and steps into frame to show you the pack of tofu you know that he likes to cook with. you could have probably found it in your local convenience store with your eyes closed at this point. but you didn’t want him to know that you still remembered all of the little things about him. his likes, dislikes, hopes and dreams. “s’that tofu recipe fuyumi gave me back in high school. the one that makes ya—“

“the one that makes me shit my guts out, yeah. thanks for the reminder, bakugou.” you huff, glaring at the phone and wander into your own kitchen, subconsciously. probably to feel a little closer to your ex. “he doesn’t like me. how would you even know that?”

“hah? bakugou? what happened to katsuki?”

“don’t change the subject.”

the swell of bakugou’s lush lips press into a thin line and you can just about make out his pout as you set the phone down to make yourself a fucking drink because you really can’t do this. you hate that you still seek him out in your darkest hours, when you’re alone in this city and it feels like the world is slowly turning against you.

you’d turned off your television hours ago to avoid hearing the news. deleted the social media apps off your phone, too. called bakugou to fill the silence of your home with something soft, familiar like the deep depths of his voice. he provides a distraction that the chaos in your brain recognises, watching katsuki cook in that same old flat you rented right after going pro soothes the tensions in your body.

his tatted arm with the sleeve flexes as he skilfully wields the sharpest knife from the set you gifted him on his twenty first. his crystallised ruby eyes squint and his nose scrunches in that adorable way as he reads the cooking instructions on the tofu even though you know that bakugou knows how to prepare it off by heart.

all of these little things about katsuki make you feel at ease even though you’re worlds apart and taking your lives into different directions.

“what happened today wasn’t your fault,” his timbre voice was over the line, grasping at the straws of your attention. you hadn’t realised you’d been zoning out when katsuki snaps his fingers at you. “quit that. ‘m talkin’ to you.”

“don’t snap at me, i’m not your dog.”

katsuki looks like he’s about to make a comment, but refrains when you scowl at him over the FaceTime call. “yeah but you weren’t listening to me, i know why you called me. saw it on the fuckin’ news, but i wanted you to hear from the resident fuck up that this’ll all blow over. the media is just shit.”

even through bakugou’s brashness he still helps you lick at your wounds like you’re still his. “i hope so,” you sigh quietly and pick up your phone so that you can get a closer look at his expression, concern etched into his features. “being a pro hero decking a fan in the face doesn’t exactly instil confidence.”

“he was a creep who’s been stalkin’ you for months. he fuckin’ deserved it. if you hadn’t,—“

“dynamight would’ve, my hero.” even though your tone is sarcastic, bakugou can tell that you’re thankful, that you mean it. he never liked that you were always one to suffer quietly, let the world walk all over you as if you weren’t worth standing tall and being proud of yourself. in some ways, the blonde wanted to be your hero — not the world’s. he wanted to stick up for you where you couldn’t even if he was defending you from yourself.

you hated him for it, he loved you through it. perhaps that’s why your relationship was always falling from grace.

bakugou knows that you’re struggling to keep it all together, lock up all your troubles and throwing away the key with the hopes of never seeing them again. he knows that you carry that weight and that you’ll collapse if there isn’t someone to help you bear the burden.

so he tentatively reaches out, metaphorically crosses that line you’d drawn after ending things, because you’re in need. “yanno, if you need me, i’m right here.”

it’s like his words have snapped you back into reality, and you shoot him a look over the call. “katsuki, you shouldn’t say that.”

“why not?” he quips — you almost miss it over the sound of his food sizzling as he begins to cook.

“we’re not together anymore… we’re broken up. it’s weird.”

“it’s not weird to look out for friends.” bakugou snarls gruffly, though he’s all bite and no bark — mostly embarrassed by your rejection. “you think just ‘cause ‘m not callin’ you mine and giving you head every night anymore, i don’t wanna be here for you?” but of course he still finds a way to make the conversation go lewd, to fluster you. “i told you that wouldn’t change. broken up or not...what? what’s with that face. don’t make that face, sweetness.”

a hand comes up to mindlessly touch at your face and brush over your lips, you don’t even realise that you're pouting.

“katsuki i’m serious.” you say, whining like a child.

“and so am i.” your ex mumbles right back and you can see his tongue running over his teeth from behind his plump lips — just barely holding back a cocky smirk.

“you’ll only make this harder.”

“we’ve never been easy.”

“we’re supposed to be moving on from each other.”

“you’re the one who called me, sweetness.”

“that doesn’t mean—“

“you miss me.” bakugou has always been brutally honest but that doesn’t mean you’re prepared for him to hit you with the truth. it’s like a punch to the gut that makes the world start spinning and your heart stop beating. you do miss him, you always will — he’s all you’ve ever known even if it’s been years since you last embraced his love. what you have now has teetered on the blurred line of friendship and love, it’s far from normalcy. but tonight you feel like letting yourself fall a little harder, return to your old ways. “s’okay. i miss you too.”

static echoes between your phones during the call, breaking the pocket of silence yourself and katsuki find yourself basking in.

“you mean it?” you question the blonde tenderly. the world has been so tough on you lately, you’re not sure if you could handle bakugou breaking your heart again. or you breaking his. “you’re not just…playing with me like you used to.”

“i’m being serious, sweetness.” you can tell that he means it, genuinity etched into his voice as it reverberates through your kitchen. “i’m by your side through everythin’, thick ‘n thin just like i promised.”

“yeah well so am i.” you mock his little quip from earlier and it makes him smile — brightly, the corners of his lips just touching his ears and the red in his eyes shimmering with a familiar affection you truly have missed so much. promises were easily broken, but bakugou’s made good on every one that he’s ever made for you. including this. “katsuki…”

he tests the waters, dipping into your old routine with an air of hope about things. “yeah, baby?”

“will you come see me?” you bleat, picking up the phone as if it’ll bring you any closer to him. “i need you.”

“if you need me, i’ll be there.” bakugou whispers without missing another beat.

he doesn’t care what he has to do, what either of you have been through — you called because you needed him, because the world had put you on your knees and you were losing yourself in the mess of it all.

katsuki bakugou books the next flight out to see you, intending to keep his promise to you.

no matter what, for you, he’ll always be right here.

2K notes · View notes