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sailing-through-hawkins · 2 months

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When Eddie sees her, sitting on the picnic table, her feet shuffling back and forth on the bench like that one dancing scene from The Breakfast Club (so what if he went to go see it? It's a good flick!), he almost runs back the way he came.

Because here's the thing about Robin Buckley.

While Eddie's status at the bottom of the social ladder is guaranteed, what with his hobbies and his music and his ability to irritate even the most patient of individuals (bar Uncle Wayne, blessed be the man), he doesn't fuck with Robin Buckley.

She was never anything to write home or gossip over coffee about, not when Eddie started his first senior year or even before that, when he was just starting up Hellfire and went to band to see if he could recruit any lonesome souls. Robin wasn't interested then, more keen to avoid his eye and fumble with her uniform, so he chalked her up as another lost to the masses.

Then all the shit with the Zombie Boy (a killer moniker, wouldn't that make for an awesome song title?! But he doesn't know if it'd be like, copyright infringement or whatever) went down and he got a little more protective of his circle, cloaking them from the unmerciful eyes of the Hawkins mob, pushing back when shit hit the fan and that mob tried impeding on his people.

And it worked! Nobody messed with him or his, not enough to be met with more than a snort - hell, even that asshole Hargrove stayed away after Eddie pulled a knife on him in the school parking lot. He wonders if all that wild anger the dick had to choke down went into the fight he had with -

Anyways.

Point is that Eddie knows his place, and thanks to a little intimidation and a lot of false-turned-true-confidence, nobody messes with him.

The thing is - he still doesn't mess with Robin Buckley.

Like he said, she was always another one of the masses to him, and he never expected any different.

But then something happened to her.

Some people say that she got trapped in the mall fire and it burned half her face off, she's just wearing enough makeup to cover it up, but it messed with her head.

Other people say she was always a little - uh, airheaded, he'll say, to be polite - and the Starcourt fire just made it more obvious, burned through the façade she'd wear in public.

One or two voices whisper that she's being haunted, that when she laughs to herself in the silence of the classroom, it's because of the spirits of Starcourt's casualties that lurk in her shadow.

(That last one was Jeff actually, and Eddie has to hand it to him for the poetic imagery.)

Any way he hears it, Eddie's instincts go red alert, telling him to give Robin a wide berth in the hallways, to avoid eye contact for longer than a single moment, to ignore her quiet snickers every time he ties his hair up.

So yeah, when he's about to head to his favourite picnic table and finds wacky Robin Buckley laughing to herself as the leaves around the table kick up without a hint of wind in the air, he almost turns around and shoves himself back into his van. Eddie Munson may be a freak but he's no -

"Oh, you're here."

He freezes in his steps, glancing back to see Robin smiling thinly at him, one legged crossed over the other as she leans back. Her eyes glaze over for a second before she barks out a laugh, making Eddie jump in place.

"Didn't expect you, to be honest." She tilts her head.

Eddie's throat is too dry. He starts a sentence, backtracking when the leaves stop kicking up and it's just his shaky voice in the silence between the trees. "Well, it is my spot, Buckley."

Her eyes glint and she uncrosses her legs just to spread them, leaning in and staring at Eddie with an untethered expression stretching across her face. "Is it?" Her raspy voice asks.

Blood roars in Eddie's ears. His fingers twitch, and he's ready to run.

"Don't." She orders and he freezes. "We need to talk."

He hates it when people say that. It's always, always bad news and it's just too cliché.

"And what, pray tell," he says, raising his arms out with a confidence he doesn't feel. "Is it that you could ask of me?"

The leaves kick up behind him. He resolutely ignores it.

Sighing, Robin crosses her legs, shuffling back on the table (and they call Eddie a heathen, jeez). She looks to the right, where the leaves are swirling in a mini tornado. Her smile is small, and a little sad.

"We need your help."

Eddie gasps as the leaves kick up ferociously, the wind bites at his fingertips and Robin glares at him, at the chaos around them with eyes like nothing he's ever seen.

"Stop it."

"Wh -"

"I said stop," She glares at him and his jaw clicks shut. "We agreed - yeah, yeah, we did! Stop it, you're scaring him!"

"I -"

"I'd say the grown-ups are talking," Robin cuts him off with an eye-roll. "But someone's being a big baby."

"Look, Buckley -"

"I swear to god," Robin waves a hand towards Eddie. "Either you play nice, or we're never figuring this out! Do you wanna be invisible to everyone forever?!"

There's a heavy silence at that.

No leaves rustling, no wind, no nothing.

It's like the entire forest just went...dead.

Then Eddie feels a brush of something down his hand and he screams.

"Awesome!" Eddie jumps when Robin grabs his arm (when did she leave the table?!), staring at her smile as foul terror quakes his bones. "Don't be afraid, Eddie. We won't hurt you."

A rustle of leaves smack his shin and he shrieks, unable to jump (or run) thanks to Robin's steel grip.

"Well, not physically."

"Buckley, I have never messed with you before," Eddie whispers as the something trails down his hand, shoulders and face. He's frozen in the wake of the touch. "Fellow freaks of Hawkins and all, but -"

Whatever it is, it grips Eddie by the shoulders and his jaw clicks shut. Robin's grasp on his arm tightens and she nods, staring into space.

"Okay, so could you do it?"

Silence. Eddie's heartbeat races.

"Like what?"

The something ghosts over his fingers and he almost whimpers.

"Oh, like this!"

With that, Robin grabs Eddie's hand and takes off one of his rings. Before he can sputter or shout or cry, she replaces it with one of her own.

And then, like he was always there, Steve Harrington appears before his eyes.

A bloodied, ghastly Steve Harrington who's staring right into him.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers and the spectre grins a sharp, toothy grin.

"Hey Munson," Steve croons. "Miss me?"

#steddie #stobin #<- my target audiences for this #writing #ficlet #au content: ghosts #sailing queues #the dinguses (affectionate)#sailor✧writes

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planete777 · 4 months

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ONE TOO MANY・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. when one more orgasm is one too many (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, p in v sex, high hotness (although not as pertinent, could really be read as sober sex tbh), unintentional overstimulation, a bit of crying, lando is a sweetheart

NOTE. pretty short, would probably be more of a drabble. nothing much to say other than this is not my best work but enjoy! credits to @benkeibear for the dividers.

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)

y/n feels lando everywhere, in places where she cannot ever fathom the tingles of pleasure reaching, and it succumbs her mind to a state of tattered mesh. the margin between euphoria and pain chips away in grand chunks, red swiftly dissolving in green and all ability to think dwindles.

usually, she's one to favour a bit of overstimulation, hence why lando currently slams his hips into hers, cock jabbing her cervix incessantly just succeeding 2 consecutive orgasms. yet, partnered with the fact that she's high out of her mind (leading to heavily amplified sensations) and how she already had her own fun before lando came home (and, by proxy, got high and excessively horny) meant that her body was on the verge of crying out in it all just exceeding the usual threshold.

she can feel her body shaking, head nudging the headboard with every thrust lando bestows, and it's like she's bouncing on hot lava: seconds of pure relief, startled by white heat.

there's barely any transition between the build up and her orgasm, the wave of aching pleasure crashing upon her in the blink of an eye, and her back arches completely off the bed.

"fuck fuck fuckkk-"

"yeah, that's it, baby," lando groans as he continues to snap his hips into her ass, "you're doing so well for me."

he's not stopping, and y/n can't blame him because it's quintessential that they go for longer. then lando's pace quickens and his dick seems to fly in and out of her that she can't answer what he asks.

"you can give me another, can't you?"

she wants to shake her head, but she's completely unmoving. her moans turn into silent, drunken puffs, eyes fused tightly shut as she digs her nails into the flesh of lando's muscular back. paradoxically, everything feels like nothing at all, and simultaneously, too much and her mouth flies open desperately in sobs and words as hands push into lando's sides to get him off.

"red! fuck— red, lando!"

it's with neck snapping velocity that he sheaths out of her, broken out of his high daze so rapidly that he feels disoriented. their safeword has never been used before, and now that it has, he feels like crying.

"shit, baby, i'm sorry," he presses kisses into her chest and face, concern multiplying when her sobs don't stop, "are you okay? what's wrong?"

"just too much today, sorry," she shifts to straighten out her leg but it jostles her throbbing cunt, making her wince. lando's frown deepens; it's not usually this painful for her.

"nothing to be sorry for, love," another peck is stuck on her lips, "let me get you a towel."

her throat clogs up, too enervated and satiated to reply, so she hums affirmatively instead. the bed dips and, with hooded eyes, she watches as he makes his way to the en suite, hears a few seconds of shuffling before the creak of tap and gushing water.

lando resurfaces seconds later, gently opening her legs before wiping her down. every touch heightens tenfold, and she pushes his hands away after a couple of swatches.

lando's eyebrows stay furrowed, "y/n, you should've stopped me earlier-"

"it's fine, lan'," she stretches an arm to pull him in, "just wanna cuddle now."

he follows, tucking her body into his front as he kissed the side of her neck.

"i'll run you a bath after," lando weaves his fingers through hers, "sound good?"

finally, in a state of bliss, y/n softly smiles, pulling their braided hands up to land a peck onto lando's skin.

"yeah, love, sounds perfect."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris fic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1

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railingsofsorrow · 7 days

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don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” pairing: s.reid x gn!reader w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst. A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight.

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—”

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.”

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.

“I'm gonna drive.”

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.”

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more.

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out?

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.”

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly.

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.”

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.”

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed.

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense.

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.”

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.”

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;

#spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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woso-dreamzzz · 17 days

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Cub and Älskling

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader (Cub)

Fridolina Rolfö x Child!Reader (Cub) x Älskling

Summary: You meet Frido's Älskling

The baby is very little.

She's small and cute and is cradled very tightly in Frido's arms.

You stare at her, eyes not moving as she wiggles around. Her eyes are wide as she stares back at you.

You lean closer and her little hand is free of her blankets.

She punches you in the face, right in the nose.

You gasp.

"Mami," You say, turning to look at her," She's so cool!"

Mami laughs in disbelief. "Cool, huh? She just punched you."

"Yeah!" You nod frantically," And I'm bigger than her! She's so cool! Is she your baby Tia Frido?"

Frido shakes her head. "She's my baby sister. I like to call her Älskling."

"Hi, Älskling," You say before gasping again," She smiled at me! Ingrid, did you see? She smiled at me!"

"She must like you, Cub," Ingrid says," You're very likeable."

"I know," You reply," But Mami says babies are difficult sometimes. It's good that she likes me."

You've been waiting for ages to meet Tia Frido's little sister. You weren't at training the day the rest of the team met her.

Ingrid had to send you to nursery that day because it was picture day and Mami really wanted a fancy picture of you.

It made you a little sad to not meet Älskling then but you're happy you can meet her at your house. She keeps looking at you and smiling and you smile back.

She looks really cool and Frido sets her on the floor to explore there. She can't crawl just yet but she can sit up and look around.

She reaches for you and you shuffle closer.

"Careful, cub," Mami says," Remember, Älskling's only little. You must use gentle hands like with Bagheera."

You nod very seriously and get closer again, sitting on your knees. You've got the magic wiggles but you're trying to keep them at bay because you don't want to scare Älskling.

You give her your hand and she wraps a whole hand around one of your fingers. You stare at her, mouth slightly hanging open as she lets go of you.

She grunts, hand curling into a fists as she punches your finger.

You giggle, wiggling a little bit on your knees in excitement.

"She keeps punching me!" You tell no one in particular," She's so cool! Can we keep her, Tia Frido?"

Frido grins triumphantly. "I knew you'd be on my side! But, sadly, she has to go back to Sweden at some point. She lives with my parents. I'd have to kidnap her if she stayed here."

"That's okay," You tell her," You can stay here. Älskling can sleep in my room and you can sleep in bed with Mami and Ingrid!"

Mapi turns pale at that thought.

"I think it would be better if Älskling stayed with her parents, cub."

You flash her a disgruntled look. "Älskling's my new best friend," You say," She can't leave!"

"Don't worry," Frido says," I'll be making sure she comes to visit a lot."

You nod. "Good because she's my new best friend and I want to show her everything."

That sparks an idea in you and you hurry off to your toy crate. You didn't use to have one until Ingrid moved in, took one look at the messy apartment and came back with little crates and storage bins to put things in.

You kind of like your toy crate now because all of them are in the exact same place and you know where to put them when you're done playing - though Ingrid has to remind you a lot to actually put them back in the crate.

You grab a few things you think will interest Älskling like your yellow digger and your magnifying glass. You snatch your løve (lion) from the sofa as well and crowd into Älskling's space again.

She's smiling again and making little giggly sounds as Frido tickles her.

"Here, Älskling," You say, placing your yellow digger next to her. You demonstrate how it moves before showing her the magnifying glass. She seems more interested in that than anything else so you let her hold it.

She's got a very good grip and lifts the toy up to her face before putting it in her mouth. You giggle when she pulls a face at the taste but then sticks it right back into her mouth.

"She's silly," You tell Ingrid," But still fun!"

"You were silly," Ingrid tells you.

"But not now."

She laughs. "But not now."

You keep your distance from Älskling for a little bit, playing by Frido's feet with Bagheera and your digger. You let your magic wiggles all run out before you're up on your feet again and ask the question you've wanted to ask since Frido arrived.

"Can I hold her?"

"Say please, Cub," Ingrid prompts and you correct yourself.

"Can I hold her, please?"

"Of course!" Frido says, tapping the spot next to her," Let's get you comfortable."

#woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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xi-chan · 22 days

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Your Poppy

sypnosis: You end up falling asleep while waiting for your lover pairings: Aventurine, Sunday, Blade A/N: Wanted to get more active so here you go. Characters may be ooc like in almost every fic that exists lol - not proofread

AVENTURINE

A finger lightly grazes your cheek with utmost care, a smile appearing on Aventurine's lips as he saw your sleeping figure on your couch. After running some errands for the IPC, he got caught up in some different matters with the Ten Stonehearts, thus extending his absence. He wanted nothing more than to get home and stay in your arms forever.

He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and brushed some hair strands out of your face, smiling even more. You were the most perfect being in his eyes- like you were divine. He carefully placed his arms under your figure, carrying you bridal-style to your shared bedroom and letting the silk covers engulf you. However, you slowly opened your eyes and smiled back at him.

"..Welcome back.. I didn't mean to.. fall asleep." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you tried to sit up, but a large hand held you down. Aventurine chuckled as he shook his head, "No need to get up, dear. You slept so soundly, shouldn't have interrupted that."

You simply sighed and lied down again, feeling a shift of weight beside you as Aventurine plops down next to you. You shake your head and point to his clothes. "Change. I won't have your IPC germs on the bed." You pulled the cover over your body as your lover mocked your words before changing into his night attire, the one with the silky smooth texture you loved, mostly because it felt nice on your skin.

After he was beside you again, you were face-to-face, and he gave you a light peck on the lips. "I missed you." You chuckled as you snuggled closer to him, feeling the silk texture of his attire. "...I missed you too. Why were you away for so long?"

Aventurine only pouted as he held you closer to him, your head right beside his chest where his heart was underneath.

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm with you right now."

SUNDAY

As you shuffled in your sleep, you noticed that the position you were in was different than the one you remember falling asleep in. Instead of sitting in your lover's, Sunday's, chair, face down onto his desk, you were instead sitting on something far more familiar and warm, the desk right beside you in view. A small hum from above made you realize in exactly what position you were in.

Sunday had spotted you sleeping on his desk and knowing just how uncomfortable that chair can get, he simply picked you up, sat down instead and placed you on his lap with your head on his shoulder. Rather than holding you head with his hand so that it wouldn't nod around, he spread those fluffy wings to hold it.

Sunday may be the Halovian between the two of you, but you were far more of an angel than he in his view.

As you looked up to see where the sound came from, Sunday was fast-asleep, although you knew he could wake up if you only poked him a little. You smiled to yourself and snuggled closer to him, embracing his warmth.

"Shall we go to the bedroom or do you favor this more?" he asked suddenly and you shook your head. "...Doesn't matter where. You choose, whereever it will be.. I know it's nice if you're there."

Sunday chuckled quietly as he held you closer, humming a sweet and calming tune. "Robin's song" you think. It's been some time since you've last seen her, actually. Before you could think further, Sunday kissed you softly on the forehead, catching your attention.

"Don't worry your head so much and get some rest, love."

BLADE

Kafka was singing a lullaby while you waited for Blade- damn that smooth voice for making you fall asleep. Blade had been sent out by Elio for a mission and it had already been 3 days since he departed. Kafka's been spending some time with you, telling you that you shouldn't worry or that he'll come back soon- or rather in her words:

"You know Bladie, I doubt he's taking his time."

Kafka smiled as you fell asleep with your head on her lap, her fingers were stroking your hair and Silverwolf quickly took a picture before disappearing again. Although you were no Stellaron Hunter, the others saw you as their familiar- even Sam who you rarely saw.

Footsteps made Kafka stop and she sighed contently. "How did it go?" Blade stood in front of her with crossed arms, the same expression on his face as usual. "Mhm, never mind, tell me later on focus on them." She carefully lifted your head off her lap and placed it back on the couch. She winked to him before leaving the room.

Blade suspired before sitting down beside you. His hand rested on your hip as he leaned his chin on the other. During every second of his immortal life, Blade wishes to leave this eternal torture- the burden of his past and the Mara inside him give him no rest, but you- you seem to have an aura that surpresses his Mara-like Kafka's spirit whisper, but much more intense. Just being near you calms his body and mind, and he'll forever be grateful for it, no matter how you do it.

"You've died countless times to the point where people are used to it and have stopped asking 'Are you still hurt?', haven't they?" Blade hummed as he turned away from you. "What difference does it make?" You smiled at him before grabbing his arm softly, minding his bandages. "Immortal or Mortal, you're still a person. Everyone needs reassurance once in a while."

Blade's lips curled upward- but not exactly a smile- at this memory. He quickly unfolded a blanket and draped it over your body, letting you continue sleeping as he leaves.

#hsr #honkaistarrail #honkaistarrail drabbles #aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #sunday #sundayhonkaistarrail #sundayxreader #blade #blade honkai star rail #blade x reader #fluff #drabbles #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 2 months

Note

If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!

Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞

Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭

Hi Anon!

This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!

Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.

Word Count: 3,706

Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut

A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!

Part Two

She Likes it Like That

“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.

Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”

“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”

“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”

“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”

The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.

The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.

One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.

“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”

“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.

“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”

“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.

“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”

Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.

You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.

“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”

“I-I uh—”

“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”

It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.

“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”

“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.

“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”

You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.

“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”

“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”

Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.

“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”

Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.

What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.

You fucking loved it.

Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”

“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”

“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”

“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.

Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.

This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.

The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.

“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”

“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.

“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”

“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”

“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.

Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.

Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.

“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”

Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.

One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.

Yeah, he was going to let you cum.

Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.

Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.

“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”

“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.

“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”

You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.

“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”

“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”

Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.

Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.

“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”

“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.

“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”

Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.

“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”

You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.

“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”

With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.

His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.

The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.

After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.

“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”

You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.

“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.

After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”

“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”

The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.

“Did you bring home my mochi?”

In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”

722 notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Note

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over?

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed.

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling.

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks.

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again.

“Hi, how can I help you today?”

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door.

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent.

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then.

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together.

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas.

How do you explain looking like shit?

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine.

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing.

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him.

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides.

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment.

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them.

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.”

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way.

You hadn’t even attempted that.

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes.

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light.

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin.

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?”

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!”

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?”

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths.

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse.

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill.

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite.

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply.

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again.

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly.

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours.

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.”

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know.

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads.

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true.

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’”

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless.

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 5 months

Text

[7:21 am]

(cw: f!reader, a child, "shit")

Haechan shuffled back into the room tiredly. His hair was a mess, his pajama pants were rolled up to his knee on one side and normal on the other, he was missing a sock, and he could hardly see clearly due to him still stuck in the awake but so close to being asleep state. The baby on his hip, on the other hand, was very much the opposite. His eyes were wide, a happy smile on his face as he caught sight of you on the bed, leaning forward with his arms outstretched for your attention.

Haechan set him on the bed gently and watched his son quickly crawl over the sheets to be in your embrace. "Good morning sunshine! Did you sleep well?" You asked with a soft and tired smile, pushing your son's hair from his eyes.

Despite his lack of speech he smiled widely, pulling his pacifier from his mouth to place a wet kiss on your chin. You laughed brightly and cupped his cheeks, "I love you too sunshine," and then you placed a kiss on his chubby cheek. You kept him in your hold while you turned the tv on to some cartoons at a low volume in case Haechan still wanted to sleep.

He laid there for a while, hoping sleep would soon find him again, but it didn't. He sighed loudly, rolling to face his little family and pulling you into his hold while his eyes focused on the cartoon dogs on the screen. He placed an arm around your shoulder and the other arm on his son's belly, patting it gently. Without looking at his dad, his son quickly pushed the hand away from him and pulled your arm over him.

"What makes you so special?" Haechan whined.

You scoffed with a laugh, "I birthed him, hello!"

"But I'm his dad."

"And I'm his mom, he's just my baby mama's boy," you cooed as you wrapped your arms around your baby and hugged him lovingly.

Haechan knew he was a jealous person. He was jealous when you were both only dating, he hated to see when other people would make you laugh or talk to you for extended periods of time. Not because he was insecure in your relationship, no. He was jealous that your attention wasn't on him. His jealously had thankfully lessened after getting married. Two calm and blissful years of love and enjoying one another, until the baby came along. Haechan would never admit he was jealous of his son, his own flesh and blood, but... he was.

Haechan pouted, "You're both so mean to me! My son and my wife, that's a pair. And me? I'm all alone, ostracized in my own home with the people I love."

You laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, "You know we love you."

His pout stayed on his face, "another."

You smiled placing a series of kisses on his cheek, "better?"

He smiled triumphantly, leaning forward to place a single kiss on your mouth. It was innocent, sweet, and lasted all of 3 seconds before he heard a whine and a small hand hit his cheek.

He pulled away with wide eyes, looking at the scarily identical pout on his son's face. He tested the waters again, placing a chaste kiss on your mouth again only to then see his son turn and climb up until his head was right beside your so he could block his dad.

"I can't even believe this right now, I have to be having a nightmare." Haechan stated, shocked.

He leaned in for another kiss and was stopped with a baby sized shove to his cheek and a whine. He tried to go over his son's head and again another whine and a tiny hand stopped him. You scolded him, "You're antagonizing him, stop." You pulled your son to your chest pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Haechan maintained eye contact with his son and gasped at the sneaky smile shot his way, "You little shit!"

You shot your arm out and hit his shoulder, "don't use those words around my baby."

Haechan continued to stare at his son, "Sometimes I question if this kid is even mine, but he acts just like me. I guess it's settled."

You scoffed loudly, "I birthed your clone, who is identical to you in every way: possessive, loud, looks, and personality and you questioned if he was yours?"

"You forgot that we're both obsessed with you," Haechan added.

You rolled your eyes, smiling softly when your son's hold on your shirty tightened, "That was the possessive part."

+BONUS

yourusername

Liked by leehaechan, suh.johnny, nayuta, and 131 others

yourusername good morning from sunshine!☀️💛

moon_taeil Good Morning Sunshine🫶

leehaechan my SONshine🤩🥰

marklee so we’re going to act like you didn’t call me and complain about him 10 minutes ago?

yourusername TEN minutes????!

ddoyoung he called me for at LEAST 15 to tell me his “SONshine” was stealing his wife

yourusername Lee Donghyuck.

leehaechan thanks a lot guys marklee ddoyoung

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reticent-writer · 3 months

Note

Hey! Well, actually, I really like the set of stories about Teen!Reader and Alostor where the reader is classified as an assistant, I would like a story that shows how they met and how they get to the point where they consider him an assistant and their confidence to say him dad? Thank you, I'm sorry if the request was very long. (Writing this I remembered the fight Alastor and Lucifer had over Charlie about who she calls Dad, I felt it would still be a good scenario for indignation)

An: I had a storyboard for this exact thing but its messy and if you don't know me you probably wouldn't understand how my mind works but basically i have ocs for this

This took a bit longer because it happens before Alastor and reader dies plus I gave reader a family so...... some basic info

Y/n was born into a family that was picture perfect on the outside

father was a factory worker Mother was a dressmaker

Doll House by Melanie Martinez fits them perfectly

Y/n was the middle child of 5

When Y/n was born the eldest (Atticus boy) was 10, Second eldest 6 (Alma girl), Middle child (y/n)

when y/n turned 4 their parents had twins (Giles boy, Gideon boy)

This is a glimpse into my mind. It might not make sense.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

-1920-

Y/n is 10.

Your parents were perfectionists, especially when it came to the public eye. The L/n family was always the center of attention in your little town, deep in Louisiana.

You and your siblings were constantly dressed in Sunday's best.

"Kids make yourselves look presentable. A client is coming soon." Your mother called out from her 'workspace'. kids aren't allowed in there.

"Can't we just stay in our rooms." Atticus complained from his spot on the couch.

"Get. Dressed."

Atticus groaned as he got up to go to his room. On his way, he knocked on your door before opening it.

"You're supposed to wait for a response, Jackass."

"Next time you curse at me I'm poppin' you." He threatened but you knew he wouldn't do anything, "Mom said get dressed, tell Alma."

He closed the door before you could complain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as he ran to his room.

His room was at the end of the hall. the hall was short with 2 doors on each side. Alma was across from you and the twins were next to her.

Right across from your room is Alma's. She's going into her preteen years and started to spend more time in her room. Your mother says she's adjusting to becoming a woman and needs her time alone. She's also becoming very snappy.

You slowly opened your door to stare at hers. You slowly walk into the hallway and up to her door. You knock three time and wait for a responce. She didn't open the door.

"I heard Atticus." Her voice was horse and strained but you believed what your mother told you.

That was all you needed to get yourself ready.

-------

Your mother made all (except for Alma) of you sit in the living room and wait for the client.

*knock knock knock*

"He's here. You better behave." She says before opening the door with a smile only guests see, "Alastor, It's so good to see you again."

"Good to see you to, my dear and my my look at the children. They all seem to be in good health." He greeted all of you with a smile.

"Hello sir." Atticus spoke for all of you.

"You seem to be missing one." Alastor commented, making your mother chuckle.

"She's been feeling under the weather as of late, come along I need to take your measurements. Atticus, Y/n prepare some tea." She ordered.

Alastor and your mother went to her workspace and she shut the door.

----------

That night went smoothly until your father got home. He didn't like the fact that your mother was in her workspace with a man and the door closed, even if he was a client.

It caused fighting -well more than there normally is anyway- between your mother and father. It's always been easy to make your father mad.

It got worse when Alastor took notice of it he came by more often with the excuse of having gifts for you and your siblings.

He gave you a radio to listen to him when he went on air. Atticus was offered a job at the radio station. Alma got a set of jewelry.

This angered your father more and instead of taking it out on Alastor or your mother he took it out on you and your siblings. Atticus tried to protect all of you.

One day your father and Atticus got into a really bad fight and your brother was shot. He didn't make it.

It was around the same time when a horrid smell started coming from Alma's room. Your parents said she caught a fever and no one noticed but you didn't believe them anymore.

From then on you started distancing yourself from your family and growing closer to Alastor.

--------

When you got older (16) you started working with alastor at the radio station. He taught you how to live life without worry.

He treats you like your a person and not just your parent's child.

Your parents treated you like a decoration. Alastor treated you like a child he didn't know he wanted.

You found out he was a murder by accident. You forgot someone at the station late at night and went back to get it to see blood spattered in the talking booth.

At first you thought it was Alastors so you took a gun that the station had in case of emergencies and followed the trail.

Opening the back door you saw Alastor dragging the body. The two of you made eye contact. Your body moved without hesitation and helped him hide the body.

------

Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

This is long and not what I usually write but it's been stuck in my head for a while.

A/n: I've decided to cut the twins and make y/n the youngest. I had something for them originally but it's better for just Alma, Atticus and Y/n

Art by @ghostly-one

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #child reader #x child reader #teen reader #platonic #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel angst #reticent writes #reticent writer

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chvoswxtch · 4 months

Note

Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to.

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different.

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them.

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie.

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight.

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years.

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy.

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now.

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt.

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment.

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home.

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago.

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic #matt murdock #daredevil

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jhkfan123 · 3 months

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you're losing me | coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x !fem reader

in which: after a work trip, y/n finds coriolanus with another woman

warnings: angst, conflict, cheating, shouting, panic attack, no happy ending (only read if you want to depressed)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: i'm actually not sure where this came from but i am lowkey proud of the writing.

"you say 'i don't understand' and i say 'i know you don't'"

you were so excited to come home early. surprise him. bring home his favorite dinner for him.

you had been gone three days now. it was a trip for all the interns at the job you had been interning at. in fact, you were studying your favorite subject. you were desperately looking forward to actually starting your career with the people you were now working with. but they had let you come home a day early. because today was your birthday, and you wanted to spend it with the love of your life.

with the bag of food in your hand, you opened the door to the penthouse. it was dark out, and there were no lights on, so you flipped one on. he was not in the main room, so you placed the food on the kitchen table and began to search for him. you checked the living room, nothing, so you headed for your bedroom. from under the door, you could see that the lights were off, which had you thinking maybe he wasn't home. nevertheless, you opened the door.

you shouldn't have. you should have stayed on your regular path. you should not have come home early, then you could have lived with him blissfully unaware.

but you did. you opened the door. and you found him, with clemensia dovecote. giving her kisses in places he hadn't given you in a long time. he quickly stopped when he heard the door creak open. the two of them immediately started shuffling around, and you slammed the door. you gazed at the closed door for a moment, realizing what you had just seen. then you ran to the bathroom, and locked the door. you slid down on the door, and began to breath very heavily.

every time you tried to capture your breath, you would lose more air. every time you tried to breath in and out, in and out, in and out, you just choked. you felt warm tears stream down your cheeks, which sent you into another spiral. you ran your hands through your hair and tried to get yourself together.

you had been dating him for three years. three years. three years. and now he throws it all away? since senior year. the two of you had been dating, since before the 10th hunger games. He went away to district 12, and when he came back, he came running back to you.

you never thought this of him. he was protective, and jealous, and seemed to be obsessed with you.

on the bathroom floor, you tried to calm down. you tried the only thing you knew.

five things you can see: the floor, the sink, the toilet, the shower, the candle on the counter.

four things you can touch: the cold floor, the towel hanging low on the rack, your own arm, the drawer near you

three things you can hear: the buzz of the air conditioner, your breath, and shuffling in the hallway. that didn't help

two things you can smell: the lingering scent of the candle from when it had most recently burned, and the scent of your body wash in the shower, even though it was faint

one thing you can taste: the salty tears now running into your mouth.

you could now take slightly deeper breaths. you realized you would have to go out there soon. maybe you would wait two minutes. maybe clemensia would leave.

clemensia. you hadn't even seen her since graduation. you thought he hadn't either. clearly that was wrong.

the two of you had a strange relationship. you were always jealous of her, but for some reason, she was always jealous of you too. anything you would do, she would do better. and anything she would do, you would do better. it was a constant battle to be on top.

you thought you had won. you got the guy, the grades, the job, everything. now you weren't so sure.

you took one final deep breath, attempted to balance and get yourself up. you unlocked the door, and almost opened it. but then a knock was heard from the other side of it. you opened the door and saw coriolanus with his head down. you pushed past him and made your way for the kitchen. he began to walk behind you.

"hey, i-" you heard. you pivoted on your foot and stopped abruptly. he jumped back.

"what the fuck, coryo." was all you could get out. he winced at his nickname. "really! clemensia dovecote!" you felt tears stream down your face again.

"look, it didn't mean anything" he sighed out.

"that's all you can come up with? coryo," he looked like he hurt more each time you said his name "then why would you do it in the first place!" you shouted. you didn't mean to, but it wasn't your decision. it just happened.

"i," he began to stutter. you could tell he was trying to make up excuses.

"please don't make excuses. be an adult." you said. you closed your eyes to get the remaining tears out.

"i don't know." he responded. you sighed with immense disappointment.

"yes you do. yes you do." every time you were stressed, you had a habit of repeating yourself. it was comforting, hearing yourself. "you wouldn't-" you took a deep breath. "you wouldn't have done it if you didn't have a reason." now he took a breath.

"she had been reaching out to me a lot recently. i didn't tell you anything because i didn't think it was anything. then-"

"how long." you asked. he looked up at you as you interrupted him. "how long have you been with her." you desperately wanted to know. "how long have i only been loving half of you. how long have i only been loved by half of you" you asked.

"i swear, i swear it was only tonight." he said. that actually made it worse.

"coryo, it's my birthday." you choked on tears that were now streaming down your face again.

"i, know. i know." he seemed to be kicking himself. he attempted to get closer to you, but you backed up. now the two of you were on opposite sides on the island.

"what did i do." you asked. double the amount of tears were coming down now. "how badly did i screw up that you did this."

"you did nothing, my love. it's my-"

"do not call me that." you cut him off. he nodded in acceptance that he didn't get that right anymore. he didn't get any part of you anymore. you could have swore you say his eyes get teary, now.

"she came on to me." he explained.

"you could have got her off. but you didn't. you kissed her. and you kept kissing her. and you took your shirt off. and that's the image i walked in on. do not put this on her. yes, she shouldn't have done that, but it's your responsibility, coryo. it's your responsibility to tell her no." now a tear did stream down his face as he listened to you. "so i ask you again, what did i do?" you felt yourself getting weak. you were so disheveled and out of it that you hadn't realized how hungry you actually were.

"you didn't do anything." he responded, fairly quickly.

"then why!? why would you ever do this!" you shouted again. snot getting everywhere and your vision become more blurry with each tear.

"it just happened. you didn't do anything. and i'm a horrible person and i know this is a horrible situation and you don't deserve this at all, but please, believe me, when i tell you that i love you." the words stung you like an alcohol wipe on an open wound. the words felt like a stab in your back, like a stab in your heart.

he made his way over to you again. you were to weak to back up. you looked up at him, your vision allowing you to just barely see his silhouette.

"coriolanus, i don't even know if i can believe you anymore." you crumpled this time. the tears all came out at once. you began to sob, and then your legs gave up. you fell to the floor in agony. you felt coriolanus grab you, and you didn't move. you had no energy to. but how could he even allow himself to touch you like this?

he got down onto the floor with you, and held you around your chest while you sobbed. he didn't say anything. he was probably lost in the smoke of his guilt, that had now flooded the entire penthouse.

the warmth of his body would have normally felt comforting, like cuddling in a warm blanket. but not now. you were ice cold. shivering from your hunger, and your tears. not even the heat of his body could melt the quickly freezing heart you had for him.

it felt like hours passed before you finally managed to see your surroundings. when you managed to finally calm yourself down enough to stand, you moved yourself away from coriolanus. then you sat. both of you, at the island.

the two of you were silent. the two of you had nothing left to say. the two of you had nothing left to do. all you could do was do the next right thing. and in your mind, that was to go somewhere. anywhere but here.

"i'm leaving." you got up, took a second to gain your balance, you still hadn't eaten after all, and grabbed your bag.

"it's freezing out. please, stay." he begged. his eyes were also dried out from the tears he shed.

"i walked here, earlier. i can walk back." you replied.

"where will you go?" he asked. you thought. you had moved in with him after graduation. his home was the only one you knew for the last three years of your life.

"i'm going to go stay with a friend. and then, i am going to come back, in a few weeks, and get my stuff. move out." you laid out your plan for him. you saw another tear fall from his face.

"are you sure?" he asked.

"coriolanus, i'll be fine." you began to make your way towards the door. then, you paused. a single tear flowed down. "i will miss you, though. i hope you know that." you said. you refused to turn back. you refused to look at him. if you did, you thought you might go running back to him. if you did, you would never look away again. so you opened the door.

"i'm always going to love you. and i'm always going to be here. for you." he said. your heart begged you to look back, but you couldn't. not after that.

and, even though it slowly broke every part of you. you steadily closed the door behind you.

#jhkfan123 #tomblyth #coriolanussnow #coriolanus snow #hunger games #tom blyth #hungergames #tbosas #snow lands on top #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #im really sorry im not sure where this came from

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rogueddie · 3 months

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I'll Be Here T | 1,187 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is being willing to wait for them

Eddie has always known that, one day, Steve would move to the city with Robin so he can finally go to college. Eddie has grown too aware of Steve, his tells and how much he needs Robin.

When he first brought up college, he was venting about how horrible it would be to go so long without seeing Robin.

Eddie had struggled to hold back his laughter, painfully aware that he wasn't actually venting. He was trying to find an excuse to follow her. He was trying to convince himself that it would be worth putting the effort in to go to college too.

So, when Steve shuffled in one day, concerned but excited? Eddie wasn't surprised.

"I got in," he'd started. "To college, I mean. I applied with Robin and... I got in."

"That's amazing," Eddie said. "Baby, I'm so proud of you."

And he was. He was so extremely proud and excited.

But, when the day finally came for Steve to leave, he found it hard to bring those emotions back. He hated how clearly Steve could see through his forced grins.

"I'm fine," Eddie had insisted when Steve asked. "Really. I'm going to miss you, but this is so good for you. I'm so excited to hear about what you're going to do."

"I'll call," Steve promised, arms tight around him in a hug. He only pulled back to litter Eddie's face with kisses.

And, as promised, Steve called as soon as they arrived in their new dorm. Eddie could hear Robin babbling in the background, excited about their tiny little space, whilst Steve tried to hold in his laughter long enough to spew his usual romantics.

He'd called the next day too, to let Eddie know how they'd settled in and talk about all the different activities he was planning on checking out. There was even a D&D group that made him think of Eddie, that he didn't join simply because he wants his first game to be with him.

It wasn't until the next week that he called again. Steve spent the entire call gushing about a teacher who'd sat down with him and talked him through all his options.

"I'm going to be a teacher!" Steve had finished his speech off. "For, like, middle schoolers!"

"That's amazing!" Eddie replied. "That's- Stevie, that's perfect for you! You're gonna be amazing!"

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"I know so."

Steve had warned him that he would be busy, that he wouldn't be able to call as much.

It still made something deep in Eddies chest ache when another week would go by with no news from Steve.

Eddie wasn't worried though. Not really.

Especially when he came back with Robin for Christmas.

He hadn't been able to stay more than three days but, the entire time he was back in Hawkins, he was glued to Eddie. He grabbed and held on, as if he was finally able to breathe. As if he would die if he didn't get to touch Eddie for one second longer.

Robin constantly joked that she was going to need a crowbar to pry him off of Eddie.

She was almost right. It had taken him so long to say goodbye that they left more than an hour later than they had originally planned.

Eddie waved to them as they drove off. He was surprised at how excited he felt- it would only be a year until he got to see Steve again.

They'd been reluctant to admit their plans to stay in their dorms over summer break, but Eddie had encouraged them.

It was a good idea after all.

"But he could be doing anything," Mike had frowned, confused at how calm and content Eddie was. "With anyone. And he's not talking to you! Doesn't that make you... I don't know, worry?"

"No?" Eddie frowned back. He didn't understand why the kids were so confused. "Steve wouldn't do something like that. I know that, so what do I have to worry about?"

"You're just gonna wait around forever then?"

"Nope. He's just at college, kid. He's gonna come back and, when he does, I'll be right here."

When Steve went into his second year, he had settled enough that he started calling once a month.

It quickly became Eddies favorite time of the month and, if anyone tried to get him to do anything else on the day, he would blow them off. He couldn't be late home- not when Steve was going to call.

"I miss you," Steve would always say, in lieu of a greeting.

"I miss you too, baby," Eddie always mumbled back. He would cradle the phone close, with both hands, as he did.

"I keep thinking about you," Steve promised.

He would say it every call, repeating it as though worried that Eddie might forget. That Eddie might doubt that.

Eddie would always divert the conversation before Steve could spiral too much.

He always gave the same farewell when it came time for Steve to hang up so he could study or take part in whatever activity Robin has dragged him into that week.

"I'll be here," Eddie always said. "Don't worry about me. I could wait forever for you, big boy."

The third and fourth year went the same as the first.

Each Christmas was glorious. But, for the third Christmas, they'd managed to organise enough so they could spend a whole week in Hawkins.

Eddie insisted on taking polaroids of them. His favorite is the one he'd snapped of Steve, who was unaware, soft and sleepy in Eddie's kitchen.

"This is the last year," Steve told him, at the start of his fifth year. "Just this year, then I'm coming home."

One more year. It was the phrase that had been getting Eddie through the waiting, but it didn't help anymore. It only made it worse.

He couldn't stop thinking about how, when Steve does come back, he's staying.

Wayne helped him move out the trailer, and into his own. It wasn't any bigger than Wayne's, but it was enough for Eddie. He knew it would be enough for Steve.

The hideout didn't pay well, but Eddie was careful with his government hush money. He had plenty, more than enough to last a lifetime if budgeted right.

He made sure everything was ready for Steve. He made sure their home was ready.

And, when Steve does come home, all Eddie feels is love.

"Welcome home," Eddie says, leading him into their trailer.

"Oh, it's perfect," Steve whispers.

Eddie can hear the genuine awe in his voice. He grabs Steve, turning him around so he can finally see the expression too.

"You're so beautiful," Eddie says. "God, I missed you so much."

Steve practically throws himself at Eddie, their teeth clashing harshly with how hard Steve kisses him.

"Fuck," Steve groans, holding Eddie's face in both his hands. "You really waited for me all this time- Eds, God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. I love you, more than anything, baby. You're worth the wait, you're so worth it."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

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mayfieldss · 4 months

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Oooo for Secret santa can I please request a Carmy x fem!reader where he proposes on Christmas?

Our boy is stressed

Carmen was not in any way calm. He was trying to be, but in his mind there were a thousand possible things that could go wrong. He'd never been afraid of the word no—he didn't like it, but he wasn't afraid of it—but today, he was terrified.

He had a ring in his pocket, simple and elegant, picked with the helped of Sugar, and she'd promised Carmen that you would say yes. She said she was sure of it, that nothing was going to go wrong.

You loved him and he loved you. Nothing could break what you had. Except maybe a ring and a question he'd wanted to ask for weeks now. He knew asking you to marry him on Christmas would either make or break the special day, and considering how bad Berzatto Christmas day's had been in the past, Carmen really didn't want anything to make it worse. Like you saying no for example. But maybe, if you said yes he could ignore everything else crashing down around him, because he would have you, and the knowledge that he would get to be your husband.

He'd woken up early that morning and snuck out of bed to prepare the scene, but the more he looked at it, it all seemed too much. Would he scare you off with the roses he'd placed in a vase on the table, or with the gingerbread scented candle he'd lit that morning?

When you woke up though, stepping groggily into the kitchen for coffee, you seemed happy.

"Merry Christmas, Carm." You mumbled as you came in for a good morning kiss. The small peck left him feeling flushed on the cheeks even though it was a common enough occurrence, and when you turned to see the flowers on the table a smile lit up your features.

"For me?" you whispered in delight and Carmen gave you a gentle nod, following you to the flowers with his hand placed softly against your back.

"Only if you want 'em." he jokes, and you grin over your shoulder as you pull one of the roses from the vase, inhaling deeply.

"Thank you." You coax him forward to give him another kiss, showing him just how much you appreciate the gesture. Carmen feels fulfilled for a moment, and the stress leaves him as he digs his fingers into the flesh below your hips. He thinks maybe he can convince you to stay like this the whole day, and you can, together, ignore the madness of Christmas from everyone else's perspectives. But he knows that isn't possible, that you have to go see your family, and then his to keep the peace. The peace is important.

He cooks you breakfast and you eat together, in no rush as the morning drags by, and when Carmy finally convinces you to head to the lounge so he can give you a gift or two, it's almost midday.

"Me first," You say, picking up a gift with "Carmy" written on it in scribbled letters. You hand it to him gently, cautious as if you're afraid he won't like it. He takes it from you just as softly, and you shuffle closer, legs crossed on the couch beside him.

When he opens the gift, its a hand decorated frame, a picture of you and Carmen standing outside the restaurant placed behind the glass. It's simple but it warms his heart, and he reaches out for you, tugging you into his side.

"I love you, baby." he mutters against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. There's a wide smile on your lips when he pulls back to look at you, and a hopeful glimmer in your eye.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course I like it. I love it."

He hands you a gift, which as you unwrap it, is a pathetic box of heart shaped chocolates, but you smile and thank him anyway, not caring about the gifts at all. He gets from you a denim jacket, new and unique, and finally the time comes for him to face his fears.

"I've got one more thing," He says, clearing his throat nervously, "Well, it's more a question than a thing, I don't know, fuck, you'll see." He can feel the weight of the ring in his pocket and he wonders how he should do this. In the movies they always get down on one knee, hold up the ring like it's a crown waiting to be worn, but to Carmen that doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like you and him.

He sits on the couch facing you, legs crossed and mimicking your position until you're looking at each other in something kind of like a trust exercise. You're grinning as Carmen sits anxious in front of you and the eye contact makes you snort a quiet laugh.

"What is it?" You ask, poking his knee affectionately.

"I uh, fuck." Carmy reaches into his pocket, and now there's no turning back. You're looking at him expectantly, a little nervous yourself with how much anxiety is radiating from his being. When you see the small box in his hand, the navy blue velvet square makes your eyes widen. "I love you. I know I don't say it enough but I do, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you'll let me." He opens the box, gently, presenting you with the ring inside. "Will you marry me, baby?" His voice is shaky and he watches as your hands come up to cover your mouth in shock, eyes flickering from the ring in front of you to Carmen's face in disbelief.

"Yes, I'll fucking marry you, oh my god!"

Before Carmen can think of putting the ring on your finger you're leaping into his lap, wrapping him up in the tightest hug ever as you both tumble off the couch from the force of your embrace. He doesn't have time to say anything either, because you're kissing him like a madwoman, you're excitement clear.

"Merry fucking Christmas." Carmy mumbles when he can finally get a word in, holding you tight against his body.

I hope you like it! thanks for joining in the celebration!

CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @diorrfairy @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique @kpopgirlbtssvt

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