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#table sipping some tea/eating sweets)
andromedasummer · 1 year
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me 🤝 the person at the cafe counter 🤝 the person behind me = auditory processing disorder
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sukunas-wife · 4 months
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“Lord Sukuna!” A man screamed before immediately bowing before him, Sukuna walking in his true form didn’t bother to look down. You walked behind him looking straight ahead holding Yuji’s hand. Yuji was smiling bright holding a sparkler that hadn’t been lit, you didn’t miss the smile and women who looked up at you with kind eyes and the kids who peaked at Yuji giggling as he waved his chubby hand sparkler shaking around and they waved back.
Treated like Royalty out of fear of The King of Curses, Uraume continued walking behind you with your Lady in waiting. Stopping when Sukuna had finally situated himself on the Platform reserved. It over looked the area, the festival to commemorate the ending of the year. You slowly sat beside Sukuna when he motioned you over with a look. Yuji sat to your left quickly changing to squish himself between you and his dad. Both you and Sukuna shifted over to make room for him as he started rambling about all the lanterns and games, asking if he could go. You looked at Sukuna, he seemed unsure before Uraume suggested it might not be a bad Idea, “Lord Sukuna, Surly no one would want to cause a massacre on the day of the coming new years.”
Sukuna looked at you and you looked at your son, Yuji was trained on his dads face with a pout and those big pleading eyes, Sukuna turned away with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll be here, come back when you’ve had your fun.” Yuji’s quick smile turned into a pout “daddy’s not coming?”
Sukuna felt the tug on his robes, he refused to look knowing he’d gave if he saw his soon looking up at him with teary eyes, but also couldn’t stand to look like a spineless fool for playing those pointless games.
“Cmon baby,” you picked up Yuji kissing his round cheek, “Daddy’s busy,” you stood carrying him with you, “He’ll come later when HE HAS TIME.” You emphasized the words looked past Yuji at Sukuna, nodding your head to Yuji who hugged your neck resting his head on your shoulder pouting. You mouthed to Sukuna “HE WANTS TO BE WITH YOU” Sukuna looked away, you rolled your eyes and nodded at Uraume, their faint smile hinted they understood as they gave a slight nod, your two ladies in waiting quickly followed you when you started your walk with Yuji. Making it to the stalls looking down at Yuji he had a pout as he looked straight ahead, squeezing his hand he looked up at you and you smiled, “you said you wanted to try some of the foods let’s get you some okay?” His eyes shining when he looked up at you with a smile, “Yeah!”
Asking your ladies in waiting to get a place ready you went around with Yuji ordering a few things from different stalls. Yuji sat down beside you swinging his feet, peeking on the table at all the snacks the Ladies in waiting were laying out. “It looks funny.” Was all Yuji said as he picked up fried squid on a stick, brushing his hair back you kissed his forehead, “It does look funny but you should try it.”
Yuji quickly bit into the squid and seeing his face you stuck your hand in front of him just as he spit out the squid, “..ɴᴏ…” you tried not to laugh at Yuji while you let him sip your tea. Your lady in waiting wiping your hand clean as you helping Yuji go through Daifuku, Taoyaki, Mochi, Taiyaki, Dorayaki, dango and Manjū.
“Aw my poor baby.” You cood hugging him while he sat in your lap, he laid back against you whining tummy round with the sweets he was eating. Softly laughing at how his head fell to the side looking at the dango he weakly lifted, the Sakura flavor half gone, the plain white one had a small nibble, the green one had teeth marks in it where he bit into it but didn’t like it. “‘m full mommy.” You squeezed him and he huffed wiggling around, “wanna play a game.” You let him slide down your lap as you started to get up. The ladies in waiting packing up the untouched food.
You followed Yuji adoring the way he waddled, he wouldn’t be your little boy forever, so you’d have to cherish it while you could.
Watching Yuji play goldfish scooping was the highlight of your night. He squatted there persisting he could win because he wanted to win a goldfish. After his 5th turn he looked up at you with teary eyes and a wobbly lip, you knelt hugging him and he sniffled, “wan a golfish for daddy..” you heart braking you nodded, “Let me try okay?” He looked up at you and nodded. You did your best and managed to meet this crooked booths rules and Yuji was able to pick a good fish to take home. He chose a black gold fish because “is the only one!”
Letting him walk around carrying the bag proudly you tried a few more games until it came to an archery target booth. Where he persisted he could make it, once again it took five tries. And he hadn’t made a single target. It was upsetting to see Yuji fail so many times, so you stood Yuji on the booth’s table top and stood him in front of you, you had never tried one of these but it was worth trying if your little boy wouldn’t be upset. You tried to guide his hands but the “kids” bow was entirely to tough for a child. Still you let him pull back the bow and tried to help him aim before you release you watched as the target was struck but an all to familiar flame. “Daddy!!” Yuji cheered turning around in your arms, looking for his dad. There stood Sukuna amongst the separated crowd, the booth vendor seemed frightened at the sight of your husband when he took the bow from Yuji, just like you low life useless humans, trying to justify yourselves and present yourself self righteous when your able to look a woman or child in the eye and lie to them for your own profit. If this hand been any other woman or child I wouldn’t have even looked in your direction,” he stretched the bow as it caught flames from his flame arrow, “But treating my wife and my son like low life scum is something else.” His snarl and low voice had the vendor shivering, “L-lord Sukuna! Forgive me if i had known-“ the man was shot dead and you didn’t let Yuji turn to look, “Now everyone knows.” Sukuna declared looked around, the entire crowd in agreement and fear in silence.
You let Yuji free when he jumped into his dad’s chest, Sukuna catching him with one arm moving him onto his broad shoulders, “Dad! I won you gold fish!” Sukuna got closer to the stand ripping down the tiger Plushie he knew Yuji wanted. He may not be openly affectionate always but he did understand and know how his son thought. Yuji hugging his dad’s neck when he took the plushie, and you showed Sukuna the black Gold Fish, Sukuna looked amused carrying the gold fish on the same side Yuji sat. He motioned you to his side with his free hand, you followed quietly listening to your son and husband idly chat about what Yuji had down the past 2 hours.
Finally getting back to the platform where Sukuna sat, you noticed a bit of blood shed not far, you blinked and looked at Sukuna who eyed you and shook his head no. Taking the sign you held silence and sat beside him, before laying Yuji across your lap, he whined and crawled over to Sukuna, sitting himself on his dads leg leaning his back against his dads propped leg looking to the sky, he was ready to see the lights he heard you talk about.
Talking quietly with Sukuna you watched as he rested his large hand on Yuji’s round tummy before resting a hand your side pulling you closer closing the space. You smiled resting your head on his shoulder looking up at him, he turned to look down at you. The fire works started and Yuji’s oo’ed and aah’ed talking about the colors and how loud they were. You smiled kissing his forehead. Before turning to Sukuna, “Another Year with my husband and our Son.”
He had a small smile, pulling you closer so he could kiss you, his hand moved down to your waist. Just as he kissed you he pulled away with a hearty laugh, “a new year with my wife and OUR children.” You looked confused before you understood “RYOMEN!” In disbelief you looked at your own stomach, “how?!”
He leaned back on one arm, “Oh I’m sure you don’t need to be reminded how or when,” the smug look on his face caused your face to heat up. You looked down at Yuji as if he were gonna save you from his dad, only for him to be sleeping and snoring softly laid out in his dad’s lap.
You smiled shaking your head while Sukuna laughed to himself holding you firm against him kissing the top of your head, “Happy New Years.” You mumbled before kissing his cheek.
———-
It’s a bit rushed but i wanted something for new years 🥹 Happy New Years everyone!
Tag List!
@sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @domainofmarie @satorisgirl
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etherealyoungk · 2 months
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new beginnings - jeon wonwoo
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summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.
pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader
themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort
warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats
wordcount: 2.1 k
a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute
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you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.
you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.
"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.
"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.
but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.
wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.
it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.
"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.
"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.
you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.
you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.
that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.
you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.
you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.
you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.
sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.
you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.
"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.
"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.
you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.
he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.
"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.
"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.
"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.
"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.
"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.
you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.
"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.
you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.
"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.
"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.
"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.
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-bonus scene-
you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.
you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.
"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.
just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is
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phasecornnuts · 1 month
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Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that
Please & thanks ❤️
Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3
Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice
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It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 
The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.
That is, if it weren’t human meat. 
Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.
“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”
Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,
��I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”
He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”
“No! Her eyes are much too large!”
Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 
You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”
For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 
Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 
You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”
“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”
“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 
“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”
It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 
“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased
“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.
You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”
He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 
“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 
That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”
 “Pardon?”
“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”
“I hardly see how it matters now.” 
Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 
He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.
You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 
“How did you meet them?”
“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.
“Tch, how common. The trolley.”
You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 
Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”
The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 
“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.
“I like my alone time.”
 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”
“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”
She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 
For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”
“Alastor, may I come in?”
A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”
“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 
You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”
An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”
Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 
“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 
Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.
“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 
“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 
Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 
You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 
He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.
“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 
“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 
“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 
Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 
“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!
“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 
You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 
“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.
“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”
A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.
Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 
“Have me, how?” You teased.
“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred
You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.
“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 
Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 
Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”
The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 
You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.
Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 
Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 
“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.
The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 
“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 
Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.
“Let me show you.”
Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.
You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 
“Al,” You breathed
“What is it?”
“Get on your back.” 
And so he did. 
Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 
“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.
“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.
“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.
Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 
The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 
“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 
Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 
Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 
“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 
“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 
A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 
“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”
You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.
517 notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
Note
So an idea I have for James Vowels, is her telling him they’re expecting a baby while at a race and Logan overhearing and being so excited for his F1 parents to become actual parents 🥹
A/N: Stopppp this makes me melt cause James just had his real own baby and I just know that man is an amazing father
"Morning," You walk around, fingers tracing over James's shoulders as you take your place in front of him. You two had your signature table when you two eat whenever you two traveled with the team.
If they couldn't find James, they just had to look at the little table in the corner, where the sun was constantly there and warm, not hot, but that soft warm that had your eyes closing, wanting to nap there, but now, James was eating his sausage, eggs, and some toast.
"Morning, my darling," James smiles and you warm hearing those words and sit down across from him. Quickly one of the sweet girls runs up to you and offers you some food. You can't help but pale a little bit at the food and shake your head no. James quickly sits his fork down and puts his newspaper down as well and wipes his mouth.
"Darling, is something wrong? I noticed you reacted like that to my steak at dinner, do you have a small stomach bug?" You giggle and mumble back, "Yeah, some kind of stomach bug," James sighs and smiles gently at the girl.
"Can I get some ginger tea for Y/n?" "Of course, Mr. Vowles." The girl runs off as you take small deep breaths trying to control the curling in your stomach at the moment. James watches you, as you smile and accept your tea and take a slow sip. The color seems to come back to you a little bit and he smiles.
"So, how long have you had the stomach bug? You should've told me you've been sick," James's voice is soft, but you feel the slight curl of sternness he gives Alex and Logan. "Not long, but it'll be here for about 9 or 10 months," You smile into your tea while James bristles "What kind of stomach bug stays for 9 to 10-" He stops fluffing out his newspaper as his eyes grow wide.
Giggling you cover your mouth as James looks up at you with shiny eyes. "Really?" He drops the newspaper and grabs your hand, bringing it up and kissing the inside of your wrist then your ring. "Are you 100% positive?" You nod your head and reach into your pocket and pull out the sonogram with the small little blurb currently in you.
James picks it up with shaky hands and stares at it. "I love you," He whispers to the picture before looking up at you. You two can't help but break out into a laugh and hug each other. "Woah, weird picture." You giggle hearing that American accent of Logan as he quickly grabs the photo.
"Who's having a baby?" Logan steals a piece of sausage from James's plate as James turns around and snatches the picture giving him the most Dad glare every. "Oh...oh...OH! Oh my god, Mrs. Vowles, that's awesome." He whispers and bends down and hugs you gently. "Thank you, Logan," "Logan, leave." "James," You smack your husband on his shoulder, but Logan just laughs and hugs James.
"Nah, it's okay, he wants some alone time. I get it, you two will be amazing parents, I'm great practice anyways." James chuckles and pats the young american on his back as he watches Logan walk off.
"He really is great practice." James mumbles which has you bending over laughing.
734 notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 2 months
Text
ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ
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ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ
pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang
genre: historical au, smut
summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.
w.c: 4k
warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting
a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx
Now Playing:
ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ
0:01 ❍─────── 4:28
Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%
ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears. 
Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt. 
“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?” 
“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.” 
Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?” 
You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.” 
Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?” 
You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…” 
“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp.  “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?” 
Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands. 
“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?” 
You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?” 
“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box. 
You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.” 
Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup. 
All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes. 
He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…” 
“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?” 
“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N…Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.
Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?” 
When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”  
“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.
You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?” 
“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried. 
“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…” 
Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 
“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you. 
“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core. 
 “You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs. 
Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?” 
You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs. 
Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?” 
He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly. 
You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…” 
Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…” 
You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.” 
Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….” 
This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience. 
“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…” 
Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.
“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth. 
“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders. 
“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”  
You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure. 
Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin. 
The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.” 
This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…” 
The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. 
“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away. 
“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling. 
“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?” 
Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders. 
“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis. 
It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes. 
“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”  
Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise. 
All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?” 
Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!” 
Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…” 
“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night. 
“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself. 
Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?” 
Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”
You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark. 
Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.” 
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle. 
Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.” 
“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”
Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”
Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”
Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?” 
You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
Text
𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.
Summary: . . . Under a raging storm, your difficult pregnancy comes to an end. And so might you. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.
a/n: sorry I have to post this in parts, Wayne's World ended up being over 16k, so I split it up in three. part one's word count is 5.3k. this was a real labor of love and i hope you love baby wayne as much as i do. and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈
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“Do you have a queen of hearts?” “Go fish.” You grumbled as Wayne reached forward, lifting–but making sure not to catch a look of the other side–a card from the deck to hand you. Your frown deepened when it wasn’t a pair for any of the cards you already had. “Nuts,” you mumbled, eyes darting to all the pairs Wayne had matched up on the small living room table, then down to the four pairs you had placed over your bulging stomach. It was risky of you to keep them there so late in your pregnancy considering how active your baby was but you didn’t feel like reaching too far for them, regardless of the fact that his kicks had sent them sliding down your sides twice now.
You’d been playing card games with Wayne for the past hour and a half, the raging storm having knocked out the power for the entire park. Eddie was with your friends, no doubt trapped at the pizza place Lucas’ parents had booked to celebrate his birthday. His actual birthday had been a couple of days prior but the Hellfire session that would have celebrated it had been canceled; you weren’t feeling too good and Eddie had stayed faithfully by your side. You hadn’t been feeling all that great when you’d woken up today, either. You’d forced Eddie to go, refusing to let Lucas down again even though you knew he’d understand. He was a sweetheart. So, Eddie had reluctantly gone, taking Penny with him.
The storm had come out of nowhere, you’d woken to a lovely day but you wouldn’t know it from how dark the sky had grown; the sun having been blocked by heavy rain clouds. 
Despite practically living at his girlfriend’s, just a couple of trailers down, Wayne had rushed over to make sure you were okay and to keep you company. You’d been watching an Indiana Jones movie and talking to Wayne about the apartments you and Eddie were looking at when the power went out but Wayne–always practical and level headed–pulled out some candles you’d accrued and a deck of cards he had remembered he stashed in one of the kitchen drawers to keep you amused.
You’d lost just about every game. Clearly, Wayne wasn’t going to let you win just because you were pregnant like Eddie did.
“This ain’t even one of them bettin’ games. How’re you still losin’?” Wayne chuckled, taking a sip of the tea (powdered, of course) you’d served him. 
  “Just my luck, I guess.” Wayne was referring to the game of Poker you’d played earlier. Unfortunately, you didn’t know how to play. While he taught you a little along the way, you’d still obviously lost and you were positive you retained absolutely no knowledge regarding the game.
Sensing your frustration, Wayne leaned forward from his place on the recliner he’d dragged to the otherside of the small table and placed his cards down, settling back into the chair with his old man creaky noises that you’d grown comfortable with him enough to tease him about (and always made up for with a sweet kiss to his head).
  “What say you an’ I just talk, hm?”
That was fine with you. You gathered the cards on your baby bump, tossing them onto the table alongside his, “Eddie won’t let me name the baby after him.”
“Really?” Wayne asked, eyebrows furrowed in a brief moment of confusion. He’d expected his eccentric nephew to want to leave behind some sort of legacy, nothing better than a child.
  “He’s playing devil’s advocate, shooting down every name I come up with but never giving his input, I’m starting to think we’ll have to just put names in a cup and pick one after I have him.” You slumped further into the couch, pouting through your exhaustion.
  “Now that sounds like ‘im,” Wayne scoffed, raising the mug to his lips once more before he really took in your appearance. 
  You looked beyond exhausted, skin dull, dark circles around your eyes and you lacked the spark always attached to your personality. You didn’t just look miserable, you looked sick.
  The mug was placed back on the table as he regarded you with concern, “You alright, darlin’? Don’t look so good.”
  You gave him a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach your eyes, hands settling to rest on your protruding tummy, “I’m okay, really, Wayne. I’m just very tired. I’ve had high blood pressure for the last couple of months, so the doctor says I’m considered high risk.”
  You had a doctor’s appointment earlier this week—with another one scheduled for tomorrow afternoon—and she’d also told you to do your best to relax, not to move around a lot and not worry too much about it, or it could get worse, so you added, “I just have to take it easy. Being tired just comes with it.”
  Wayne didn’t think it was right, if you were taking it easy, you shouldn’t have been so exhausted. Tired, he could understand but you looked beyond that.
  “Why don’t we get you into bed?”
  You nodded, agreeing only because you wanted to let him get back to Maude. Wayne moved around the table, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up. It was pitiful, your stomach wasn’t even that big but you were significantly weaker this pregnancy compared to when you’d been pregnant with Penny. 
  You slipped your hands into his, groaning as he pulled you up.
  “Lil’ man’s got you making old man noises, too,” He joked, referring to the grunts he’d make when he stood up with creaking bones for which you’d tease him.
  You laughed, small but genuine as you placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, “Alright, alright. You’re not wrong but I’ll remember this.”
  Wayne chuckled at your response, hand on your shoulder ready to guide you to your bedroom. He had no intentions of leaving the trailer, planning on camping out on the couch or the pullout that was still tucked into the corner until Eddie returned.
  You’d just managed to get your back to pop in the most satisfying of ways when you felt a bit of pressure between your legs—like you really needed to pee—followed by a rush of liquid.
  “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut to keep the mortification of having just pissed yourself in front of your father-in-law at bay, “I am so sorry, Wayne, I didn’t even know I had to… to…”
  You trailed off, staring down at the wet patch of carpet surrounding your feet. There was no noticeable urine smell, but what really concerned you was the red mixed into it, staining the fibers of the carpet.
  “Wayne…” Your voice was so small as you reached around you to hold your stomach, as if you could somehow protect your baby.
  Wayne saw it too, eyes wide and horrified when he’d realized your water had broken.
  “New plan: let’s get you to the hospital.” He tried to urge you forward but you wouldn’t budge, trembling in his hold.
  “I—I can’t,” you stated, voice hitching and laced with fear as you finally turned your head to look up at him. Wayne could see the terror in your eyes, the panic and the shine to them. Everything he was feeling inside, too, he just knew he had to keep it together for your sake. “I’m barely 30 weeks, he’s too early, he has to stay in there!”
  You were nearly hyperventilating, head pounding as horrible thoughts raced through your head. Your hands moved frantically over your belly, trying to feel a kick from your baby. When was the last time you felt him being active? Was he okay? Why was he being so still? Why did your water break so early and why was there blood in it? And what the hell was that loud pounding sound? It was your heartbeat.
  “Hey—‘member wha’ you told me earlier? ‘Bout what the doctor said? You gotta take it easy, right?” Wayne was panicking just as much as you but he knew he had to keep you calm, had to reassure you. 
  You swallowed hard, tears welling in your eyes as you nodded, following up with a watery confession, “Yeah. But I’m scared.”
  “Thas’ okay,” he stated, recalling a time he’d said the same thing to another scared mother-to-be just hours before Eddie had been born. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and they’re gon’ take real good care of you. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
  For once, Wayne Munson’s eyes were easy for you to read, you could see the sincerity of them, the certainty and despite the fear still coursing through you, you believed him. 
  Finally, you moved and Wayne sprang into action, asking you the whereabouts of your coat, if you’d had a hospital bag prepped—which thanks to Eddie’s paranoia, you did—before he’d actually carried you through the heavy rain, out to the car. You’d been surprised, hadn’t expected Wayne to be that strong since he was more so on the gangly side.
  He’d ensured you were buckled in, made a last run into the house to make sure the candles were out before the two of you were braving the storm.
  It was a rough drive; Wayne was speeding but it wasn’t enough, the pushback from the wind made it seem like he was going uphill, losing speed rather than gaining it. The windshield wipers on his truck were working overtime to clear the constant stream of water from his view.
  You were faring no better, feeling weaker and more fatigued by the minute. Despite the cold weather, your skin became coated in a layer of sweat, though you were by no means hot. You couldn’t even register your own body temperature, too out of it as your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. 
  “We’re almost there,” Wayne promised, glancing nervously at your slumping figure. He was scared out of his mind now that he knew you weren’t just sick. Wayne Munson was afraid you were dying before his eyes.
  You stirred just as he was a few turns away from the hospital, face scrunching into a frown as you whimpered. Wayne thought you may have been in pain, he was wrong. You were hit with an intense need to push and you did, once and hard.
  The dull thud of something hitting the floor mats was somehow louder to the two of you than the raging storm. Wayne glanced away from the road and inhaled sharply when he watched you look down at the unnaturally pale baby, the only color on his skin was that of some of your blood.
  You reached down and picked up the smaller than normal baby, cradling him to your chest as you stared at his face. It was all squished up, and his eyes were closed, lips turning blue. He wasn’t breathing. 
  You turned him over, belly down in your hold as you patted his back. As you grew more anxious and fearful, you pinched the bottom of his tiny, soft foot and while he didn’t cry, he finally moved in your hold, his back expanding with his breath. A sign of life.
  The relief you felt was short lasting, your fatigue returning full force as Wayne pulled up the emergency entrance. Two staff members ran to the truck, approaching as their rain ponchos danced wildly in the wind. 
  “Sir, are either of you injured?” One of them, a woman asked before peering into the passenger window. At the sight of you, clutching the baby still connected to you via umbilical cord, the door was yanked open and she bellowed for a gurney which her partner sprinted to collect. 
  Wayne didn’t bother moving his truck, it was towards the end of the entrance, anyways. He hurried out and followed as they loaded you and the baby onto the gurney, running alongside as they wheeled you in. 
  You were trying so hard to stay conscious, trying to ignore the sweet allure of closing your eyes for a few moments of rest. The doctors and nurses around you were all barking orders to each other with a couple trying to talk to you but you couldn’t focus enough to know what they were saying.
  Once Wayne saw what operating room they were carting you off to, he ran to the nearest desk, asked for use of the phone and phone book. Once he’d placed the call to the pizza place, relieved the lines were finally going through again, he’d had a staff member search for Eddie. It hadn’t been easy hurriedly explaining to him what happened, but judging by how quick Eddie had ended the call, it was only a matter of minutes before his nephew turned up.
  Then Wayne ran to the area he’d seen them take you too, hurriedly dressing in a gown, a cap and mask one of the staff had shoved into his arms. They were still prepping you when they finally allowed him in and you were no longer holding the baby. He was in the arms of a nurse, still connected to you with his umbilical cord. 
  “Would you like to cut it?” She hurriedly asked, offering him a pair of surgical scissors. Wayne figured he was a better option than a doctor severing your connection so he did as instructed. She immediately carried him away and out of the room in a rush.
  “Where’s she taking ‘im?” He asked, voice full of worry. 
  “Neonatal Intensive Care Unit,” He was informed by another nurse who was setting up a barrier over your lower half, “He was born preterm.” 
  Wayne was somewhat familiar with it; he remembers Penny had briefly been sent there when she’d been born and suspected to have jaundice. After a few hours of whatever treatment, she was returned to you and Eddie, having a not very severe case of it which had been treated effectively.
  Wayne thought the whole process would be faster, he’d seen people rushed into surgeries in the movies and it had been instant but it wasn’t like that. They were still running around, setting everything up and new people kept coming into the room. It took more than ten minutes, but they were doing their best to keep you stabilized. He was holding your hand the entire time, squeezing every once in a while so you’d squeeze back and he’d know you were okay.
  You weren’t very vocal, eyes half lidded as they pumped you full of drugs to try to counter your symptoms and numb you.
  “‘M gonna check to see if Eddie’s here, alright?” He waited for your response, a very weak and monotonous okay before he gave your hand a final squeeze and let a nurse know he’d be checking to see if the father had arrived.
  He’d made it out of the operating room doors and was hurrying down the hallway, just about to breach another pair of large doors when they swung open and he had to jump back to avoid being hit. 
  “LORD!” He shouted and Eddie cursed, muttering a quick apology.
  “Where is she?” He panted out, chest heaving, eyes wild and frantic. Eddie’s hair was in disarray from having run his hands through it so many times as he sped to the hospital. He looked like the personification of panic, a mess.
  “Through them doors,” Wayne pointed in the direction he’d come from before yanking some of the sanitation wear off a nearby rack. “Put these on ‘fore you go in there. Where’s Penny?”
  Eddie was hurriedly yanking the scrubs over his clothes, “She’s in the waiting room.” 
  He clutched Wayne’s shoulder, wanting to thank him but desperate to get to you before he made a run for the room Wayne had directed him to while Wayne hurried to the waiting room, expecting Penny to be in the care of a nurse.
  He breached the doors and stood shell shocked at the amount of people who jumped to attention, faces filled with varying degrees of worry, anguish and fear; it was all of your friends, familiar faces he’d seen in the trailer before at one point or another. Penny’s curly head was visible from the arms of a tall redhead, wearing glasses.
  It seemed the entire party occupying the pizza parlor had filled the hospital waiting room, concerned about your wellbeing. 
  The sight nearly brought Wayne to tears.
  You could make out the sound of various monitors beeping, eyes trying to focus on the ceiling above you but everything was so hazy. You no longer felt fatigued, couldn’t really feel anything. A nurse had tried to check in with you earlier, get your attention but you couldn’t even hold a conversation.
  You felt a hand slip into yours again, and you squeezed it, turning your head to look at Wayne. Only, it wasn’t Wayne looking back at you. Eddie’s piercing brown gaze was easy for you to make out through the haze, and you were even able to smile.
  “Eddie.” You spoke it so softly but Eddie was still relieved, lowering his mask so he could press a kiss to your head.
  “Hi, baby,” he croaked out, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he stroked the side of your face. 
  “Dad’s here,” one of the doctor’s greeted him. Eddie recognized her as your primary Obstetrician, Dr. Eisenerg, the same doctor you had all your appointments with and the same who had delivered Penny. “Would you like the rundown?”
  “Please.”
   “Pre-eclampsia, I suspected as much during our last appointment, the next step would have been Bed Rest starting with tomorrow’s appointment, but baby couldn’t wait that long, could he, mom?”
  Eddie watched as you slowly shook your head, smile on your face because you were happy he was with you.
  “He was born nine weeks early, out of the hospital so unfortunately I don’t know his stats at the moment, he’s being looked over and assessed as I speak. He’s in good hands. I’ll have more information about him for you as soon as we get mom settled. We’re performing a Cesarean section to get the placenta out, she’s much too weak to push it out on her own.”
  God, Eddie loved your doctor. He’d write rock ballads in her honor for knowing exactly what to say to calm his ass down. After that, Eddie focused on you, trying not to pay attention to what was going on behind the cover they’d put up.
  “You sure know how to scare the hell out of me, baby,” he mumbled, eyes crinkling as he smiled under the mask, caressing your pretty face again. He’d never felt more fear in his entire life than when Wayne had spoken to him over the phone, informing him you’d had the baby early and they were taking you into surgery.
  You smiled and Eddie chuckled at the doped up expression on your face. He hadn’t seen it on you in months. You had to be high as a kite. 
  “Sorry, Eddie.”
  “It’s okay.” He pulled his mask down to press a brief kiss to your lips which you happily returned. “After you’re out of here, I’ll go check on our little dude, okay?”
  You nodded, reassured by Eddie that everything would be alright. You trusted him. Trusted him to let him know something you hadn’t yet voiced.
  “I’m tired, Eddie.”
  You slurred it so low, Eddie hadn’t caught it. “What was that, sweetheart?” 
  You didn’t answer him, eyes fluttering shut as multiple monitors began to beep, one at a higher rate and one much slower than the rest.
  “She’s hemorrhaging,” Dr. Eisenberg informed her staff, and Eddie paled. He’d heard that in enough hospital movies and shows to know it wasn’t good. The relief he’d momentarily felt fled from his body, quickly replaced by dread.
  He watched the movement around him, people shouting medical terms he couldn’t understand. He made the mistake of peering around the cover to address your doctor, horrified at the amount of blood on her gloves and the sleeves of her gown.
  Was that all yours?
  “What’s happening?” He demanded, breath hitching around the last word. 
  She didn’t look up at him, asking one of the attendings to escort him out. 
  Eddie called your name, over and over again as he was pushed out of the room, fighting to keep you in his line of vision. Your face, too peaceful looking to be resting, was the last thing he saw before the doors shut in his face.
  He’d made it back to the waiting room on autopilot, collapsing into the free chair next to Wayne, who was now holding Penny. When he’d first walked in, it looked like everyone wanted to bombard him with questions, the look on his face must have stopped them.
  He sat in that uncomfortable hospital chair, gaze unfocused and watery as he stared at nothing, the image of you on the operating table, eyes shut and appearing lifeless replayed in his head over and over and over again, torturing him.
  He had no idea how long he was in a catatonic state, only forced out of it when he registered a firm grip on his shoulder, shaking him.
  Wayne had been trying to get his attention since the moment a doctor called for him near the entrance of the hallway.
  Eddie snapped up, catching sight of the small woman, lightning fast and nearly tripping over himself trying to reach her, desperate for any news on your status. You were going to be okay, right? You had to be.
  “Edward Munson?” She asked.
  Eddie nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to find his voice, his throat was dry, felt like it was made of sandpaper when he cleared his throat, “Y-yes.”
  “I’m Doctor Houseman, Cardiothoracic surgeon, your son is one of my patients.”
  Right away, Eddie felt a sense of dread ooze over him, thick, heavy and suffocating like tar.
  “Your son’s limbs, most of his organs and responses are developing well. Ten toes, ten fingers and he can hear fine. His sight is a little sensitive, but should improve rapidly as should his growth. We are, however, concerned about his heart.”
  Eddie was sure he’d left his heart in that room with you, yet he still felt something in him plummet.
  “He has what’s known as VSD: Ventricular Septal Defect. A hole in the wall of his heart. It’s one of the more common heart defects at birth, normally the hole can close up on its own, be treated with medications or, if necessary, surgery. Because of his premature birth and how weak his body still is, he may not respond well to the medication and the odds of him surviving a surgery are low.”
  He felt the bitter taste of bile rise in the back of his throat.
  “We’d like to keep him for an extended stay in the NICU, let the hole try to close on its own. It still may be too much for him, but it’s his best bet.”
  Eddie squeezed his eyes shut at the first hot sting of tears, desperately trying to hold it together.
  It appeared today would be the day Eddie Munson’s world was due to come to an end, he knew he must have looked pitiful; a red-eyed, pale, clammy, crying mess on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You were lying on some operating table, bleeding out and now his son’s heart could possibly stop on him. Eddie’s was broken. He was broken.
  He sniffled, inhaling deeply before he forced his eyes back open, tears immediately cascading down his cheeks as he nodded and agreed with her plan.
  Dr. Houseman regarded him with sympathetic eyes.
   “Mr. Munson, I don’t believe in miracles. I used to be a general surgeon,” she started, “And then one day, my longtime boyfriend took me out for a night on the town, dancing. He had a heart attack that night, I spent the four hours in that waiting room thinking he was going to die. I’m not religious, but I prayed and I prayed he wouldn’t die. He did. 
  “I switched my practice, to see if I could save others from the same fate. Some I did, some were simply beyond anyone’s reach. Then one day, they brought in a little girl. Tiny thing, frail, six years old, the size of a four year old and she’d had a heart attack. I was sure she wouldn’t make it, tried like hell to save her but sometimes the circumstances just don’t work out in our favor and her body shouldn’t have been strong enough. But it was. She pulled through and she survived. I don’t believe in miracles, Mr. Munson, but she did teach me to have more faith in my patients. The same faith they have in me. Have faith in your son.”
  Then she was gone, whirling out the doors she’d come from. Eddie stared at them, wondering if she was on her way to tend to his baby. It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t even gotten to live yet, wasn’t even a day old and he was fighting for his life.
  Eddie felt Wayne’s firm grip on his shoulder and he turned around, briefly staring into his sorrow filled eyes before he collapsed into his arms and sobbed, shaking with each one that wrecked through his body.
  Wayne held him like he did when he was younger, when Eddie had finally come out of his room and let Wayne comfort him over the bullying he’d faced and the nasty things the other children had said about him, about the family he came from.
  Eddie cried and he didn’t care his friends were most likely watching him, he couldn’t hold it together anymore. Not when there was a chance he could lose his son. Not when he could lose you.
  “I can’t do it on my own,” he sobbed out against Wayne’s shoulder. How was he supposed to care for Penny without you? His family wouldn’t be complete, it’d be fractured, it would be broken. And if—it made him sick to know it was only a possibility and not a certainty—he took his son home, how was he supposed to raise him without you? What would he tell them? His son would be too young to remember, but Penny would. She’d miss you so much, he’d miss you so much. “I can’t, Wayne! I need her! She can’t leave me, I need her!”
  The statement triggered a worrisome thought process, what if you did leave him? When was the last time he said he loved you? You knew it, right? You had to know, he told you all the time but no matter how hard he tried to recall it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said he loved you and it made him sob harder.
  Wayne’s arms tightened around him, eyes clenching shut at the agony his boy was feeling. He was hurting too, he’d been in this position before. He’d lost her. Wayne couldn’t let Eddie believe he’d lose you, too. Couldn’t let him think he’d ever have to raise his family alone.
  “She ain’t going nowhere,” he forced out, throat thick with emotion. He was trying to believe it just as much as he hoped Eddie would. “It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be okay. They both are.”
  Wayne held him until Eddie stopped shaking and his sobs had subsided. Even then, he hadn’t wanted to let him go, wanted to protect him. But Eddie had his own kid to protect.
  He wiped at his face, taking a couple of shaky breaths. He wasn't okay, far from, but his broken heart was aching for someone he knew would manage to hold the pieces together without even trying, simply by existing. 
  He gave Wayne a brief, grateful smile that didn’t meet his eyes and walked over to Barb, his daughter curled up in her arms. He obviously hadn’t told Penny what was going on, as far as she knew, they had just been going to the hospital because her baby brother had been born.
  Her excitement quickly turned to exhaustion while her dad had been in the delivery room with her mom and she’d stopped running around to sleep in her grandpa’s lap. She’d been knocked out while Eddie was catatonic and had evidently slept through his hysterics, having been passed back to Barb when Wayne got up to comfort Eddie.
  He was relieved she hadn’t seen him like that.
  It was selfish of him, but Eddie woke her up, pulling her out of Barb’s arms and into his own.
  She stirred, raising her head briefly to look at Eddie with sleep heavy eyes, squinting before she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Then, as if she remembered the reason for their hospital visit, she pulled away, an arm lazily resting over his shoulder.
  “Daddy?” She asked through a yawn, lips stretching into a plump ‘o’ before she smacked them together. 
  “Hi, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her crown and nuzzling his face into her curls, the pleasant smell of her sweet strawberry scented shampoo filling his nostrils. Her scent was comforting. 
  “Ganpa says the stoke came.”
  Stork. While Penny knew her baby brother was growing in her mommy’s belly, she also simultaneously believed a stork would be dropping him off, prompted by a number of childrens’ books and cartoons. 
  Eddie had tried asking her about her logic once and she’d made him feel thoroughly stupid for not understanding.
  “Yeah, it did.”
  Penny shook her head, something Eddie noticed she did when she was trying to wake up. You did the same thing, shaking your head whenever you were nodding off. 
  His heart clenched.
  “I see my baby brudder now?”
  For a moment, Eddie struggled to come up with a reply. He didn’t want to tell her the full truth, she was still just a baby herself. He didn’t want to lie to her, either, but he needed to protect her.
  “Soon, sweet pea.” 
  She seemed satisfied with that answer, curling up against his chest as he moved back to sit in the chair he’d been occupying before Dr. Houseman called on him. She quickly made herself comfy in his lap, little fingers pulling at the blue material of the scrub top he still wore.  
  “Know what, daddy?”
  Eddie hummed, stroking his hand through her soft curls, letting them wrap around his finger tips and twisting the ends. They were still short, not long or heavy enough to be weighed down so it still looked like she had the Annie hairdo. She was so adorable, it drove him crazy.
  “He looks like a ‘tato.”
  Eddie stilled, brows furrowing down at her in confusion. 
  “What?”
  “He looks like a potato,” she repeated, matter of factly, “Ganpa says.”
  Eddie’s eyes darted over to Wayne in the seat next to him. 
  “She wanted a description. You try comin’ up with somethin’.” Wayne had only gotten a brief look at the baby, he’d been almost unnaturally pale and covered in something that looked chalky and pasty. Reminded him of how potatoes look after being washed and air dried so it was the first thing that came to mind.
  Eddie highly doubted a potato was tucked into an incubator in the NICU.
  “I don’t think he looks like a potato, sweet pea.”
  “No,” Is all she said, resting her head against his chest and effectively smashing the curls he’d been messing with there. She wasn’t agreeing with him and Eddie knew it. She meant no, you’re wrong.
  He snorted, blinking harshly at how sore his swollen eyelids were. 
  “Alright, potato he is.”
  Penny didn’t know it and maybe in the future Eddie would tell her, she was getting him through this. His anxiety and panic had not left him, but it was easier to focus on a little light when it was curled up in his lap, telling him all about her baby brother she had yet to meet, with certainty they soon would.
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simon-sehs · 1 month
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due (18+) pt 3
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tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, mind games, theft, insults, sexual tension, possessive!simon, jealous!simon, manipulative!reader, injury mention, dirty talk, virginity kink, grinding, dry humping, come marking, oral sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie
His name was Carter.
The two of you talked once or twice, struck up a decent conversation here and there, but didn’t really see each other much outside of the mess hall during meals. You at first thought of calling up your ex, Billy, but that was too obvious, and also: Fuck. That.
No, Carter would do nicely.
He was pretty: black hair, green eyes, a sweet, warm smile.
Part of you knew you should feel bad for using him to get back at Ghost, but you took solace in the fact that he was only one part of your plan. After all, it was your gracious Lieutenant who taught you not to put all your eggs in one basket when it came to strategies.
You found yourself back in the mess hall, only a couple hours later. Your sleep had been small and futile, but you found yourself refreshed regardless. Whether it was from the excitement of your budding plan, or the action you had received last night, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter.
You stood near the door, and glanced around, your eyes settling on a familiar figure. Bingo. You began walking over to him, not bothering to look for Ghost. You couldn’t, you had to be subtle, or this entire operation would crumble before it even left the ground.
Carter glanced up as you sat down across from him with a warm smile. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”
He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yeah, help yourself, Sergeant.”
You sat down with your cup of coffee, your eyes glancing at his tray of food briefly before meeting his gaze. “Been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Ah, I’m fine. Nothing really worth talking about. Dislocated my knee a week ago. You?”
Time to put on a show.
You let your face fall slightly. “I, uh… I’ve been better. Just… stressed, about stuff.”
Carter nodded sympathetically. “Understandable. I’m here to talk if needed, my husband says I’m great at listening and giving advice.”
You paused. Husband? Oh.
You quickly composed yourself. “Really? How long have you two been together? If you… don’t mind sharing…”
Carter’s face lit up. “Ah, six years, now. High school sweethearts, actually. Married for three. What about you?”
This threw a slight wrench in your plans, but this could work.
“Uhh, well… it’s… complicated…”
“Mm, well, I hope it gets un-complicated for you.”
Meanwhile, across the room…
Ghost watched the two of you have a conversation. A fascinating conversation, by the looks of it. To say he was jealous was an understatement. Hell, you hadn’t even looked at him once this whole morning. Did you even know he was there? Or was this some sort of petty revenge for what he said last night?
He took a sip of his tea, wondering if he should risk getting closer to listen to the two of you. He ultimately decided against it, content with watching…
For now.
You smiled at Carter. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” You took a drink of coffee. “I… have a weird request, actually. Feel free to say no.”
“Weird, eh? Now I got to hear it, Sarge.”
“I, uh, could really use a hug…”
Carter’s eyebrows raised. “Hmm, well, I wasn’t really expecting that, but I don’t see why not.” He paused. “You’re, uh… not going to slap a note on my back that says ‘kick me’ or anything, right?”
You let out a laugh. A good, genuine laugh that reached Ghost’s ears.
“No, no… I promise. Just a hug.”
Carter nodded and stood from his seat. Then, so did you. The both of you met halfway around the table, and embraced each other. Ghost set his mug down on his table with a little more force than intended, gaze burning a hole through the both of you.
You pulled back with a smile, and lightly squeezed Carter’s shoulder.
Ghost grit his teeth.
“Thank you, Carter. I feel a lot better, already…” You said.
“No problem.”
The both of you sat back down, and talked a bit more. You eventually excused yourself after finishing your cup of coffee.
It was time for the next order of business.
You entered an empty training room and got everything set up. When it came to throwing knives, you were alright. You could use a bit of polishing when it came to that skill, and you were thankful that that would come into play, today. Now, you just had to wait for him to show up.
There was no way in hell Ghost wouldn’t follow you in after your performance with Carter…
You picked up one of the knives and twirled it in your fingers. To get this to work, you’d have to appear just a little more incompetent than usual. You got into an… adequate stance and lazily threw the knife at the wall target. It missed the entire thing.
Alright, let’s not appear that incompetent…
You picked up another knife as you heard the door open behind you. You didn’t bother to turn and look… you didn’t need to. You adjusted your wrist and threw. Outermost circle.
“Want some help?”
You tensed slightly as Ghost’s breath hit your neck. “No, I’m good.”
He chuckled. “You sure?”
You watched as he slowly picked up three knives, pretending to examine them in his hands. He turned towards the target, and threw one. Bullseye. Another. Bullseye. Then the last. Bullseye.
You glanced away, trying to mentally beat your growing arousal to a pulp. Focus.
He turned to face you once more, eyes crinkling as he smirked beneath the mask.
You rolled your eyes. “Well, you obviously don’t need the practice, and I don’t need your help. You can go, now.” You said, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to leave.
“Nah. Think I’ll stick around, evaluate your progress.”
Excellent…
You sighed and got into position once more. The incorrect stance. You knew better, of course, but he didn’t know that. His scrutinizing gaze along your form burned into your skin, but you proceeded to throw the knife. Outermost circle.
You picked up another, ignoring Ghost all the while. Stance. Throw… Outermost circle. You were surprised how quickly it took for him to fold.
“Your stance is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
He huffed. “You daft? The way you’re standing, you’ll never hit the center if your stance is fucked.”
He got closer to you, putting his hands on your hips and adjusting you. His feet kicked at yours, prodding them into a different position. You bit your cheeks in an effort to not grin. Time for the next part.
Your movements were subtle, so agonizingly minuscule, as he focused on fixing your form. You slowly leaned into his touch, your back melting into his chest, and he was none the wiser.
“There. Now throw.”
You did, the knife hitting a ring closer to the center. You carefully fidgeted in his grasp, undoing his work.
Ghost groaned. “What are you doin’? You just undid your stance.”
His movements were a bit rougher as he manhandled you back into place. The perfect excuse to… accidentally… bump back against his groin. He froze, and you could hear his breath hitch. But only for a second, and then he continued his task as if nothing happened.
He jostled you forward a bit, making you ‘lose’ your balance slightly and bump back against him once more.
“Dammit, stop that.” He hissed.
“Me? You’re the one throwing me around!”
“Don’t be dramatic and stay still like a good girl.”
“Why, so you can keep ‘accidentally rubbing’ up against me?” You say, turning it around on him.
He scoffed and leaned forward, his breath hot on your ear. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Having me rutt against you like a damn dog...”
“You are a damn dog.”
“Mmm, is that so?” He lowered his head and started kissing your neck, pulling you flush against him. “Then you won’t mind if I do…”
You let out a shaky breath, trying not to smile with giddy glee. “There’s a camera in here, too.”
“No shit.” He grabbed your hips and started circling them along his—now prominent—bulge.
He then braced one of his arms along your ribs, under your breasts, to keep you locked against him, while his lips continued leaving wet kisses on your throat.
You let him grind against you for a bit, his fingers tightening around your skin as he got closer to his peak, his grunts and groans increasing. You suppressed an evil grin before sighing. “Alright, I’m getting bored.”
He huffed and puffed. “Sh-shut up, I’m getting close…”
“That’s too bad…” You pulled away, and out of his tight grip.
For a second, the intensity of his glare had you internally sweating, and wondering if he was going to attempt to continue, but he just clenched his jaw.
And stared, of course.
“Fuckin’ tease…”
“Getting déjà vu, Lieutenant? I know I am…” You walked over to the wall targets and began pulling the knives out.
“Don’t pull that, with me. I made you see stars twice last night.”
You ignored him and proceeded to put the knives away. Ghost kept glaring, sulking over his lost orgasm.
You sighed and faced him. “Well, if you want to make yourself useful, I guess we could spar.”
Ghost rolled his eyes. “I’m still recovering from your fuckup.”
“Hm, but you seemed fine manhandling me last night…”
He stared at you, weighing the options in his head. “Fine. I only need one good arm to beat your ass, anyway. But if you deliberately harm my shoulder, you will regret it.”
“Give it a rest, LT, I’m not going to hit your precious shoulder…” You crossed your arms and watched as he unzipped his jacket, and threw it at you.
You barely caught it in time and narrowed your eyes at him, trying to ignore the sight of his beefy arms in the—wow, black again, what a surprise—t-shirt he wore. You noticed the bandage on his lower forearm was now gone. You sighed and walked towards the nearest bench.
You were not expecting him to just hand you his jacket outright, but you didn’t care. If anything, he just saved you a step. How kind of him…
Your hand deftly slipped into the left pocket. The security camera wouldn’t catch this angle. Even if it did, it would be too late for Ghost to even think to check the footage later. No, by then, things would have played out as hoped. They had to.
Your fingers curled around the lighter, and you slowly pulled it out, switching it to a pocket on your leggings; the ones you specifically picked out for today. Why? Pockets with zippers. Can’t risk his precious lighter falling out during the sparring session, after all…
And then you tossed his jacket onto the bench, before joining him on the mat.
His arms were crossed. “You didn’t have to go on a damn journey to set it down, the floor would have been fine.”
“Then why throw it at me?” You raised an eyebrow.
He smirked. “Because it’s funny.”
“Right…”
“Ready to get your ass kicked?”
You sighed inwardly. You really weren’t, to be honest, but the proposition to spar was only an excuse to get him out of his damn jacket.
“Don’t get cocky, now. You’re at a disadvantage, remember?”
But it didn’t matter, he was right…
He only needed one good arm.
•••
Ding!
Your gaze left the page of your book and landed on the lit-up screen beside your thigh. You set the book in your lap and picked up the phone. One new message from ‘Ghostie’.
You opened it.
Ghostie: Hey. Have you seen my lighter?
You smirked to yourself. Damn, already? You weren’t expecting him to reach out to you about his missing lighter so soon. If anything, you thought he wouldn’t catch on to your possible involvement until one or two more days after.
You: found a lighter in the hallway earlier. what color is it?
Ghostie: Hey that’s mine. Bring it to my office ASAP.
You: tell me the color! i’m not giving anything until you confirm.
Ghostie: Red.
You: fine you can have it back
You: but in the morning
You: i’m in jamas and busy reading.
Ghostie: Bloody hell. Fine, I’ll stop by.
You chuckled to yourself and set the phone down, returning to your book. But the words blurred together as you excitedly waited for him to stop by. There was no guarantee that things would escalate tonight, but all the buildup, the planning… it would at least be another stepping stone.
A minute later, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” You called out.
The door opened, and there he was. He shut the door behind him and walked over to you.
“Alright, give.” He said holding out his hand.
You rolled your eyes. “Hello to you, too, Lieutenant.”
You leaned over the bed, grabbing your leggings off of the floor and unzipping the pocket, pulling the lighter out and handing it to him. “You should keep better track of your stuff, LT.”
“Quiet.” He pocketed the lighter, watching as you dropped your pants to the floor and laid back down on your bed, book still in your lap.
Then it dawned on him, just how intimate this situation… felt. Standing in the sanctity of your room, you dressed in your pajama shirt and shorts, the lamp lighting low and warm, and the candle on the nightstand filling the room with the sweet scent of vanilla.
His gaze lingered on your bare legs, up your body, to your midriff. Your shirt was slightly hiked up your stomach, but you didn’t seem to mind.
You cleared your throat. “Did you need something else?”
Was that a trick question? He needed you. Needed to rip those stupid little shorts off, stuff your virgin hole and make you come over, and over, and—
“No. What are you reading?”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “A book.”
He huffed and looked away. “Not leaving until you tell me.”
“…Fine… It’s a romance novel: ‘Reverie’ by Stephanie Fenderson.”
“Yeah? What’s it about?” He found himself intrigued.
“Two nobles from rival houses start a forbidden love affair. Think… ‘Romeo and Juliet’, but raunchier… and with actual adults, of course.”
“Hmm. How raunchy?”
Perfect.
You fake a scoff. “I’m not telling you.”
“I’ll find out eventually. Rather hear it from your pretty lips.”
You meet his gaze. “Well… there’s this… one scene… They’re at the same fancy ball, and sneak off to a room to… have fun.”
You sit up on the bed, crossing your legs as you set the book on your nightstand. Ghost can’t help but notice the small opening of the shorts along your inner thigh, and his teeth clenched. It was just the tiniest of peeks, but there was no mistaking the sight of black, lacy panties. He felt his cock twitch.
“Specifics.” He says.
“Hmph. Sure. So, they’re getting busy, having a great time. Pretty standard, vanilla. But then they almost get caught. The man, Fredrick, hides underneath the woman, Constance’s, gown. It’s one of those… hoop skirt dresses, or whatever…”
You scratch your chin. “The guy who interrupted them is this important dude who wants to marry her. Fredrick gets jealous of the guy’s attempts to court her, so… he starts eating her out while she tries to be polite to her suitor, and he’s none the wiser.”
Despite the fact that the two of were intimate the night before, you still found yourself blushing as you recounted the smutty novel.
He carefully walked over to your bed and sat beside you, laying his elbows on his thighs in an effort to conceal his growing boner. “Interesting… maybe I’ll have to borrow it from you, sometime.”
“Mm, I don’t think so. Your big hands would likely ruin the spine.”
He leaned in closer. “These big hands took good care of your pussy last night. Or did you forget?”
Heat pooled in your abdomen. “I didn’t. But it doesn’t matter in the long run, I have plans beyond you…”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
You looked at him incredulously. “Huh. It sounds like you’re the one forgetting about last night. Do you not remember what I said about finding someone else?”
His blood ran cold, and his jaw clenched. “You… you wouldn’t. I told you, your virginity is mi—“
You tilted your head. “You also said to forget about the favor. That you forgive me.”
He breathed deeply. “I was being sarcastic. I didn’t expect you to be that dense…”
“Oh, well. I guess you’ll be getting sloppy seconds, Mr. ‘I’m a Patient Man’.”
The seconds ticked by in silence. You watched in his brown eyes as he went through a journey of emotions. It was so, so, satisfying. But this wasn’t even the end, or the best part, for that matter.
“Now, are you going to leave, Lieutenant? I really should get some sleep…”
You watched in real time as the last of his resolve snapped, and he seemed to come to terms with something. “…No.”
Yes…
You leaned in. “No?”
“You want a dick that badly? Fine, you greedy girl, I’ll give you one…” He seethed.
And there it is… I win.
He continued. “You’re not going to anyone else. I’m gonna fuck the very notion of that out of your daft head.”
You shook your head. “You’re not thinking clearly. You shouldn’t feel pressured into this—“
“Oh, shut up. You? Pressure me?” He laughed bitterly. “I’ve wanted this for months, and I’m not letting some stupid motherfucker get his hands on you first.”
Time for the pièce de résistance…
You gingerly placed a hand on his warm, toned thigh. “Simon…” You say softly, so sweetly. “Are you sure?”
You gasped as he pushed you back onto your bed, your head hitting the pillow.
He crawled on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored. He stared down at you, his gaze making you feel like you were trapped beneath a predator ready to make their kill. You waited for something, anything, but then realized…
He was calming himself down.
It would be easy—so easy—to just take you without mercy, without care, but he knew better. As much as you were getting on his fucking nerves, he was adamant on making sure your first time was great. No, more than great. Indescribable.
He finally chuckled, lifting his balaclava to reveal his mouth and nose.
“What’s so funny?” You asked.
“Have you ever been kissed? That sleazebag, Billy, did he ever kiss you?”
You sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately.”
“A shame. But I’m here now, we can pretend I’m your first kiss…”
“That’s not how it—mmh!”
His lips smothered yours, and you started blushing; the realization that this man had ate you out the night before, but never even gave you a proper kiss, washing over you. You probably would have laughed, if your mouth wasn’t busy.
He was a good kisser, his lips rough but plump. You felt disappointment, realizing that all the times you kissed Billy, it was nothing like this. That boy had no idea what he was doing.
Not like Ghost, and you felt yourself getting soaked.
He moaned before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. “Now, are you sure you want this?”
“Ah, now you’re being considerate?”
“Of course I am, love. Want to hear you say it, out loud.”
“You know how I feel, but fine. I want you, Simon, I need you…” You grabbed his hand and slipped it through the leg of your shorts, his fingers grazing along your wet folds, making him moan.
You made a silent prayer, hoping that your lack of experience wouldn’t shine through too much as you prepped yourself for the ultimate challenge: dirty talk.
“Feel that?” You whispered. “All for you…”
So simple, so small. But you knew it would resonate with his infatuation towards you, and the jealousy you had carefully built up from that morning. You watched him breathe deeply.
“Yes… all mine…” He continued staring into your eyes, his dark and heavy. “No one can get you wet like me… not Billy. Not that dickhead in the mess hall. Not those filthy little books you read… Me.”
“Are you getting jealous over my reading materi—ah!”
He swiped his fingers around your entrance, gathering your wetness. “You ever taste yourself, love?”
You could feel a blush forming. “I, uh… sometimes…”
He chuckled. “No need to be embarrassed…”
He pulled his fingers out of your shorts, his other hand delicately moving your chin to part your lips. Then, his wet fingers entered your mouth, and you instinctively wrapped your lips around them, letting your tongue lick and taste them.
Like before—during your experimenting—the taste was pleasant, but not overwhelming. Nothing in particular came to mind when trying to compare it to other… flavors, other than… sweet? Maybe?
You snapped out of your daze as his fingers started moving, in and out of your mouth. They were now clean of you, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to take them out just yet. So, you continued to lick, to suck.
The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions, he was imagining something better than fingers in your warm mouth. He groaned and then took them out with a soft pop, his hands now moving to undo his jeans.
Oh, finally. Yes…
He took them off with ease, revealing basic white boxers. His shirt? Well…
Ghost must have forgotten about the state of his shoulder amidst his horniness, a hiss leaving his mouth as he attempted to lift the hem with his bad arm. You immediately sat up. “Let me…”
You expected him to push you back down, allow his stubbornness to take over…
But he didn’t.
He let you carefully begin to take the shirt off, being mindful of the bandage still present on his shoulder. You lifted it past his head, fingers clutching onto the warm fabric as you oggled his bare muscles. He grabbed the shirt from your hands and tossed it onto the floor.
“Like what you see?”
You ignored him, eye-fucking him without a sliver of shame. You grinned.
He laughed softly, gently lowering you back down, and crawling back up your body to look over you. “Oh, yeah. You do…”
You palmed him through his boxer shorts, earning a hiss and then a groan. You had wanted this since last night, knowing he had been touching himself while pleasuring you…
“Ahh, what are you doing, love?”
“Want to… uh… help you…”
He gingerly took your wrist in his hand. “Mm, next time. Yeah, next time, I’ll teach ya how to please a man properly. Me, I mean. It’s not like you’ll be sleepin’ with other men after this…”
“Is that so?” You smirked, your expression waning as he made you moan by grinding against your clothed pussy.
He ignored your bait. “Nnf, damn… I’m gonna treat you so well, sweetheart. That way, I’ll be able to punish you after for ruining my fun earlier.”
Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Heh, yeah? How?”
“Mmm… oh yeah… I think I’ll continue what I was doing earlier. Hump you like a toy, all over… You won’t be allowed to come at all.”
Your eyes widen. “What?”
“You heard me. Maybe I’ll let you finish after I’m spent, but that depends on how good you are, hmm?” He leaned in. “All the meanwhile, I’ll paint allll of you pretty in white…”
Holy shit. “Simon…” You whine.
“So needy, so fuckin’ desperate. I give you two orgasms last night and you’re already addicted. Be a good girl, and you’ll get what you want.”
You whimper and nod.
He grasped your hips and grinded you up and down his clothed bulge. “Fuck… yeah… feels better than before… soak through those shorts and my boxers, love, ruin them…”
“Unnnhh…” You lazily rutted against him, the friction feeling lovely but not enough. “Simon… I need more…”
“Poor girl, you achin’ down there?”
“Mhmm…”
He put a hand on your face, his large fingers caressing your cheek bones. “I’ll take good care of you, love. I promise.” He said softly, the weight of his words making your heart ache as well.
He slowly pulled back to take your shorts off, his grin widening as he got a proper look at your underwear. Pretty black lace, almost too small to properly cover your leaking cunt. He couldn’t help himself, gripping your hips and grinding against you once more.
He shivered. Your underwear had completely soaked through.
“Simon.” You whined once more.
He grunted in response, tentatively pulling back again to remove the lace. However, you didn’t crook your knees in time to help, making him rip the underwear in half.
“Shit, sorry, love. My bad...” He said sheepishly, and then held them up, raising an eyebrow at you. “But… seems like you won’t need them anymore. A good ‘lil keepsake for me…”
You huffed.
He didn’t spare a glance at your bare sex. Not yet. He dropped the ruined underwear. His fingers curled into your shirt and he started lifting it, his nails softly scratching along your skin. Then, he paused.
“Mm. No bra?”
“Not tonight, no. They can be uncomfortable to sleep in.” You said nonchalantly.
“Uncomfortable… hm… but you’ll wear panties that barely cover your cunt…”
Uhh…
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care or look more into it. He shook his head and continued taking the shirt off. “Not like I’m complaining, mind you. But I do want to see the matching bra, sometime. There’s no way you don’t have one.”
You smirked. “Alright, noted.”
He threw the shirt aside and leaned back to admire your naked form. “How lovely… better than I imagined…”
His hands grasped your breasts, three of his fingers still slightly cold and moist from being in your mouth. You shivered with a moan. “So pretty, so soft… can’t wait to deflower you.”
“Technically, after last night—“
“Oh, don’t go there. I don’t care about the technicalities of last night. You’ve never been dicked down, and that’s what I’m referring to. Now, be a good girl and shush…”
Ghost leaned back again, and finally pulled his boxers off. You couldn’t hold back the moan that left your mouth at the sight of his dick, leaking with pre-come. He leaned forward again, resting his member on your clit.
“See that, pretty girl?” He slowly stroked himself against your folds. “That’s what a cock looks like.”
You had to resist the urge to face palm yourself. “Jesus, Simon, I know what a dick looks like.”
“No, you don’t know what mine looks like. Get well acquainted, you’re gonna be seeing it a lot.” He paused and peered down once more. “Aha, damn, you’re soaking your bed, love. Pretty pussy is working so hard, preparing itself just for me…”
He pulled his lower body away and inserted a finger. You moaned, he groaned. He began pumping it in and out, making your pussy sing with your slickness.
“Shit, I think… think you’re wetter than last night. Good…”
You smirked at him. “Yeah, the book I was reading is pretty spicy…”
“Shut up, or I’m burnin’ the damn thing.” He took his finger out, and you began to regret your teasing.
Before you could beg and plead your case for more, he stuffed his face against your pussy and started lapping at it.
“Gahh, Simon, not again, I want you inside—“
“Quiet,” he growled, “I know what I’m doing. Ya need to be ready for me…”
You pouted but didn’t say anything more, only opening your mouth to moan softly as he licked and sucked. But then, his finger entered you once more, and he proceeded to stimulate you with both his hand and mouth.
Oh, this is new.
You clutched the bed sheets, trying to keep still and let him do his thing, lest he chastise you again like last night.
“Tell me when you’re close…” He breathed out, inserting another finger.
“O-okay… god, Simon, ohhh…”
“Mhmm…” He mumbled, still licking and fingering you.
You noticed his whole body moving in junction with his head and fingers, and you peered downward. You saw him dragging his weeping cock along your bedsheets, the sight making you whimper and clench around his fingers.
“Simon… I’m gonna come…”
“Mm, good girl. Thank you for telling me.” He stopped all movements and pulled away.
“H-hey! What are you doing?”
“What you did to me, earlier. Sucks, doesn’t it? But don’t worry, you’ll get to come…” He leaned in and started kissing your neck. “You smell so good… you always smell good… drives me fuckin’ crazy…”
“God, Simon, please, I want to come…”
Ghost licked along your neck. “Don’t worry, love, you will. I’ll let you come around my dick, how’s that?”
“Please…”
“Good girl… such a good girl…” He cooed.
He leaned back and adjusted his position, lining himself up at your weeping sex.
“Now, I want you to hold onto me. This might hurt, sweetheart…”
You did as he requested, and that’s when he started entering you.
You winced and bit your lip, the stretch feeling a bit more painful than you anticipated. Suck it up, you’ve taken bullets...
He slowly eased his way in, your hole trying to push him out, despite it having done so much prep beforehand to welcome him with open arms. He leaned in closer and caressed a cheek.
“Relax, love. Loosen those muscles, breathe deeply… I got you.” He whispered.
His words helped alone, making you sigh with relief as you steered focus towards the new wave of arousal washing over your body. Something about the way he spoke softly just never failed to do wonders for you.
But then you realized he wasn’t moving anymore. You looked down in confusion and saw him already all the way in, to the hilt. Oh.
He also glanced down, admiring the joining of your bodies as he held your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders. “Fuck, look at that… what a pretty sight. Feels even better inside…”
Then, he started moving. His thrusts were slow and gentle, caring. But the sensation was still deliciously overwhelming; you could feel his cock rubbing against your soft, virgin walls, tight and pulsing around him.
“God, you don’t… understand how hard it is… to hold myself back… right now…” He grit out.
“D-don’t hold back, Simon…”
He grunted. “Don’t be saying shit like that. You’ll get it in the future, but for now, I’m keeping it simple, sweetheart.”
He held onto your thighs and squeezed hard, grounding himself as he maintained a sweet and slow pace, one that gradually increased in speed, if only by a minuscule difference. His eyes raked up and down your body, soaking in every reaction to his ministrations.
“Talk to me, lovie. Tell me how it feels…”
“Uuuuhhhn, feels… good…” You croaked out.
“Good? Just good?”
You groaned. “It feels amazing, don’t stop…”
“That right? Tell me, you still think you would have done well with someone else for your first time?”
“Uffff, mmm…”
He chuckled. “Can’t even think properly, can you? So cock-drunk…”
Then he stopped and pulled out.
“Sim—“
“On your stomach.”
You blushed, but rushed to do as he said, the side of your face hitting the pillow. He grabbed your hips and tilted them upwards, his knee pushing one of your legs open aside. “There we go…” You couldn’t see much from this angle, but the excitement in his voice was palpable.
He slowly lowered himself on top of you, his chest connecting with your back. He wasn’t squishing you, not completely, but enough to make his presence felt. Then, he entered you once more, stuffing his face into your neck.
“Mmmh… make you feel all of me… every inch of my skin… make sure you memorize it. It’s okay if you forget, though, I’ll happily remind you…” He started moving, his pace still casual and languid.
“Can’t… can’t wait to ruin you… turn you into a fuckin’ degenerate… heh, unless… you already are, and we just don’t know it, yet…”
He adjusted one of his legs, the angle of his hips making him reach deeper, and you whimper. “Ohh, god, oh…”
Ghost then sped up, reaching a faster rhythm that would satisfy you, but wouldn’t be too much.
You whimpered. “G-gonna…”
“Gonna come, baby? Good… milk my cock, wanna feel that cunt thank me for taking your virginity…”
“Jesus…” You groaned loudly, your orgasm hitting you hard; your walls clamping around him like a vice, pulsating like a heartbeat.
“Fuuuuck…” He snarled into your ear, his fist digging into your pillow, beside your head. “Want me to fill you up?”
“Y-yes, please, yes…”
“‘Attagirl. Need to make sure this pussy learns who it belongs to…”
His movements slowed but got harder, and then eventually, halted, as he reached his climax. He groaned into your neck, filling you up with his seed. “Good… girl… take it… all…”
He stayed on top of you for a minute, your muscles starting to ache. “Simon… you’re squishing me…”
“Ah. Sorry…” He rolled off of you, laying beside you and pulling you into his arms. “You alright, love?”
You started blushing, still trying to catch your breath. “I-I’m fine. It was good… really good…” You smiled.
You expected a snarky, arrogant comment like usual, but he just smiled in response. “Good. I’m glad.”
He used a hand to caress your body, slowly trailing down to your pussy. His fingers delved into your hole, coating them in his come before pulling them out and rubbing it along your slit. “Yeah… this is all mine…”
He then licked his fingers and pulled you closer with a content grunt. “Mm. You should have listened to me. I always get what I want, and I told you this would happen.”
You laughed softly, leaning into him. “Oh, Simon… you think this was all a coincidence? Did you really think… you’re the only one who can fight dirty?” You cooed.
He stared at you, eyes wide, the realization that, perhaps—he had been thinking with his dick too much—dawning on him. You weren’t sure how he’d react, but mentally prepared for the possibility that he’d be pissed for getting beaten at his own game.
But instead… he grinned.
“You… That’s my fuckin’ girl… all mine...”
[part one] [part two] [part three]
taglist: @corvusmorte @oceanicexolorer @icouldntthinkofanythingclever
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hoenoredone · 8 months
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A TYPICAL DATE
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tags: sfw, fluff, headcanons, enstablished relationship characters: gojo, geto, nanami, naoya, inumaki, yuuta, noritoshi
GOJO SATORU
cat café
he's a cat dad and you're never going to convince otherwise. because of his job it's quite difficult for him to keep a pet in the house, he feels too bad leaving it all alone for days at the time (do not worry, the ball of fluff would have an automatic feeder and a self cleaning litter). so he gets his fix at a cat café. it's perfect, really: he can pet all the cats, and you can eat and drink to your heart's content while seeing him all happy and giddy.
GETO SUGURU
dinner and a movie
he's a wanted simple man, he's perfectly content setting the table while you stir fry the meat he had left in the fridge to marinate for the whole day. he'd fry up some popcorn after dinner and drizzle them in butter and salt. he loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, especially if the movie turns out to be boring. he lets you fall asleep and does his best not to wake you at the end of the film. when nanako and mimiko make fun of him the day after for carrying you to the bed bridal style, he can only smile and ruffle their hair.
NANAMI KENTO
petit pâtisserie
he has a sweet tooth, sorry i don't make the rules. he doesn't like sickeningly sweet pastries, but a french press coffee and a slice of opéra cake are perfectly within his taste. he watches you eat an english scone with strawberry-rhubarb jam and clotted cream and sip on your darjeeling tea as he listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind. he notices some crumbs on your lower lip and tries to discretely let you know, but you're too absorbed in your own world to notice. so he gently wipes them away for you and notices a slight blush dusting your cheeks.
ZEN'IN NAOYA
michlin star restaurant
it's really not a date, it's more of an interview. he doesn't date just to date, he dates to marry. he needs to be the perfect heir for the zen'in clan, he needs a wife and a child. so he takes you to an incredibly expensive restaurant and grills you with questions. at the start it's not the most pleasant experience, but as the date goes on (if you answer his questions correctly) he loosens up and lets you speak freely. he doesn't even realize it, but he feels like he has a lot to prove, so once he decides that it's worth it he orderes his favorite wine (coincidentally the most expensive one) and shoos the waiter away to pour you a glass himself.
INUMAKI TOGE
arcade
please he loves the pinball machines, literally spends hours on them. you take turns at the claw machines to try and win each other a plushie (that riceball looks just like him? how?) and lose almost three thousand yen. he watches you play a shooter game and gets playfully annoyed when you don't listen to his tips. almost spills his coke all over one of the machines when you finally win your first game of the night. he offers you karaage to celebrate and you almost choke on the sauce when he imitates the panicked face you had during the game.
OKKOTSU YUUTA
picnic at the dog park
can he pet that dog? can he please pet that dog?? you bring the food and a table cloth, and he brings plates, cutlery, drinks and two different brands of dog treats. you could swear he spends more time looking at the dogs run around and telling you all about the specific breed than actually eating. a big fluffy maremmano runs towards him and almost knocks the picnic table over, but yuuta is ready: he grabs a duck skin treat from his pocket and hurls it to the other side of the park, but not before having pet the dog's head and having called him a good boy.
KAMO NORITOSHI
japanese tea house
he enjoys the quiet of the tea house's garden because he's not a kamo there, just noritoshi. he used to be partial to sencha tea but you insisted on ordering something different every time, and he's glad you did because he's a creature of habit, without you he wouldn't have discovered he actually prefers hojicha tea over anything else. he lets you order whatever you want, from dango to daifuku, even dorayaki once, but warabimochi remains his favorite.
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leonw4nter · 1 month
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Silver Screen
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RE2R!Leon x F!Reader modern AU (The 300 followers special!)
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You walk into the room, an iPad opened to the latest installment of the fanfiction series you’ve been following for quite some time carried in the nook of your arm and salted caramel boba tea in the other. Setting the sugary drink on the table beside your spot on the couch, you temporarily put your iPad down to get into a comfortable position in the small pillow and blanket nest you’ve made for yourself. With a pleased sigh and an excited grin, you take a long sip of the beverage before finally picking the iPad up and have the coziest time of your life.
You were having a solid few hours of the coziest time of your life until you heard some soft sniffling coming from somewhere in the living room along with the faint pads of feet against the wooden floorboards. You look up, your eyes finally focused on something else other than pixels that formed words on a bright screen. There, you see him: your roommate Leon whose face is in his hands, ears red, and what seems to be muffled crying– no, sobbing as he walks around in circles.
Concerned for your friend and roommate, you get up from your place and walk up to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You place a hand on his broad back, patting and gently stroking it back and forth. Leon finally lifts his head up, wiping off his tears with the sleeve of his dark green sweatshirt.
“This author was not playing around, ended up crying.” is all he said which prompted you to try and hold back a giggle. So he’s been reading fics too, you think to yourself.
“Can I read it?” you ask, to which he nods and fishes his phone out from the pocket of his plaid pajama pants.
“Lemme find it real quick,” he responds. He’s still sniffling, the waterline of his eyes occasionally brimming with a new batch of salty tears before he blinks them away. He finally finds the fic he’s been reading, handing you his phone while he walks over to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water to stop hiccuping.
“You sure you’re fine?” you call out before you read.
“Yeah! Fic was just really… it was just something!”
You start reading the fic, your eyes trailing on the words on the screen. The words seemed familiar so you guessed that Leon had stumbled on a fic you’ve read before. Wrong! It was your fic, a fic you finished updating around last night. No wonder it was too familiar. You stared at the phone in your hand with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, a child caught with a jar of sweets in her hands when she shouldn’t have been eating sugary things. Your gaze drifted to Leon in the kitchen, who was still somehow trying to control his breathing while chugging down water like his life depended on it. He didn’t seem to notice the sudden drain of color in your face so you continue to scroll down, checking if he left any likes or reblogs or comments on your work. Another bombshell dropped: he’s the top reader of your work and the one that’s been keyboard smashing in the comments, along with the… soulful, emotional reblogs. His account is the one that’s religiously kept up with whatever you post, whether it be new fics or just random vents. BiohazardBard, the sweet account who comments nice stuff like “Don’t worry about us, take some time for yourself! U got this!!” and reblogs with tags like “UEIXGOFQWV CRIED SO HARD U DONT EVEN KNOW IEWBRXXR”on angst fanfiction is your roommate and also your crush.
You stand there in silence, mouth ajar as you continue to stare blankly into his phone, unable to process the fact that he’s aware of your online persona but he doesn’t know that it’s you. You exit the app and turn his phone off, walking over to him in the kitchen and give him pats to his shoulder to really make sure that he’s okay. If he’s calmed down then you’re not– internally, that is.
“That fic uh… it truly was something,” you sympathetically say. “Guessed that the part where uh- she leaves him was the one that got the water works going.”
“Oh um nope, it’s the part where things were slowly spiraling down. Got anxious for them then just full-on bawled when shit hit the fan,” he explains with a sheepish smile. “This fic is just bars, I love it so much actually– Might print a copy of this to take to work when I can’t be on my phone.”
To have your fics reblogged and your account be compared to the unburned version of the Library of Alexandria is one thing but to hear your number one dedicated reader say that to your face? After a breakdown? Nothing will ever top that and he doesn’t even know he just ugly-cried in front of the author he keeps up with.
“Imagine someone coming up to the front desk to be like: “hi someone stole my bike” or something and they call you over and their resident cop is just red as hell and all slobbery,” you joke.
“Shut up! I’ll try not to cry, I’m going to build immunity,” he half-jokes before taking another gulp of water.
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You lay awake at night, staring into the dark nothingness of your room. Your feelings are all convoluted– joy, fear, embarrassment, amusement, excitement– and it’s hard to pinpoint what is ruling over you. Finding out that the man whom you’ve been hinting your feelings for is obsessed with your writing? In complete adoration with the products of your mind and skill? Hopefully he doesn’t suss out on your more romantic and sappy fics, inspired by real-life events you experienced with him (with more romantic and glittery bits). It doesn’t take even a minute to decide that you’ll be keeping this secret from him in order to not make anything weird between you two. Leon already seemed embarrassed after having been caught sobbing like that by a mere set of pixels on screen so you decided that this would be best for both of you. Unable to sleep due to the combined combination of boba tea and adrenaline, you sit up and reach for your phone because reading a fic or two before bed doesn’t hurt, right?
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It’s been a few days after the little “incident” and Leon’s been more open with showing you some fics he enjoys, occasionally giving his own reviews and recommendations for you. He’s still the same guy that keyboards smashes on your comments and on his reblogs, which makes you giggle since you know who’s been sending you that. He finally came home from a long day of work only to do some more work outside of office hours, catching up on reports that some absent cops left behind and was handed over to him. Making himself a cup of coffee, he stretches his arms and hands before typing away on his dingy laptop for the next 3 hours. A few hours later, you hear some giggling coming from him so you bring your head up and spot his head once again buried in his hand, ears red but from giggling this time. He swings his legs, accidentally nudging the leg of a chair so he yelps a bit, which tugs a little chuckle from you. His ears pick up on the jolly noise coming from you, his face glowing when he sees you smile (or are you just seeing things?). He asks for you to come over to him and points at something on the screen of his laptop.
“Thought you wanted uninterrupted time for work,” you ask.
“I’m on a break, I think I deserve it,” he confidently says. “Anyways, take a look at this. Starting from here until here.”
You expected that you’d see another fic of yours but it was from another account’s instead, which disappointed you a slight bit but not that you minded too much. You finished reading the lines, the corners of your lips tugged skyward with a subtle splash of baby pink tinting your cheeks.
“Damn, that’s sweet,” you comment. “Gosh, I want what they have.”
“Me too. Like, hey God I’m still here ya know! I’ve seen what you’ve done for others!” Leon adds on.
Um, hey Leon! I’m literally right here! Do you need glasses? I’m right beside you!
Since you two were having a nice moment sharing fics and fic lines, you decided to show Leon some lines from fics you love.
“Take a look at this one,” you say as you hand him your iPad. “His description of her had me clawing at walls and biting my fist.”
Leon takes the gadget from your hands with care and places them beside his laptop, reading the lines. He reads in silence and it appears that he’s going over the line again and again.
“Who wrote this?” he asks.
“Uh, scottfree.”
“I don’t think I’m getting out of this scot-free,” Leon jokes. “Pun intended.”
“And why is that…?”
“Because I wrote that.”
You look at him in confusion, two neurons in your brain making a very, very, very slow connection in this moment.
“You’re scottfree?! And also BiohazardBard?!,” you exclaim. So he’s also scottfree, the writer whose lines you’ve screenshotted takes up about a third of all images on your phone. Amazing.
“How do you know I’m BiohazardBard?!?!,” he exclaims even louder as he gets up from his seat.
“Because um– the fic you cried over some days ago is mine! And I saw your account name and profile and I found out that you’re one of my loyal readers!”
He looks like he’s ready to wither away into nothing, become dust and probably get sucked in a vacuum cleaner.
“God that’s embarrassing,” he quietly mumbles. “Tell me: is that fic the first fic you’ve read from me? My other account, I mean– the one where I post fics.”
“Scottfree? Um, no… I’ve read like– quite a lot, actually.”
He stares blankly at you, unsure on how to absorb the information dumped on him. He’s only got a half-asleep half of a brain cell now since the rest of them were allocated on getting those papers done with the other half of the remaining brain cell, which he thinks is now gone.
“While we’re at this, um. You must know that the descriptions I write for the love interests are usually what I wished I could say to you or how I’d describe you. When he’s telling her how magical it is to be around her presence? I’ve daydreamed one too many times about really saying that you,” he quietly confides in you. “If I want to write another story, I hope I could write it alongside you.”
They really weren’t playing with slow-burn romance where both of them are too shy to confess their feelings. It’s happening to me right now! I’m in the confession part of the story!
“I guess it’s a writer thing for writers to include parts of someone they like in their works because I did the same thing for my works, actually. If I wanna come up with a real sweet line, I just think about you and I wish that I’d say these to you. Maybe I’ll wish that whatever I write the love interest to say, I’ll hear you say them to me too and uh… manifesting is real I guess, I dunno,” you awkwardly laugh. “Guess the feeling’s mutual, huh.”
“Yeah. Wow, this is… this is amazing. Real amazing,” Leon softly says.
“Mhm.”
“So…”
“So… what now…?”
“I guess this makes as mutuals in terms of accounts and feelings," the blond grins.
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NOTE - Once again, thank you to the lovely 310 people who decided to follow me and keep up with whatever I post :)) I first came up with this while I was washing my cats' bowls and I intended for it to be a drabble but I just decided to make it a fic in the end. Still working on other reqs rn so expect some more posts in the coming days <33 If your usernames are somehow the same as the usernames that I made up for this fic then I didn't mean that and it's just a coincidence 😭🙏 Also y'all gotta hear me out on Francis Mosses from That's Not My Neighbor, he's cute :3 Judging from my mlist, I'm not sure if I love RE2R Leon hmm I'm not too sure 🤔 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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jsprnt · 2 months
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your husband loves taking care of you, especially when you're 35 weeks pregnant.
virgil van dijk x pregnant!reader
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original request: love your work, could you write a pregnant!reader and Virgil? X
A/N: thank you! this one was so fun to write <3
W/C: 1.640
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you shift into another position, again. The soft couch and cushions doing wonders for your back, but still, you couldn’t sleep in your favorite position. Just flat on your stomach, your swollen baby bump not even allowing you to sleep well at night, or take a nap in the quiet hours before dinner time. you felt like you were about to pop, but you still had five weeks to go before your estimated due date.
you had the gender reveal party, which consisted of your and virgil’s closest family members and friends. you both were having a babygirl, the nursery was already cutely designed with a pretty crib and dresser. the baby shower your friends surprised you with was thrown already a couple weeks ago, and not to forget the sweet babymoon virgil and you had gone on. the pretty islands in greece had been a beautiful sights to share with your husband.
the sound of a car parking in the driveway has you halting for a moment. your eyes drift over to the clock on your living room wall. it was past five in the evening already, which meant your husband had returned from training.
you slowly, but carefully get up from your position on the couch, sitting up instead. compression socks alleviating some of the swelling of your legs and feet, your eyes dart to the gray coffee table, full of- everything you could need when being half-immobile. tissues, multiple empty cups, a plate of lazily cut up pickles, a half eaten box of cookies-
“there’s my beautiful wife!” you suddenly hear, swollen, drowsy eyes looking towards your surprisingly very enthusiastic husband. his hands seemingly full of familiar takeout bags as he closes the front door to your home.
virgil’s high energy, even after his intensive training, manages to put a small smile on your face. you hear him take his coat off and wash his hands. so, you stand up, walking- no waddling towards him in the kitchen.
“hi, missed you..” you mumble, feeling him wrap his arm around your back, softly rubbing up and down your sides. you sigh in delight, leaning against his tall and muscular frame, resting your head on his chest. soft sweater grazing your sensitive skin.
“me too, baby.” he mutters, kissing your forehead tenderly.
“I got your favorite takeout. you’re hungry, right?” he asks, thumb rubbing your hips.
your eyes light up, and you nod eagerly. your pregnancy cravings were all over the place. from wanting your usual takeout, to a weird obsession with pickles and chocolate, and the most difficult of all: an icy, crispy red bull. since it wasn’t pregnancy-safe, you definitely didn’t risk it, but your mouth just watered at the thought of taking a sip of the carbonated, sweet energy drink.
“then let’s eat some food. I’m starving...” he says, guiding you to the kitchen island. he’d switched out the bar stools, shortly after your second trimester had started, exchanging them for chairs with a backrest, just for your comfort and convenience.
you watch him grab the takeout, unpacking the dishes.
“you got me the vegetarian one right?” you ask, raising your brows. virgil turns, nodding as he transfers stir fry noodles into a dish and slides it in front of you.
ever since you got pregnant, you detested the smell of meat. virgil being the sweet man he is, did research with his own nutritionist to see how you could still get all the vitamins and nutrients you needed without having to eat meat.
“here baby, eat up.” he mutters, giving you a fork, before walking towards the fridge. he grabs two cans of sparkling iced tea, coming back to sit next to you as you both dig into your meal.
“how was training?” you mumble, chewing down your food, maybe a little too fast.
“good, we were in the gym the entire day- slow down baby, the food isn’t going anywhere..” he chuckles, reaching into the takeout bag and retrieving the napkins. wiping sauce off the corner of your mouth with one.
you both continue eating the delicious food, Virgil’s hand soothingly running down your back every now and then.
“I’m going to take a quick shower.” he says, cleaning off the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.
“can I join? can’t get my hair wet though..”
“sure baby, let’s go.” he quickly says, helping you off the chair and into the bathroom.
“my legs have been killing me..” you mutter, watching virgil take your compression socks off. you were glad you didn’t need them on your hands, though your fingers had gotten pretty swollen. prompting virgil to gift you a chain you could hang your wedding ring on, to wear as a necklace instead.
you allow him to guide you into the shower, his hand settling on the small of your back in support. virgil chuckles deeply as he watches your makeup melt off with the touch of the streaming warm water. he made sure to put on your shower cap beforehand.
“you wore makeup? where did you go today?” he asks, allowing you to reach up and take off his hair tie, dark curls falling to the side of his face.
“went for brunch with the girls. it was so good..” you answer, allowing virgil to run the soapy washcloth down your body, making sure to clean you up nicely. paying extra attention to scrub your legs, since you couldn’t reach down, you needed his help more often than not.
grabbing a fresh towel, he wraps you in it. allowing you to walk out of the bathroom and sit on your bed. waiting for him wash himself.
that’s what you loved about him, he always put you first. whether it was you eating first, getting dressed, falling asleep, or anything at this point in your pregnancy.
you quickly grab your undergarments and loungewear, going back to sit on your bed. towel wrapped snuggly against your body, as you take off your shower cap and wipe the extra moisture on the towel.
you look up to see virgil walk out of the bathroom, towel hanging on his hips. you lean back, admiring him, a small smirk forming on your lips.
“what?” he asks, smirk clearly on his face too as he walks up to you.
“oh, nothing, just admiring what’s mine..”
“really? let me admire what’s mine too then..”
he cups your face as you look up, his wet hair falling in front of his face as a single drop of water drips down onto your cheek. a low chuckle leaving his lips as he swipes it away with his thumb.
he helps you get dressed before the two of you get too distracted, not forgetting to rub bio-oil and lotion on your bump and body. the both of you snuggling up together on the couch. your head laying on his broad chest, tatted arm wrapped around your back.
You pause for a moment, feeling your daughter kick against your uterus. you feel virgil’s hand running against your clothed bump, you place your own hand next to his. feeling her kick was still the most out of body experience to the both you. you could’ve sworn you felt the outlines of her little feet as she kicked like didn’t want you to rest tonight.
“active today, isn’t she?” your husband asks, kissing your temple.
“just like her daddy..” you raise your bows, grinning. the consequences of having an athlete as your partner.
“she’ll definitely be as beautiful as her mommy..” he responds, causing your grin to grow into a bright smile.
“what do you want to watch, hm?” he asks, looking down at you, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
“love is blind, the new episode is out.”
he chuckles, his chest vibrating against your cheek as you watch him turn the tv on with the remote.
in the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t too keen on watching shows or movies like that, but the second there was some drama unfolding, he immediately got hooked and it became a thing you both did to wind down after busy days.
“wait- can you grab snacks?” you ask, looking up from his chest. you knew he couldn’t say no to you, because he looked like he had melted at the sight of your face already.
“your cravings are really going off the rails, aren’t they?” he asks, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly getting up.
“don’t see the problem!” you exclaim, looking over to see him open the kitchen cabinets and grab a bag of crisps and salty popcorn, transferring it into bowls before walking back over to you.
“here you go, for my hungry monster..” he teases, prompting you to roll your eyes playfully.
you both start watching the hour long episode, empty bowls on your lap by the end of it. though, you both don’t move from your spot on the couch, virgil’s hand soothing on your slightly aching, lower back.
“you okay?” he asks, your own hand resting on his bicep.
“back hurts a bit, baby’s getting heavy..” you mutter.
“I’m know, sorry love. do you need anything?” he asks, kissing your temple and rubbing your back more thoroughly. he had a tendency to ask what you wanted or needed, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
“just- can I ask you something?” you begin, holding back a grin. he’d done enough to make you feel comfortable already.
“yeah?”
“would you mind if I broke your fingers during delivery?” you chuckle, having a laugh. knowing he would probably let you squeeze the absolute life out of his hands.
“of course, during delivery you can squeeze and cuss me out all you want..” he smiles, brushing his thumb against your baby bump.
you did cuss him out, but breaking his fingers, almost…
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babushkatty · 4 months
Text
Tranquil SAGAU - Part 4
-> Part 1
-> Part 3
-> Part 5
Crepus, true to your initial assumptions of him being sunshine personified, very enthusiastically invited you over for tea once everything in the caravan was cleaned up, the wounded were attended to and the Knights of Favonius reluctantly went on their way.
And by tea, he meant dinner.
And by dinner, he meant a feast that could easily feed an army.
Truly, the Ragnvindr were rich beyond comprehension. Whatever the heart desired, it was at the table. Northern Apple Stew, Northern Smoked Chicken, Sweet Madame, Flaming Red Bolognese, Barbatos Ratatouille, Calla Lily Seafood Soup, Crem Stew, Cold Cut Platter, Satisfying Salad, Sticky Honey Roast -- all alongside many dishes you knew for a fact weren't in the game at all (there was something ravioli-adjacent, a plate of potatoes with seasonings, some dumplings, small snacks, sweet desserts and you even spied something that looked suspiciously like Meringue and was that Tofu? wasn't Tofu Liyuen?), with Apple Cider, Water, tea and a lot of fancy wine (couldn't do without wine at a winery, after all) to serve as drinks.
You had no idea how you were meant to eat so much, or how to even attempt to taste a little bit of everything without your stomach protesting. Did rich people train themselves into having a bottomless stomach so that they could eat what they were given without offending anyone?
"So, (Name)," Crepus began, fancily sipping at his fancy glass of fancy wine, "How come you and your... Friend, arrived at just the precise time to prevent any serious harm? Surely it wasn't a coincidence?"
He chuckled good-naturely as he twirled his wine in circles.
Look at Crepus, digging into the matter without sounding accusatory or condescending! In fact, he sounded eager. You could almost imagine the wagging tail and perked up ears.
Suddenly, you realized who exactly Kaeya took after in his habit of talking circles around people on a daily basis. Not entirely of course -- where Kaeya was smug and suave, Crepus was a giant fluffy friend that had you wrapped around its' paw, because how could you possibly say no to that face? You wouldn't hide anything from a friend, would you? You wouldn't, it was a friend after all, you were so comfortable around him for a reason, there was no need for suspicion and paranoia around sweet old Crepus!
You heard of people weaponizing stupidity, but weaponizing your gold-lab-like personality? That was a first and you clearly met a master of the craft.
"It's a coincidence. Dvalin took me flying every day for the past week. He sensed something off in the distance, so we went to check it out and, well... Ursa happened."
You shrug and sip at your Apple Cider.
Crepus did not look any less excited than before. If anything, he smiled wider and the imaginary tail you swore you saw picked up in speed -- contrasting greatly with Diluc who just sat in his chair silently, with his eyes burning a hole right through you.
A bit unnerving, but what could you do other than endure? Not like he was doing anything wrong, everyone did a little bit of unsettling staring every once in a while.
And besides, this wasn't the Diluc who would burn an Abyss Mage into unconsciousness just to burn them awake for information, this was a baby. A Diluc that wasn't hardened by the loss of his family, by the betrayal of his adopted brother turned Khaenri'ah spy, by the corruption of the Knights of Favonius he sincerely admired and by Snezhnaya kicking him while he was down. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve and now you got sad thinking about what would have happened had you (and Dvalin... Mostly Dvalin...) not been there to intervene.
Everything was not Daijoubu.
"Then what did you friend mean, when he said you could permamently put down Ursa?"
Crepus sounded so genuinely curious and excited, it was adorable. How was this grown ass man so cute? With that crime against humanity of a beard too? It was utter witchcraft!
For a moment, you considered lying about your situation. You considered outright saying you couldn't tell because of personal reasons. You considered following the role model of all fools, Nie Huaisang, and shaking your head out of the situation, repeatedly saying 'you didn't know, you didn't know, you really didn't know--!'
But then you realized the cat was partly out of the bag anyways (thanks Dvalin, you're as subtle as a brick to the face) and it would be just a waste of effort on your part.
"No idea. He's convinced I'm the All-Mother of Teyvat and the longer I am around, the stronger I'll get. Theoretically, it would mean I could do something about Ursa somewhere down the line, but that's if I'm the All-Mother at all, which I doubt."
(Quietly, you refused to acknowledge the part of you that has long since accepted Teyvat would never hurt you and that you may be the All-Mother. Damn Dvalin and his silver tongue, it's like Venti getting Genshin!Diluc on his side with his song all over again!)
Crepus positively shook in excitement, a grin so bright you really wished for sunglasses this time. It's like this sunshine of a man had made it his personal mission to blind you.
Diluc just looked stunned silly, eyes wide like saucers and mouth slightly open in shock.
You sip at your Apple Cider awkwardly, thanking the Archons that neither Kaeya nor the Dawn Winery staff were around to add more weirdness to this disaster of a dinner.
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
Look at me, completely ignoring Canon.
Did Crepus have a personality in Canon? Maybe. I didn't read the manga. Do I know what it might be? Nope. I didn't read the manga, so now he's an excited gold lab with a side seasoning of sly fox.
The beauty of fanfiction, reality is whatever the hell I want it to be.
Sometimes you need to just run with half a fact you probably misheard and misinterpreted to make something fun happen, SAGAU needs some fluffy vibes without the damn cult worship.
The people that know what they're doing are writing impostor AUs and cult AUs, so might as well volunteer myself as tribute for this one.
I should probably make a masterlist at some point, shouldn't I? The parts are going to grow really fast considering I keep them all short.
Something to think about.
✨Taglist✨
@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt
Heeeey, mmeatt's tag works finally! It only took me 3 parts to figure it out!
Also special mention to @chaoticfivesworld who casually dropped some important lore on me in a comment, probably not realizing it would become a plothole in the future because, I repeat, I don't know canon as much as I probably should.
Yolo.
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thought--bubble · 3 months
Text
Right Place, Wrong Time Pt 2/3
Dark Aemond X (Out of World Reader)
Warnings after the cut
This is the second half of the story based on THIS request.
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Canon Aemond Masterlist
Right Place Wrong Time Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners by @arcielee
A/N: Meant to post this last night but got caught up working on school stuff and didn't have time to edit. My apologies! enjoy!
Warnings:: dubcon, mentions of controlling behaviors, isolation, Breeding kink, rough sex, domination
You attempt to remain patient, but as each day passes, you find yourself growing more and more restless. Since your little foray into town with the prince, you have tried your best to stay out of his way in an attempt to not annoy him into "taking care of the problem," the problem being you.
Yet over the last two days, he has begun to seek you out. He never mentions any updates regarding your return back to your world and you haven't been able to muster up the courage to ask him, but today your impatience got the better of you and you had to ask for an update something to put your mind at ease.
So, when you were requested to his chambers for a morning meal, you hyped yourself up in the mirror.
"He wants you gone just as much as you want to be gone," you tell yourself. "He won't get mad. Not if you ask him the right way"
You shake out your limbs before being escorted to Aemond's chambers. Upon entering, he is sitting at his table, Sir. Simon stands beside you.
"You may leave us," Aemond says sharply.
"I am not to leave you alone for ... for her honor, your grace." Sir. Simon stammers.
"Her honor shall be respected and intact. If anyone asks, you stayed. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, your grace," Sir.Simon bows his head and takes his leave.
"Sit." Aemond gestures to the chair across the table from him.
"Thanks," you say gently, bowing your head as you slowly sit down in the chair.
"How are you adjusting?" He asks as he pours himself some tea.
"Oh, ummm. Ok, I guess." You pick at the small biscuit in front of you. "Not too worried about it..... since I'll be leaving soon"
Aemond puts down his tea cup harshly, the clanking of the cup against the dainty plate it sits upon causing you to jump.
"That is....... delayed. So you would do well to attempt to assimilate. " He pours her tea, his jaw is clenched tightly, and the tension can be seen in his neck and shoulders.
"Oh... may.... may i ask what the delay is?" You play with your fingers nervously.
"Missing ingredient." He lifts his cup to his mouth, sipping his tea.
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Just one?"
"Yes, but it is a very important one. Incredibly difficult to obtain, " he smirks. "Please, eat your biscuit." he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.
You pick at the biscuit briefly before looking back at him. "That woman, Alys? she's your lover, isn't she? She was in the books anyway"
"We had a brief tryst, yes, but I had to break it off when i realized my interests lay..... elsewhere"
You panic at this revelation. "Will she still help us? Since you cut her off or whatever?"
He chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, you sweet naive little thing." He gets up from his chair and walks around to your side of the table, standing over you. "Stand up"
You gulp audibly as you slowly rise out of your chair.
"I wish not to play this little game with you anymore." He brushes his thumb over your lower lip. "You are not going back"
"What?!" You shriek.
He pulls you into his chest and strokes your hair. "Shhhh sweet girl"
You push against his chest, trying to break from his grasp as he just pulls you tighter to him. He kisses the top of your head and sighs.
"The missing ingredient is the witch"
Your entire body goes rigid at his words, and you look up at him. "Alys?" You whisper.
"Mmmmmm," he strokes your hair some more while he looks down at you. "When I decided that I wanted to keep you, I thought it best to rid myself of the one person who could send you back" He leans down and smells your hair while goosebumps travel their way up your arms and up the back of your neck.
"W-w-where is she?" You ask the question while being terrified of the answer.
"Oh sweet girl, there is no need for you to be concerned about such things. All you need to know is that there is now no way for you to get back. " He rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones, cradling your face and angling it up towards him.
A surge of fear shoots through your entire body as you feel your legs grow weak beneath you.
"Oh, you are speechless, one of your best attributes, I must say." He holds you tightly against his body, gently swaying back and forth with you in his arms.
"Why?" Your voice is broken. You look up at him like a wounded animal that was just injured by its own master.
"Oh," he coos, gently stroking your face. "Because i want to keep you. Here. With me. As my wife. I will be the only one to know the true you." He gently pokes your nose. "The only one you can rely on completely. I will have you, and you will have nothing but me. " He rubs his cheek against yours. "You may be scared right now, but your loyalty will come with time when I am the only person in all the realm you can speak freely with"
You look towards him in shock. "My family? they must be worried. " You start to pull back tears pooling in your eyes.
"We are to be married, we will make you a new family." He pulls you back to him. "Do not be sad, my love"
You attempt to push yourself out of his embrace, but he holds you tightly and chuckles. "Still some fight in you, I see .... we can fix that"
He takes you tightly by the waist, just lifting you off the floor, walking you from his main chamber into his bed chamber.
You wriggle your body, trying to break free from his grasp. "Let me go!"
He chuckles as he continues to carry you into the bedchamber and then tosses you on his bed before quickly climbing on top of you, pinning your hands down on either side of your head.
"This is what you have wanted since you got here. You said it yourself." He leans down and starts to bite and kiss your neck.
A jolt of excitement runs through your body. This man is insane but he is also still very hot. So while your brain is screaming at you to stop him, your body is heating up, and a tingling pleasure is starting to build in your core.
he hums into your neck as he starts to unlace your dress. "You will be such a cute little wife, completely dependent on me." As he got the laces undone, he starts to pull the dress down and off your shoulders.
You sigh, the feeling of his hands on your skin as he slowly pushes the dress down. Your body is sending ripples of pleasure through you, but the prospect of being stuck here forever is frightening. "Aemond," you whisper softly. "I can't stay here"
He stands up, pulling the dress over your hips and down your legs, tossing it to the floor. "Oh, but you have no choice, sweet girl." He pushes your legs apart with his knee.
Tears start to stream down your face when the reality of your situation starts to set in.
He wipes a tear off your cheek and then kisses down the side of your neck, trailing down to your chest. You feel warmth spread through your body at his kisses, your crying starting to subside as you allow yourself to just feel physical sensations in this moment pushing your emotions far into the recesses of your being.
He continues kissing down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your chest and over your chemise on your stomach. Once he makes it down to your thighs, he pushes your chemise up around your hips, bringing his mouth directly to your sensitive skin.
You begin to tremble with anticipation as his kisses trail lower and lower. He bites into your thigh, not very hard but hard enough to give you a jolt before he quickly pulls back and kisses the injured flesh.
He hooks his finger around the centerpiece of your small clothes, slowly dragging them down your legs as he continues to sprinkle kisses along your thighs.
He pushes your legs apart and places gentle kisses along your folds, and then lifts himself up sitting on the heels of his feet. "See? There's no reason to cry. " He smirks before lowering himself to you again and licking one long strip along your heat, lapping gently at your pearl.
Your eyes shoot open and stare directly at the canopy above you as the heat and pleasure build up inside you. He continues to swirl his tongue around you as he slowly brings his hands up to your hips, moving you against his face in a gentle rhythm.
You bring your hand up to your mouth and bite down on your thumb to stifle the noise that is aching to burst its way from your chest. As he increases his pressure and speed, he grips tightly on your hips.
"Oh god," involuntarily spills from your mouth, and you can feel Aemond smirk against your skin for a brief moment before continuing his movements until he brings you over the edge.
You lay back on the bed your entire body pulsating, but Aemond has no plans of letting you rest. He quickly strips himself down to nothing and pulls you up.
"My turn." He grins and kisses you harshly on the mouth before quickly turning you over and pulling your backside up towards him. This all happens so quickly that you are bewildered, your body still shaking from earlier.
He slowly slides his hands up your back, tracing the curve of your spine. He pushes himself against your entrance and groans as he slowly enters you.
"Knew I had to keep you." He grips your hips tightly, his fingernails lightly digging into the soft flesh there. "Scared, lost little thing," He bottoms out with a loud groan. "You will make a perfect mother." He slowly starts to move against you.
You start to breathe heavily as you feel your cheek slide against the soft sheets with each thrust, the pressure of which gets harder and more aggressive with each movement.
"I'll fill you up" He continues to increase his pace as he runs a hand down your back and slides it into your hair pulling your head off the mattress as he wraps the strands around his hand.
"Every. Single. Day. " He pulls your hair tighter as your back starts to arch from the pull.
"Until you are bursting with my babes" He suddenly pushes your face back down and into the mattress and his pace becomes punishing, the loud smacks of skin on skin contact filling your senses your own sounds muffled by the mattress.
He pushes your face further into the mattress as he smashes his body into yours, the force of his movements pushing you further and further into the soft sheets.
He moves faster and harder against you than you thought humanly possible as you lose all sense simply drowning in the experience. Your movements are not your own, and while you feel powerless in this situation, you also feel a sense of relief.
As his movements become sloppy and uncoordinated, he growls loudly like an animal pushing you down harder into the bed until he is spent as he rubs his hands up and down the sides of your waist.
He chuckles and leans over, kissing you gently along your spine.
"You will be happy, here, sweet girl"
He places a few more gentle kisses on your skin.
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"You can trust me"
Part 3
To be added to taglist click here
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runningfrom2am · 2 months
Text
cold nights // part twenty-six
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summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 7.3k (WOAH)
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: sorry i made you guys wait so long for this omg!! i have been booked and busy this week but we are so back :)
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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It's your first day of university, and you don't know if you're more excited or terrified.
It was the beginning of the rest of your life, which is thrilling considering just two months ago you thought you had days left to live. At the same time, though, you knew no one here besides Coryo and Sej, and you didn't share a single class with either of them.
But, staying positive was a must. It would only be a few hours away from them, and you had planned to meet up for lunch with Coryo between your classes, since he had found some for you that started and ended at the same time as his. While you drape your scarf over your shoulders and tuck both ends around the belt at your waist, you smile to yourself. You take a last look in the mirror, to double-confirm that you like the look of the scarf worn that way over your white dress and when you're satisfied you grab your bag and leave your room. Of course, Tybalt is right on your heels.
Walking down the hall, you can hear their grandmother singing the national anthem in the other room, as she always does. You've never loved the anthem or what it stood for, but starting your morning hearing singing is nice nonetheless. Even if the woman who started her mornings with song had decided just to completely pretend you didn't exist, ignoring you at every turn. "Good morning!" You smile as you enter the dining room, Tigris and Coryo already sitting to eat.
"Morning." They both smile at you at the same time as you drop your bag down, sitting next to Coryo. "Are you excited?" Tigris asks as you reach for some apple slices. There are more fancy pastries spread out on the tray as well, but you'd much rather stick to fruit in the morning.
"I am." You grin, biting the slice in half. "A little nervous, though. I must admit."
"You don't need to be nervous." Coryo tells you, and his smile does relax you. But you know he doesn't understand. "I'll walk you to your classes, and I'll see you during our break. It'll be easy and you'll adjust very quickly."
"Aren't you nervous?" You ask, picking up your cup of tea and taking a sip. "It's your first day too."
"Not really." He shrugs, reaching up to mess with his hair. It had only been a few weeks since he cut it, but it was growing back rather quickly. "More excited."
"Oh, well, I'm excited for you too." You hum, taking another bite of your apple and smiling as he pats your leg under the table.
Pulling up to the campus after Coryo insisted that their driver take the two of you, you notice immediately that there were tons more people. Most were people around your age, which you expected. You wonder how many of them are Coryo's other friends, it would be nice to make more friends here. Just like the games. You find yourself thinking. "Safety in numbers", is what Coryo had told you. You needed allies here.
"There's a lot of people." You comment as the car comes to a stop, and Coryo gently squeezes you with the arm he has over your shoulder in the backseat, still shielded by the tinted windows.
"Yes, just stay close to me." He tells you, kissing your cheek. You nod and push the door open, thanking the driver quickly as you climb out with Coryo on your heels.
It's obvious to him almost immediately that you don't fit in. While there isn't a uniform like there was in the academy, he was still wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt- which seemed to be on par with the level of dress all the other students were donning. Mentally, he curses himself for not thinking of that. It didn't even cross his mind- all that did was that you looked beautiful. More done up than he'd ever seen you, and you don't look insecure about it, at least not immediately. Outside of what he can discern of just average nervousness as you seem to shrink in on yourself while you look out over as much of the campus as you can see.
"So, your class starts in twenty-five minutes. Usually, it's a good idea to get there early, that's what I've heard anyway." He tells you as he starts walking down the path toward the doors, and you follow quickly after him.
"How long does it take to get there?" You ask as you catch up, holding onto your bag over your shoulder.
"You tell me." He smirks, jutting out his elbow to gently nudge you. "I have you the tour, where are we going?"
"Oh." You laugh, looking around. "It looks a lot different now. Probably... ten minutes to get to the arts building?"
"About that, yeah." He nods. "In no time you won't need me anymore."
As you approach the entrance to the main building, it doesn't go unnoticed by him that you're being stared at. No doubt every other student here recognizes you, it would be jarring to see a tribute walking among them at school. Let alone be in a class with them. He wonders if they'd feel unsafe with you- he knows he would have without knowing you.
Not necessarily unsafe, considering even watching the games anyone could tell you wouldn't hurt a fly, but... uneasy, is a more accurate descriptor. It even begins to pool in his own stomach, growing more as you link your arm with his. They weren't just staring at you. They were staring at him, too.
"I'll always need you, I'm sure." You giggle, squeezing his arm.
He can practically hear all of their whispers now.
'Is that Coriolanus Snow? That District girl is all over him.'
'She's probably going to give him rabies or some other gross District plague. I won't be surprised if he starts a Monkey Pox outbreak.'
'I heard him and Sejanus Plinth went to District Twelve just for her. They probably came back half animal- no wonder he sees nothing wrong with this.'
Suddenly, he does. Your hold on him, while friendly, feels so sickeningly isolating. He pulls his arm from yours with the excuse of rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he speaks to you. "Well, we may not always have aligning classes."
"That's true, I suppose." You agree. "An awful shame though, I'll miss being able to have lunch together."
He just hums in agreement, picking up his pace as you move through the halls and out the back exit to be able to access the art building.
"This is you." Coryo says as he stops outside the door to a lecture hall, looking inside briefly before turning his attention to you. There were a few students already inside, reading or organizing their notebooks.
"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. He didn't have much to say on the walk to your class, but you sum that up to him being in a hurry to get to his own. The art building was certainly out of his way, if you remember where all his classes were supposed to be.
"You're welcome." He says, making an effort to match your smile. He could only really focus on the stares you were getting from people walking past, making wide circles around you. You don't seem to notice as you look up at him. "I'll come back to get you after class, so just wait for me, okay?"
"I'll wait right here." You nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head against his chest. "I'll miss you, though."
You feel him tense up under you, and he awkwardly pats your back. You don't clue in until you hear gasps and whispering. You quickly take a step back, cheeks red.
Coryo chuckles nervously. "It's alright, uh..." He leans down to whisper to you. "They're just strict about that kind of stuff here. Don't worry about it."
"Oh, I'm sorry..." You reply, looking around and smiling apologetically at the few people still staring as they walk past.
"I should have told you, that's my fault." He admits, standing up straight before leaning down to talk to you again. "Good luck in your class. I love you, and I'll see you for lunch." He whispers and is satisfied when that brings your normal smile back.
"I love you too." You whisper back, and he grins, giving you a quick nod. "See you later."
You wave as he walks away, and you take a deep breath before walking into the lecture hall.
Now, you're presented with your second big problem of the day. Figuring out where to sit.
You scan the room quickly, deciding the easiest would be the front or second row. There were a few students already sitting down there, and one girl who was sitting alone. She had blonde hair, and red lipstick that you think would match Coryo's coat that he sometimes wears quite nicely. She looked nice.
You smile as you make your way over to the front row, sliding into the seat next to her. "Hi! My name is Y/N, what's-" You whisper, wanting to stay quiet in the already silent room and before you even finish your question she's shoving things in her bag and getting up. "Oh." You frown, looking around as she quickly moves to a different seat. The shuffle caused everyone who wasn't already looking to stare at you, so you just quickly turned to face the front.
You didn't mean to scare her off, you just thought she might want a friend if she was sitting alone, and you definitely wanted one. She didn't even look at you for more than a second.
You quietly pull the notebook Coryo had given you out of your bag, placing it on the table in front of you and looking up at the clock. There were still fifteen or so minutes until your class would start, so surely by then, someone would sit next to you.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time the man you assumed was your professor entered, every other seat was taken besides the ones next to you. And behind you. There was this glaringly uncomfortable circle of emptiness surrounding you right at the front of the room. It was mildly embarrassing, but at least you didn't have to see everyone staring at you since almost everyone was behind you. But you still had the afternoon class, and the rest of the year to let people warm up to you. It would be okay.
"Okay, I hope everyone is here." Your gaze follows your professor as he shuts and locks the door. "If you're late, that's too bad. I expect everyone to be on time. This door will be locked at nine on the dot. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Dr. Nero."
You sit up straighter in your seat. He looks young, probably only ten or so years your senior with well-trimmed but present facial hair and a semi-casual suit. He must be relatively new to the position, and clearly, he took it very seriously.
"Alright, the department wants us to do icebreakers, so we'll get it over quickly. When I call your name on the attendance, tell us something about yourself and what your career goal is."
Shoot. You definitely didn't have any solid plans yet.
As he goes through the list, you wrack your brain for an answer. What did you want to do? Nothing specific. Maybe you'd write a book, maybe open a daycare back home where parents could leave their young ones with you by donation while they went to work. Maybe you'd be back at the library, but you really wanted to do something good with your education. You make a mental note to ask Coryo during lunch what kind of career you can have with a literature degree.
You look around, trying to remember as many names as you can as the other students answer.
"Teacher", "Artist", "Museum Curator", "Gamemaker".
Your eyes are still locked on the student who said that, a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. His name was Cancor Crane, if you remember what the professor had just called out correctly, and he was staring back at you. He was staring at you with such a vile expression that it looked like he wanted to gut you. A chill goes down your spine.
Then your name is called. You turn quickly, smiling nervously. "Hi..." You say, clearing your throat of the dryness that overtook it. "So, my name is Y/N... something about myself is that I have a cat, his name is Tybalt. Um, because my favourite book is Romeo and Juliet." You look around, then quickly back to your desk. "And I am not sure about my career, in all honesty. Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door." You shrug, smiling hopefully at him.
"Interesting." Your professor says, tilting his head at you and leaning back against his desk. "I expected your fact to be that you're a Victor."
"I- well, yes. I am." You reply nervously, twisting your pencil in between your fingers.
He hums. "Congratulations."
Congratulations on being the only one to walk away with your life.
"Thank you." You settle on, voice hardly more than a whisper.
"I've never taught a Victor before. This should be an interesting class for all of us."
You took as many notes as you could through the syllabus overview and first lecture. You were pretty pleased with yourself, everything looked organized and you felt prepared for the rest of the course- besides the textbooks that you needed to pick up. Another thing to ask Coryo about.
You don't see him at the door yet, after all, he had to walk all the way back from his class to yours and if he was let out at the same time he should be here in about ten minutes.
"Miss Y/L/N, do you mind staying for a moment?" Dr. Nero asks as the lecture hall steadily clears out. "I'd like to chat with you."
You quickly gather your things, making your way over to his desk at the front centre of the large room.
"Dr. Nero." You smile, bag tucked under your arm. "I really enjoyed today's class. I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester."
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."
He doesn't say anything else, and you're left wondering what he wanted you to stay for. "I just need to get my textbooks, but I have the list that you gave us so I'll see if I can grab them this afternoon. I'll have them for Wednesday." You say, just wanting to fill the silence.
"Good." He nods, leaning back against his desk and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I watched your games. When they told me that you enrolled in my class, I was immediately intrigued."
"Oh." What are you supposed to say to that? He watched you at your literal worst, that doesn't make you feel very comfortable at all.
"In a good way, I assure you." He says, sensing your nerves. "I feel as though you know more about English literature than anyone in this city. Maybe even more than me."
"I wouldn't say that..." You chuckle nervously. "I just like reading."
"Yes. With an unprecedented level of comprehension for a District-born child."
You want to scowl and argue with him about how the opinions of the Capitol citizens are based on nothing but their own superiority complex fuelled by their win in one war that cost the lives of many, but instead, you just smile and nod. "Thank you, Sir."
"Although, tributes are not given much of a chance to prove that they are more than animals when they are treated as such from the moment they arrive until the moment they die, wouldn't you agree?"
You tilt your head at him. His motivations and opinions are suddenly unclear and confusing to you. "Yes... I-I would."
"Well, I hope to learn more about your experience while we get to know each other." He tells you. "Thank you for coming."
"Yes, thank you." You say quietly, looking toward the door. "I'll see you on Wednesday."
"Yes, good luck in the rest of your classes." He nods to you, and you take that as your dismissal and head to the door. You would just have to wait for Coryo in the hall.
You wouldn't have to wait long, considering he was already there, right where he had left you earlier.
"Hi!" You smile, waving at him but being mindful of keeping your distance.
"Hello." He grins, already starting down the hall as you join his side.
"How was your class?" You ask excitedly.
"Good." He shrugs. "What about yours? That's what I'm more concerned about."
"It was good!" You smile. "I mean, I tried to talk to people but everyone was pretty quiet. And the Professor was nice. I think. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I'm a 'Victor'." You accentuate your point with finger quotations, bouncing between looking up at him beside you and ahead of you to make sure you don't walk into anyone. They seem to be keeping their distance, though.
"Of course he is." Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "But that's what we want. He may favour you, so go along with it."
"Oh, okay."
Tigris was nice enough to pack you both lunch for the day, yours consisting mainly of fruit. Something you have noticed over the last couple of weeks you've been here is that some of the food scares you- which is something you never thought of. If you can't somewhat accurately identify what it is just by looking at it, you're tempted to steer clear. Coryo insists you'll "get used to it", something he tells you daily about a wide variety of things, but Tigris doesn't mind packing you fruit for lunch or meals you don't help prepare yourself, which you appreciate.
Even for a September day, the sun is beaming down on the courtyard so you decided to eat outside. After all, Coryo says the weather won't be this nice all winter. You rarely got snow in Twelve, so you were excited for the holidays. Secretly, you hoped you could go home for Christmas.
"It's a beautiful day today." You comment, taking a bite of the fresh strawberry you pulled from your lunch container. The strawberries here were something that shocked you as well- they were bigger than the homegrown ones back home. Not nearly as sweet, though.
"It is." Coryo nods, leaning back on his palms in the grass. "Do you like it here so far?" He asks, squinting from the sun as he looks over at you.
"I mean, I've only had one class as you know, but so far it's great." You grin. "I'm excited to actually dive into the readings and such."
"I mean, like, in general." He chuckles. "Also, I have never heard anyone ever say they were excited about homework."
"A precious, mouldering pleasure it is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think." You shrug, smiling at him as you place the rest of the strawberry on your tongue.
Coryo scrunches up his nose in disgust while you chew. "You eat the leaves?"
Quickly, you're covering your mouth with your hand to speak. "You don't?" You ask, voice slightly muffled with the slightly sour fruit on your tongue.
"No!" He laughs, shaking his head.
You swallow what remains of the strawberry in your mouth, preparing to defend yourself when you hear someone call his name. You both turn, and your eyes land on a girl with long, dark hair as she walks toward you. With the shoes she's wearing, she only slightly struggles on the grass.
"Clemmie." He smiles, quickly standing up. You follow suit, brushing the stray blades of grass off of your legs and dress while he gives her a hug. A hug? That must be allowed outdoors. "I didn't expect to see you today."
"Yeah, well, they let me out of my cage for the occasion." She replies sarcastically. She must be hot, wearing a white turtle neck in this heat. Then she looks at you, lifting up her dark sunglasses and resting them in her hair.
She has the eyes of a snake.
You're in shock for a moment, but you quickly recover. "Hello, my name is Y/N. Are you a friend of Coryo's?" You ask, extending your hand to shake. You were just happy to possibly be making friends.
She doesn't take it, something you're used to by now. "Yes, we've known each other our whole lives." She answers, looking down at your hand as you slowly lower it back to your side.
"Y/N, this is Clemensia Dovecote." Coryo says, deciding to introduce you properly, since his classmate didn't want to oblige. "She was a mentor as well."
"Oh, congratulations." You grin, biting back the sickness you felt suddenly bubbling in your stomach. "From what I have heard, even being selected for the opportunity is a large accomplishment. You must be proud."
"Yeah, well, I'd certainly be happier if my tribute won." She shrugs.
"Clemmie-" Coryo hisses at her, and she looks momentarily horrified at her own statement.
You look down, nodding slightly with a nervous smile. "It's okay." You insist, laughing slightly and pretending to readjust your scarf and tighten it around the belt.
"I didn't... Not like that. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly after Coryo had jumped to your defense.
"No, it's alright. I understand." You tell her again, attempting a reassuring smile. "Would... would you like to eat lunch with us?"
"I have to get going, actually." Clemensia replies, looking between the two of you. "I was just on my way to my next class and thought I'd stop to say hi. It was nice to meet you, Y/N."
"You too." You grin, and she nods at you before walking away.
Your eyes stay trained on her as she crosses the courtyard, and Coryo is once again close enough to speak to you quietly so no one else would hear. "I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it like that."
"No, I know." You insist again, already sitting back down. "It's okay." You smile up at him, patting the patch of grass next to you so he would join you.
"She was supposed to be Reaper's mentor." He tells you as he rejoins you on the ground. "But... something happened before the games. She couldn't participate."
"Oh."
He moves closer. "Do you remember that day we went to tour the arena?" He asks and you nod. "And I was late, and you asked me what was wrong, and I told you nothing?"
You do remember that, and you never got answers, but you remember being worried it was your fault. You almost kissed him the night before, and you had made things weird when he just came to do something nice for you; bringing you a book and some birthday cake. You felt horrible. "Yes, I thought I had done something."
"You? No." He quickly shakes his head. "We had to write a proposal for Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, about things that could be done to "improve" the games. Like the bets, donations, sending food, and when we were speaking with her Clemmie got bit by one of the snakes."
You gasp, covering your mouth. He looks around, making sure no one is paying attention. Yes, people were staring, but no one would get close enough to be able to overhear.
"I thought she was dead, but they sent me straight to the arena to meet you." He explains. "And like she said, we've been friends forever so I was... quite upset."
"That's horrible." You frown, resisting the urge to reach for his hand as it sits on his lap next to you.
"Yeah." He agrees quietly. "But I saw her in the hospital after the bombing, she was alive but... different. Crazy."
"Her eyes?" You ask and he nods.
"And she was hallucinating, they wouldn't let anyone see her except me because I was there. She was angry with me because I didn't visit her enough."
"Survivors guilt." You smile sympathetically. It was a feeling you knew all too well.
"That's why she's wearing that shirt." He whispers, nodding to her just as she enters the building ahead of you. "She's got scales."
You cringe at the mere idea of it.
"I know." He laughs slightly. He doesn't look away from his hands in his lap, and while you can see he's smiling and laughing, it's doing little to convince you that he isn't upset. "It was kind of my fault, though."
There it is.
"No, most certainly not." You frown. You just want to hold his hand, surely you won't be caught if you do. You were outside, just for a moment isn't likely to get you in trouble. Especially if he was just hugging Clemensia. "Why do you say that?" You ask, settling instead for resting a hand on his arm.
"I... It's difficult to explain." He tells you, and you say nothing, willing him to continue. "So, our proposal was in the tank. Dr. Gaul told us if the snakes knew your scent, they wouldn't bite. But I wrote the paper, not her, and she made Clemmie reach into their tank and pull it out."
"That's not your fault." You tell him, gently squeezing his forearm.
"I should have stopped her. She would have hated me for telling them she didn't help write it, but none of that would have happened."
"Well, she's okay, isn't she?" You smile hopefully.
"Yes, but she just as easily could have died." He insists. "The only thing that makes me feel slightly better about it is that in a way, she saved you."
You cock your head at him, mouth falling open in astonishment. "I... what?"
He looks up from his lap to check your surroundings again.
"I put the letter you wrote to me into the tank." He whispers, and you have to lean in to hear it. "Because I knew if they knew your scent they wouldn't hurt you."
"You... never told me that." You state the obvious, retreating your hand back into your own lap. Part of you wishes he hadn't done that. They didn't quite catch you getting up into the rafters, his warning had been enough, but you should have walked to your death the following morning when you climbed down and found the note in the first place.
"I just... I don't know, I thought it would be worth more if it stayed a secret. I didn't want you to feel... indebted to me, or something." He admits. "But I'm still trying that thing where I tell you everything I'm thinking. Especially about this stuff."
You nod, putting your focus on picking pieces of grass at your side. "Thank you."
"Please don't thank me." He frowns. "I told you. I had to. I knew I loved you even then, Y/N/N."
You give your head a quick shake, already sensing the spiral it was about to fall down. "Let's not speak about this here." You mumble. "Please."
Immediately, Coryo understands. "Of course." He watches you run your fingers through the grass slowly, and realizes quickly that you are counting them. Now was not the time or place for another attack, and he felt foolish for even bringing the topic of the games up. "What books do you need?" He asks, hoping to get you in better spirits. "Anything that looks good? You said you were excited for the readings."
Your lunch doesn't feel like it lasts long enough, even though you had an hour and a half between your classes. Once you got to talking about your books, the time seemed to fly by and Coryo agreed to take you to the bookstore on campus the following afternoon so you could get all your books at once. He had a few to get as well.
He walked you to your next class, a few floors up in the same building and this time you were mindful to not hug him goodbye. He told you he loved you, very quietly, and you said you loved him too before entering the room. Another lecture hall, slightly smaller than the last one.
You mentally prepare yourself to play this game again. Where to sit, and preferably, finding someone willing to sit next to you. Looking around, you see a couple of girls in the middle of the room chatting away. They looked nice enough.
Preparing your smile as you walk up, you slide into the seat next to them. "Hi there, my name is Y/N." You grin, keeping your voice low. You really didn't want to scare them off. "Can I sit here?"
They look at each other with an expression unreadable to you, before one of them nods. "Yeah, we can't see why not."
"Oh, thank you!" You say excitedly, pulling your bag up onto the desk to grab your other notebook out of it.
"You're the Victor." The other girl comments, and you realize they're both staring at you still.
You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, nodding. "Mhm."
"So... why are you here?" The girl closest to you with a brunette ponytail asks.
"Oh, well, Coriolanus, he was my mentor, he came to visit me back home and convinced me to come study here." You explain. "I want to have a career. Help my family."
"Oh, we know him." She says, and they look at each other again, chests shaking with laughter they're attempting to conceal.
"You do?" You smile. You knew starting with his friends was a good idea, this is just a happy coincidence that you had decided to sit next to two of them already.
"Yeah, we went to the academy with him." The girl's friend explains. You notice then that they have a very similar hair colour, but hers is cut short and curled just above her shoulders. "He always had such a stick up his ass. Took everything way too seriously."
"That's what my brother said, too." You giggle. You weren't sure if they were being genuinely mean or not, but you decided to air on the side of caution. You wanted friends. "But he is truly lovely. Do you know him well?"
"You could say that." One of them answers vaguely and you just smile, tucking your bag back under the table. "Your bag is... interesting. Where did you get it?"
"Oh!" You say excitedly, lifting it back onto the table. "My Ma made it for me. Isn't it pretty?"
They laugh, and your smile fades. You thought it was very nice, made from pieces of scrapped linens that she had used in other projects, stitched together into a pattern that made up your shoulder bag. It was perfect for carrying your notebooks and pencils, you had brought it to school back home all your life.
"It's... something else." The girl with the short hair nods.
"Does your Ma hate you? That's so sad." The other girl pouts, resting her chin on her hand.
You quickly hide the bag away again at your feet. "No, of course she doesn't." You weren't sure what to say. Why were they being mean? They had been nice to you a moment ago.
"Did she make your dress, too?"
You just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
"Wow, yeah, I could tell." You look down at the words, unsure as to what she could see that could be wrong with it. This was one of your favourites.
Admittedly, it was a little short on you, similar in style and colour to the one you had worn to the Capitol the first time you came. But now, looking at what she was wearing and her friend, both with button-up shirts similar to Coryo's and different coloured blazers with a matching skirt, you realize that your attire is very different. Different vastly from everyone in the room as well, as more students are trickling in.
You didn't think it mattered until now.
You don't get the chance to come up with anything in defense of your dress before she reaches out and grabs at the material of your scarf, rubbing it between her fingers. "This is the scarf you had with you in the games. It doesn't look like your mother made it, though. This is mulberry silk."
You jump a little at the unexpected contact, and they laugh. "Uhm, no, she didn't." You clear your throat. "It's a family heirloom. I'm not sure where it came from." Not entirely a lie, it just wasn't your family heirloom.
"Neat. So, where are you staying?" She asks after a moment.
"With Coriolanus and his family. They've been very kind to me." You smile. Their eyes go wide and they look at each other again.
"You mean, on the Corso?"
"Yes, that's what he told me it's called."
"Wow, you really made yourself comfortable here, huh?"
"Well," You laugh slightly. "It's been an interesting transition, but he's made it much easier. He helps as much as he can."
Simultaneously they pick up on the pink flush of your cheeks as you remember the amount of times he's come running when you had a nightmare, only to bring you water and back to his bed to sleep after. Weirdly enough, he made you feel safer now.
"Oh my god." The girl with the bob laughs. "You like him, don't you?"
"Of course I do. He's my friend." You smile, a little confused. That only makes them laugh more, and you pick up on what they were implying. Quickly, you turn even more pink in the face. "Well, I mean, um..."
"Y/N." You turn your head at the mention of your name, looking up at the girl now standing in front of you. She was smiling, and immediately seemed to have a kinder spirit than the girls you were already sitting with. "Come sit with me, Coryo asked me to save you a seat."
"Oh, okay." You nod, grabbing your things again and standing. You were eager now to get away from those other girls.
"Lysistrata, come on. We were just talking to our new friend." The girl with the ponytail pouts, and you look back at Coryo's friend. She just stares at them, something akin to a warning in her expression.
"Where do you want to sit?" You ask her, still recovering from their mildly embarrassing comment as you stand up.
She just nods toward one of the upper rows and starts walking. "It was nice to meet you." You smile at the girls nervously before following behind her.
"Oh, and Twelve?" You stop and turn when the girl with the ponytail speaks up again. "Good luck with Coriolanus, though I hate to tell you I have a head start. We're actually engaged. But like I said, good luck!"
You feel your face pale and you just nod, quickly turning away and focusing your gaze on the long dark braids belonging to the girl leading you up the stairs.
Your mind is absolutely reeling as you follow her to some seats near the back. You didn't know he was engaged. Honestly, you thought you were kind of his girlfriend. He told you he loved you not ten minutes ago, for god's sake! But maybe it had meant something different to him all along. Was this something they did in the Capitol? Because back home if you kissed someone that meant they were your one and only, but maybe that was very different here. So many things are very different here.
"They aren't engaged. Don't listen to her." Coryo's friend, Lysistrata you think her name was, says as you sit down.
You look over at her. "They aren't?"
"No." She scoffs. "Livia just thinks they're getting married because her daddy wants them to. They hardly ever even talk."
"Oh." You reply quietly, looking down the rows at the girls you were just with. That does ease your panic. "Not... not that it matters to me."
"It's okay." She smiles kindly at you. "To be honest, he hates her." She whispers. "I think you've got a much better chance. He speaks very highly of you."
You blush, smiling back at her. "I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Y/N."
"Nice to meet you." She smiles, and for the first time today, it feels genuine. "I'm Lyssie."
"Did you go to the academy too?" You ask for the sake of making conversation. She seems lovely, and you're excited at the idea of actually having a friend in one of your classes.
"I did." She smiles. "I was Jessup's mentor. Coryo and I worked a lot together during the games."
You chew on your lip, nodding slightly.
Today was just full of draining conversations.
"I'm sorry." She adds quietly. "You all deserved better."
"I'm sorry I didn't stay with him." You whisper. "I regret it every day."
"Don't. You did what you had to do, no one holds anything against you. I think you did the right thing."
You just nod, opening your notebook. You have to hope that once you get all these impossible conversations out of the way and people know you better, you'll have other things to talk about. And maybe one day, the topic won't make you want to cry, throw up, and jump off the nearest building all at once.
"He was one of the best of us. He should have won." You say quietly.
"Don't say that." She smiles sadly at you. "I'm glad it was you if it couldn't be him, and he was very sick. He wouldn't have made it much longer anyway."
"I had to go home and see his family." You felt comfortable talking to her, like she wouldn't judge you. It was a relaxing feeling. "My heart breaks for them, they're good people. And they needed him."
"You know his family?" She asks.
"Not really. We've crossed paths here and there, my Ma helps them on occasion with fixing their clothes." You shrug. "Still, though. From what I know, they try to stay in life. Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends."
"Would you happen to know their address? I would love to write to them. To apologize, that is." She explains and you smile, nodding before scribbling it down in your notebook and ripping out the page to hand to her.
"Thank you."
Another two hours, another "icebreaker", and more stares. You hoped that your classmates would eventually get tired of staring at you, you imagined it would make it quite difficult to take notes or pay attention to the lecture.
You felt almost guilty about it. Coryo didn't tell you that everyone would be so shocked but you shouldn't be surprised. Looking down at your clothes and the scarf that had almost entirely been cleaned of the blood stains it carried back to Twelve, you thought maybe it could have something to do with how you dress. Obviously, it would be distracting if you stood out so much, so maybe fitting in would be better. As much as you love your handmade clothes, maybe they would have to be reserved for time spent at the apartment or on rare days out.
Coryo is waiting outside since he got let out a few minutes early. There was no use in starting a lecture when going over the syllabus took a full hour and a half. When students start pouring out of your room, he looks at everyone waiting to see your smiling face. Well, hoping to see you smiling.
Lysistrata walks out first, and with no sign of you with her he grabs her arm to catch her before she turns the other way.
"Thank you for doing that." He says, smiling sympathetically at her.
"Of course." She grins. "She's lovely, we talked for a bit before class."
"Yeah, she is. Anyway, thanks." He nods at her, dropping her arm and with a kind nod, she's back on her way.
He counts his blessings that he had run into her after leaving you for that class a few hours earlier.
"Hey, Lyssie." He grins, stopping her in the hall as she was on the way to class.
"Coryo. How are you?" She smiles and he shrugs.
"I'm alright." He replies quickly. "What class are you going to?"
"Uh..." She looks briefly at her notes. "Geography. B217."
He sighs in relief, and she looks at him confused and lets him pull her to the side of the hall. "That's Y/N's class, would you mind sitting with her? She told me that this morning that no one would and I know she just really wants to make some friends... Could you do that for me?"
"Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N, your tribute?" Her eyes go wide and he nods. She didn't pay any attention to gossip and focussed more on getting from one class to another. She didn't even know that you were here.
He chews on his cheek while he waits for her to respond. If anyone was willing to make that social sacrifice, it would be Lyssie. School was never a popularity contest to her.
"Of course I can. Yeah."
When you walk out not long after her, he's quickly joining your side. Earlier, he felt so uneasy having you all over him with people watching and by now he just missed you. If he didn't know better, he would have decided he didn't care- but he has to.
"How was it?" He asks and you smile, as per usual, but he notes that now you have untucked your scarf and are instead using it to drape back over your shoulders and around your arms and back.
"It was delightful." You say happily, following his steps along the hall. "And yours?"
"Delightful?" He asks, smile tugging at his lips. He can't help it. "That wouldn't be a word I would use, but I would say it was okay."
"Okay is better than awful." You shrug.
"Certainly is." He agrees, leaning down to speak quietly into your ear in the loud hallway. "Missed my girl, though."
"Is that me?" You ask, allowing him to open the door to the building for you.
"Of course it's you." He chuckles as you pass him. "What do you mean?"
You laugh. "Well, I met a girl named Livia in my class and she told me that the two of you were engaged."
Coryo groans, letting the door fall shut as he follows behind you. "No, ew. She's... no. Absolutely not. Maybe if I planned on marrying someone I absolutely despise, then she would be the perfect candidate."
"But that's not what you look for in a woman?" You ask, turning to walk backward in front of him.
"Nope."
"I'll take your word for it." You giggle, seemingly nonchalant about Livia's apparently blatant attempts to scare you away. Coryo wouldn't let that happen, and he's glad you didn't see it that way.
He smiles at you as he rejoins your side.
"Coryo." You say, breaking up the peaceful quiet of your walk home. He looks at you. "I think I shall look for a job."
"A job?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "You don't need a job, we talked about this. Just focus on school."
"No, I know." You say quietly. "But I think I would just like some spending money, perhaps get some new clothes. Wouldn't that be nice?"
His heart sinks unexpectedly. As much as he would love to see you blending in more and embracing the culture that came with living in the Capitol, it didn't feel like that would really suit you. If he wanted a Capitol girl, he could have had one. Apparently, that's not what he wanted anymore, but the more you blended in and became "one of them" like he promised Dr. Gaul you would, the more likely people would be to accept the extent of your relationship. However undefined it may still be.
"If that's what you would like, but you don't have to work for that." He shakes his head. "I told you I would take you to the mall, the one with the ice cream shop. Maybe we can go on Friday." Friday was the first day of your weekend- the one day during the week that neither of you had any classes.
"That would be fun." You smile up at him. "I'll just have a look around, see what people are wearing. Get a better idea of what to save for."
"If that's what you want, love."
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158 notes · View notes
luveline · 11 months
Note
jade to say i’m obsessed with eddie and roan is an understatement. can we see r walk in on eddie and roan having a tea party and the fun that follows - tysm ily!!!
thank you for your request my love! dad!eddie x fem!reader
You're so used to coming home to Eddie in the kitchen that his not being there actually makes you nervous. The feeling doesn't last very long —you can hear him laughing in the living room.
You close the door quietly and slip out of your shoes. You hang your coat and bag on the bannister of the stairs and walk the short distance to the living room door, immediately laying eyes on your very favourite people in the whole world. 
When Eddie and Roan first moved in with you, you gave away your coffee table to make room for some of her toys. Eddie was horrified at first: you were moving in together, and it was scary, and you knew he was scared of you changing your mind, so he hated how many changes you made. The child proof locks on the cleaning supplies cabinet, the new kitchen table with enough seats for all of you, the improvement of your guest bedroom into a princess paradise of silk sheets and fairy lights for Ro. The thing that scared him most of all was the coffee table, worried you were cutting things out of your life for them, worried you would resent him for that. 
You have yet to feel any such emotion. You didn't even really like the coffee table, though that isn't the point. 
Roan's picnic table, painted pink you know by Eddie when she was maybe three years old, is flocked by mismatched chairs. There's a drum stool from a set of drums Eddie doesn't own, a pink and green plastic chair, and a regular wooden stool with a flower painted on the seat. Eddie sits on the flower stool, Roan sits on the pink and green chair like a throne, and the drum stool remains empty, though a Teddy has been propped up on the leg with a saucer in hand. 
"I need more sugar in mine," Eddie says, holding his cup out to Roan. 
She holds court. In her favourite turquoise princess dress that's getting much too small for her, the back button undone, and a plastic tiara you got for her when you barely knew her, Roan takes a little plastic spoon from the table and spoons imaginary sugar into Eddie's teacup. 
"Thanks, babe." 
"You're welcome." 
Eddie doesn't look nearly as royal. He's wearing sweatpants but no shirt on account of the insufferable hot weather, his tattoos always surprising despite having seen them hundreds and hundreds of times. 
There's his simple flock of bats, his demon puppeteer and its puppet on strings. There's the clock over his heart, hands pointing to the time his mother passed. That one shocked you the most, when he told you. He doesn't talk about his mom much. When he does, it's with the reverential adoration of a child who thinks the world was made by their parent, exactly how Roan speaks about Eddie when he's not around. 
And there's his R, for Roan, behind his ear. You can barely see it. You'd paid for it as a birthday present not that long ago, and ever since he's started wearing his hair back more and more, like he wants to show it off. He usually has his hair tied back at work anyways, and the heat today is stickying. 
He’s shirtless but wearing socks, you realise. What a weirdo.
"We could have a real tea party," Eddie suggests. "I'm not busy. I can make some sandwiches and we can have sweet tea?" 
"Y/N will be home soon," she says, shaking her head. 
"She won't mind." 
"No, but she doesn't like sandwiches." 
"Who told you that?" 
"She says they're not big enough." 
"She means when you only eat one and nothing else for your lunch at school, babe. She wants you to eat the crackers and the cut fruit, too, so you're not hungry before you come home." 
Roan shrugs. Eddie shrugs back, laughing, and takes a pretend sip of tea. "Well, excuse me," he says against the lip of his teacup. 
"I like sandwiches," you say, finally breaking your cover. 
Eddie flinches bodily, not having known you were there, his saucer tumbling to the floor. Roan doesn't flinch but she does shout, "Woah!" and stands up from her chair. 
"Sorry, Eddie," you say with a laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you. Sandwiches can be such a spooky business." 
"Loser," he says, standing too. 
Roan climbs onto the couch and up over the back to get her after school hug. You receive her eagerly, her cool lengths of skirt and all her dark curls under your hands as familiar as her smell, baby shampoo, jelly bean body wash, and the pleased laughing sound she makes as she rubs her face against your neck. 
"You used to be so little," you say, propping your cheek on her temple. 
Eddie meets your eyes over her head and grimaces at you. "She's getting older every day." 
"We missed you a lot," Roan says. 
"You did? What for? It's only been a couple of hours." 
"Because we love you and we need you to have dinner." 
You laugh suddenly. It actually hurts, like a cough, "You just wanted me to come home so you could have dinner." 
"Not true," she says, sounding guilty. 
"You not feeding my girl?" you ask. 
"We had a whole bag of honey barbecue chips waiting!" Eddie denies, rounding the couch to kiss your cheek. "And they were awesome and we didn't save any for you. Suck it." 
"Mean." 
"Will you come and have a cup of tea?" Roan asks you, taking on a posh effect. 
"Oh, I'd be delighted," you croon in a bad proper accent. 
Roan beams, overjoyed, and bounces back down onto the couch. You sit down at her tea table as Eddie leaves for the kitchen, calling, "Two minutes, I'm making some sandwiches for my poor hungry offspring!" 
He returns with a plate of big sandwiches, another bag of chips, and a jug of sweet tea you'd been steeping in the fridge. Your stomach rumbles as soon as you set eyes on the food and Roan is the same: Eddie sets the sandwiches down between you, and you and Roan descend on them like piranhas scenting blood. 
He gathers the tea cups and the small teapot and takes them to the kitchen. They're damp when he brings them back and sits down, "Ready for tea," he says. "All clean." 
Eddie pours tea from the jug into the teapot and allows Roan the honour of pouring it into your cups. She's ecstatic. He's made her incredibly, overwhelmingly happy with such a small gesture, her little face contorted by the force of her smile. 
"For you, good sir," she says, lifting her teapot from Eddie's cup. 
"Thank you, madam," he says. 
She lifts her pert chin. "Of course, Mister Munson. Tea, lady?" she asks you. 
Your mouth is so full of sandwich you can barely speak. "Yes, please." 
She chuffs happily and fills your cup. Eddie leans across the table to tuck her wild hair behind her ears, all the gentleness of a devoted father but all the expertise of someone who's had to corral unruly curls for more than twenty years. 
"Please get off," she says. 
Eddie tucks his hands under his thighs, properly chastised. "Sorry, babe." 
"It's okay. Do you want chips?" 
"Not in my tea, right?" 
"No, dad, with your sandwich, duh."
"Duh," you echo. 
He reaches under the table to punch your thigh. You jump and ram your knee into the table, tea sloshing over the sides of your cups. Roan squeals in horror, while Eddie laughs and pinches you again.
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levispersonalslave · 3 months
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He tapped the fragile shell of the egg against the edge of the bowl, humming a small Italian love song to himself as he cracked it into the large bowl. His bangs held back by a pink clip that he had 'borrowed' from his oh so generous fiancé. He didn't bother keeping quiet, as he knew you would be sulking in the corner of your shared bedroom after the argument. His ego wouldn't let him apologize to you just yet, so you'd have to settle for the cooking he was currently making. Cookies. His mother's recipe.
One hand holding the pan with the other kneading the dough, he glanced at the closed bedroom door. He rolled his eyes, wondering when you'll finally decide to come out just to sass him again. He didn't mind, he liked your attitude.
What he didn't like, however, was how you had decided to go ahead and flirt with some other guy, just to spite him. He squeezed the dough in his fist tightly at the thought. You shouldn't be with any man other than him. Only he deserved to be yours. No one else.
He kept those feelings to himself, however, refusing to cause any problem of sorts with the love of his life.
He rolled the dough and sliced it into a few small pieces, all while thinking about you and that man you had decided to try and 'seduce'. He hadn't gotten the chance to be alone with that man, as much as he had wanted to show him why you were his and his alone. Why did that bastard get to make you laugh like that?
“He shouldn't have even gotten the privilege to live on the same ground as you do,” Levi thought to himself as he scooped a bit of cookie dough into the palm of his hand.
He had been quiet for most of the fight, watching you and your attitude that he usually handled so well. But he couldn't, not this time. How could he? When his mind kept wandering back to the image of you touching that bastard over and over again? He had half a mind to put you in your place tonight, although he pushed that thought away for the time being. He wouldn't let himself get carried away. He was angry, but he still cared about you enough to not go too far. He hadn't yelled at you during the fight, he had just been scolding and rambling on and on about why you shouldn't have let that guy touch you. Are you crazy?! He remembered himself saying.
You had to be. You knew all too well what happens when you manage to get him angry.
His hands absentmindedly shaped the dough into little balls, his thoughts already preoccupied by you. He was quickly finished with the food, letting it bake as he watched it with a blank expression. He was simply standing there, wearing a black apron, staring at the food as it cooked. He didn't know why, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of irritation. It wasn't like him to get jealous easily, but he couldn't help it this time. He let a small sigh leave his lips, turning to plate the readied sweet dish.
He left it on the dining table, not bothering to call you. He knew you wouldn't come if he called you anyway, but he also knew you'd come out eventually. You'd get hungry and sneak out of the room to find something you could eat. The corners of his lips curled up ever-so-slightly at the thought.
He turned and left to the living room, sitting down on the couch where he had made himself a cup of tea and his favorite book. He waited patiently, knowing you'd come out anytime now, until he finally heard the bedroom door creak open. He didn't spare you a glance as you reluctantly took the plate of cookies. You looked at him with a scowl, “You think I can't cook for myself?”
He easily ignored you, sipping his tea as his gaze remained fixated on the passage he was reading with a calm expression on his face. This wasn't the first time he had ignored your mere existence.
“Wow, you're ignoring me too now?” You retorted, rolling your eyes when he stayed silent. He wordlessly glanced up at you, taking a long, taunting sip of his tea, just to make you mad. His plan worked, as you began to reprimand him angrily. He simply watched you, calmly sipping his tea with one hand while the other held his book.
“Are you done now?” He spoke nonchalantly once you finished.
“No--” You began, before he quickly raised his hand for silence, cutting you off. He snapped his book shut, set the cup of tea on the coffee table, and gestured for you to come closer. Reluctantly, you did.
“Closer,” He spoke in a demanding tone. His finger gesturing you closer.
The moment you stepped within reach, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down onto his lap. You let out a gasp at his sudden act. You looked at him with your hands resting on his shoulders. His large hands held your waist, keeping you in place as he pressed a long, deep kiss to your lips. He pulled back after a moment.
He looked at you solemnly, though his eyes held a hidden warmth, “Will you behave now?”
Seeing your nod, his lips curved up into a smile. “Good girl. C'mere, angel.” He gently grabbed your face with one hand and pulled you in, planting a passionate kiss against your lips.
Once he pulled away, he ran his long, slender fingers through your hair, enjoying the feeling of the strands between his fingers. He smiled softly at you, pecking your lips once again. He held you close to him, one arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand guided your head to his chest and letting you rest against him.
He kissed your forehead, murmuring softly against your skin, “He can't kiss you like this, can he? Only I can. Remember that, yeah? I love you, angel.”
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