Tumgik
#really coming to love the idea of those two realizing they can have it all…with each other as an unstoppable power couple
whytheylosttheirminds · 18 hours
Text
I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
Tumblr media
Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
Tumblr media
Prologue
Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 
He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.
“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”
A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 
Chapter One
You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.
party at cameron’s tonite !!
It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.
“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.
You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.
There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.
Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 
You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.
You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 
As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.
Four years earlier…
The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.
A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.
“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.
“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”
You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.
“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.
“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.
Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 
You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.
You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.
Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 
“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.
Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 
You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.
“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”
“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.
“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.
“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  
He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.
“Just reach over,” he directed you.
“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”
“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.
Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.
“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.
He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”
The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.
“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.
“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.
“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.
Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.
You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.
“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.
Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.
“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.
Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.
“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.
You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”
It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.
“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”
Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 
“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.
You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 
“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”
A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.
Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”
Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.
“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”
“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.
“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”
Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.
“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”
“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”
“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.
“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 
He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.
You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.
“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”
You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.
“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”
He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.
“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”
“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.
“Good.”
Now…
The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.
You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.
“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.
Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.
The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 
“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”
“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.
There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.
“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 
“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.
“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”
The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.
He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.
Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.
Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.
to be continued
Tumblr media
a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)
409 notes · View notes
03jyh23 · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— shooting stars!  || park seonghwa
loosely inspired by the drama shitting stars!
Most people aren’t interested in the truth. They just casually gossip to entertain themselves. No one takes responsibility for the caused pain.
idol!seonghwa x prmanager!reader
genre: angst, fluff, smut
trigger warnings: vanilla sex, honestly there's not much just kissing, touching, and... lovemaking. really soft smut. it's embarrassing, jealousy, argument, emotional distress, career-related stress, and difficult decisions
words: 8.2 k
reminder: what you're about to read is purely fiction, so let's keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! this is my longest story so far! i've been working on it like crazy for the past few days and here we finally are. so the smut... it's not really a smut but still? i tried oh god, i feel so embarrassed but yeah i just decided to go for it. it's again requested work but i actually changed some of it to fit into my idea... anyway thank you so much for requesting!
love, monika. ♡
if you enjoyed this post, i'd be so grateful for a little love – a like or comment would truly make my day!
The office in Mapo-gu, Seoul, felt stiflingly hot, despite having already downed three cups of iced coffee. With the air conditioning out of order and repairs not scheduled until two days later, you found yourself drowning in a sea of work. Who would have imagined that working at a medium-sized entertainment agency would entail such an overwhelming workload? You should have felt grateful for landing this job, considering the effort you had put into securing it, but at times, it felt overwhelmingly demanding. Being the head of the PR department at KQ Entertainment was certainly something to boast about, especially after ATEEZ's success. You joined the company a few years back when you were the sole member of the PR team. If you claimed you believed in the company's success from the beginning, you'd be lying. When you first entered, fear outweighed optimism regarding the future. Indeed, it was no small feat for eight teenage boys to shoulder the weight of an entire company, but ATEEZ rose to the challenge with unwavering determination and passion. Now, with two active bands under KQ's wings, you find yourself constantly occupied.  
Managing the members of ATEEZ was undoubtedly a challenging task, and surprisingly, it wasn't due to any misbehavior on their part. Despite their young age and the temptations that come with fame, the ATEEZ members remained remarkably grounded and focused on their careers. You truly admired that. But when a band from such a small company starts gaining momentum, rumors are bound to circulate. Your main priority was to prevent those rumors from leaking. Which wasn't easy, as people can be cruel when they're envious. But still, to this day ATEEZ has not been involved in any major scandals, which made you proud.  
In a small company like KQ, everybody knows each other. Initially, stepping into that environment, you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous around the members of ATEEZ. Their presence seemed to exude a magnetic energy that was both captivating and intimidating. As you interacted with them more and more, you realized that their aura was indeed something special. Each member brought their own unique charm and personality to the table. You and the members of ATEEZ grew slightly closer than others, due to your similar ages, but it was Seonghwa who stood out to you the most. His effortless humor, kindness, and genuine care for others made him a favorite. Right from the start, you felt drawn to him. However, you maintained a professional demeanor, knowing all too well the potential consequences of getting too close, especially considering his status as an idol. But at some point, company dinners and parties became regular occasions, where you celebrated each of ATEEZ’s success together. And as the alcohol in your system increased, your professionalism decreased. Your bond with Seonghwa deepened, you found yourself drawn to him more than ever before. Whether it was sharing drinks, engaging in playful games, or simply relishing heartfelt conversations over company dinner, you cherished every moment spent in his company. With each passing interaction, your admiration for him grew, and before you knew it, you were falling head over heels for him. Despite the looming fear of crossing a line you couldn't return from; you couldn't resist him. What started as a professional relationship evolved into something much deeper and more profound. The shy touches and lingering glances exchanged between you spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words alone couldn't express. In the midst of loud music and bustling crowds, you found yourselves leaning closer to each other, seeking solace in the warmth of each other's presence. His hand naturally gravitated to your waist whenever you stood side by side, a silent yet undeniable declaration of the connection you shared. 
The day had been long and exhausting, and you were just about ready to call it quits when the sudden intrusion of your boss jolted you from your thoughts. Startled, you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, a look of excitement and urgency written across his face. 
"Y/N! Have you heard?" he exclaimed; his voice filled with anticipation. You blinked in surprise, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you leaned forward in your chair.  
"Heard what?" you asked, curiosity piqued. Your boss couldn't contain his grin as he delivered the news.  
"ATEEZ just sold out an entire US Tour!" The words hung in the air, sinking in slowly as you processed their significance. And then, without warning, a surge of elation washed over you, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, a joyful scream escaping your lips. 
"What?" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. Without a second thought, you rushed forward, enveloping your boss in a tight hug, overcome with happiness at the incredible news. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a testament to the hard work and dedication of everyone involved in ATEEZ's journey. The exhaustion of the day melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment. The excitement in your boss's voice was contagious as he patted your back, a wide grin spreading across his face.  
"We are celebrating tonight!" he declared with enthusiasm, his words echoing through the office. A surge of anticipation raced through you at the prospect of celebrating ATEEZ's incredible achievement.  
"Absolutely!" you replied eagerly, already picturing the party ahead. With a playful wink, your boss continued,  
"So go back to your place, doll up, and I'll see you here at 7 sharp!" You nodded enthusiastically, a smile stretching from ear to ear.  
"You got it!" You exclaimed, already mentally planning your outfit for the evening. As you made your way out of the office, the excitement of the impending celebration filled you with renewed energy. With a spring in your step and a heart full of anticipation, you packed up your belongings and bid farewell to the office for the day. The thought of celebrating ATEEZ's success and the prospect of finally seeing Seonghwa filled you with an infectious excitement that bubbled within you. As you made your way through the bustling streets, the anticipation only grew stronger. The familiar sights and sounds of the city seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the promise of the evening ahead. Tonight was a night for celebration, a chance to toast to ATEEZ's success and revel in the joy of being surrounded by friends and colleagues. But above all else, it was a night to be reunited with Seonghwa, and you couldn't wait to see where the evening would take you. With a smile on your face and excitement in your heart, you pushed open the door to your apartment.  
After a quick shower to freshen up and wash away the cares of the day, you set about styling your hair and applying my makeup with meticulous care. With the luxury of extra time on your hands, you paid attention to every detail to ensure that you looked and felt your best for the evening ahead. After finishing your make-up, you reached out for your phone resting on the nightstand, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Seonghwa's name flashing on the screen. A surge of excitement coursed through you as you answered the call, eager to hear his voice after what felt like an eternity apart. 
"Hello?" You said, your voice tinged with anticipation as you brought the phone to your ear, butterflies dancing in your stomach. 
"Hey, it's me," Seonghwa's voice came through the line, warm and familiar, sending a rush of warmth through you. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,  
"Hi, Seonghwa. I was just thinking about you." There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a soft chuckle.  
"Funny, I was just thinking about you too," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I will see you tonight, right?"  
"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for anything," you replied without hesitation, "We definitely need to celebrate!" 
"Honestly, the only thing that matters is that I will finally see you," Seonghwa's voice came through the phone, filled with warmth and affection. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you replied,  
"Same here, Seonghwa. I've missed you." And as you exchanged a few more words of affection and excitement, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to be reunited once more. With a renewed sense of anticipation and joy, you ended the call, a sense of warmth and happiness lingering in your heart. Tonight was going to be a night to remember, and you couldn't wait to see Seonghwa's smiling face once more. 
Choosing the perfect outfit for the evening was challenging. On one hand, you wanted to look your best – to make a memorable impression on Seonghwa after being apart for so long due to his overseas schedule. But on the other hand, you didn't want to appear overdressed or out of place at the party. After rummaging through your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on something. Opting for a timeless and sophisticated look, you selected a classic black shirt for the evening's celebration. Deciding to add a touch of allure to the ensemble, you opted to leave the top few buttons of the shirt undone, revealing a hint of skin. It was a small gesture, but it added just the right amount of intrigue to the outfit. Paired with a simple black skirt that hit just in the middle of your tights, the combination was effortlessly sexy. The monochromatic palette created a sleek and cohesive look that was eye-catching. With a few carefully chosen accessories – a delicate, gold necklace, a pair of understated earrings, and a sleek clutch – you completed the outfit. As you admired your reflection in the mirror, a sense of excitement washed over you. Tonight was going to be a night to remember. 
You entered the company building, the air was filled with electric energy, a tangible sense of excitement pulsating through the air. Everywhere you looked, you could see signs of preparation – colorful balloons swaying gently in the breeze, banners hanging from the walls, and a festive atmosphere that filled the space with warmth and joy. A smile spread across your lips as you took in the sight before you, feeling a surge of excitement building within you. It was clear that everyone had gone to great lengths to ensure that tonight's celebration would be a night to remember, a fitting tribute to ATEEZ's incredible achievement. With each step you took, the anticipation continued to build, fueled by the excitement of finally being reunited with Seonghwa and the rest of the ATEEZ members. After exchanging greetings with everyone and soaking in the festive atmosphere, you found yourself nestled in a cozy corner of the room, a drink in hand. As you scanned the bustling room, your heart skipped a beat with each familiar face that passed by, hoping to catch sight of Seonghwa among the crowd, but he was nowhere to be found.  
"Y/N!" As you heard your name called from across the room, you turned your head in the direction of the sound. Through the sea of people, you spotted a familiar face. 
"San!" You greeted him enthusiastically as he approached, a genuine smile spreading across your face at the sight of him. San was always such a warm and friendly presence, and you were genuinely glad that he had come over to you. "Congratulations!" you exclaimed as San pulled you in a warm hug. With a smile, you pulled back from the hug, meeting his gaze with genuine happiness in your eyes. "I'm so happy for you, San," you said sincerely, knowing that his success was well-deserved.  
"It's truly incredible," San replied, a smile tugging at his lips as he raised his glass to clink it against yours. The sound of glass meeting glass echoed through the room, a toast to success. "It's moments like these that make all the hard work worth it," San said, you nodded with agreement. "Here's to many more successes and celebrations to come." with a smile, you took another sip of your drink, savoring the moment and feeling grateful for the opportunity to share it with a friend like San. 
''Y/N! You look amazing!' You didn't notice when Hongjoong approached you, 
"Thank you!" You replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. Before you could react, Hongjoong took your hand and spun you around gently, causing laughter to bubble up from within you. His eyes scanned you appreciatively, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks under his gaze. It was a simple gesture, but it filled you with a sense of happiness.  
"Am I interrupting something?" As the question hung in the air, you turned your gaze away from Hongjoong and met Seonghwa's eyes, feeling a rush of emotions wash over you. His presence seemed to fill the room, drawing you in with an intensity that was both exhilarating and unnerving. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes, a silent exchange passing between you both. In that moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you standing there, caught in a moment. 
"No, not at all," you replied, as you tore your gaze away from Seonghwa's, turning back to face San and Hongjoong. "We were just catching up." your mind remained fixed on Seonghwa, unable to shake the feeling of his presence lingering in the air.  
"I was just telling her how amazing she looks tonight," As Hongjoong's words filled the air, a warm smile spread across your face at his kind gesture. It was a small reassurance amid the tension that lingered between Seonghwa and you, 
"Thank you, Hongjoong," you replied with genuine gratitude, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back to face Seonghwa once more. His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts lay behind Seonghwa's gaze. 
''We will leave you two alone and say hi to the rest of the team.'' San spoke, as he took Hongjoong by his arm, and pulled him behind. 
"Of course," you replied, nodding in understanding as San and Hongjoong made their way towards the rest of the team. They disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension. 
“I don’t like the way they look at you” Seonghwa's words hung in the air, breaking the silence with a weight that you couldn't ignore. His voice was soft, tinged with a hint of concern that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and curiosity at his sudden confession.  
"What do you mean?" you asked. There was a depth to his words that hinted at something more, and you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to elaborate. Seonghwa sighed, his expression troubled as he struggled to find the right words.  
"I mean... I just don't like the way they look at you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. His admission caught you off guard, and you were at a loss for how to respond. "It drives me crazy." As he downed his drink in one swift motion, you could see the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.  
"Seonghwa, are you... jealous?" you asked tentatively, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widened at your question, and for a moment, he was speechless. 
"Jealous?" Seonghwa repeated, seemingly taken aback by your question. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the answer himself. After a moment of silence, he let out a soft chuckle, his gaze dropping to his hands. "Maybe I am," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The intensity of his confession made your heart flutter, and a blush crept up your cheeks. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, a sign of his nervousness that you had come to recognize. 
"I just... I care about you, you know?" He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an emotion that you hadn't seen before. It was a look of protectiveness, of possessiveness, but also of vulnerability. And in that moment, you realized that perhaps Seonghwa's feelings ran deeper than you had initially thought. Your moment was abruptly interrupted by someone calling his name from across the room. Your heart sank slightly, realizing that you wouldn't have the opportunity to delve deeper into the conversation. Seonghwa glanced at you apologetically, his expression filled with regret. 
"I'll be right back," he promised, his voice tinged with disappointment. You nodded in understanding, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering questions in your mind.  
"Take your time," you replied, watching as he made his way through the crowd, his figure disappearing into the throng of people. Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder about the true meaning behind Seonghwa's words. His confession had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within you, and you longed for the chance to delve deeper into it. But for now, all you could do was wait, hoping for the opportunity to continue your conversation when the time was right.  
As the night wore on, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of conversations and celebrations, the opportunity to continue the conversation with Seonghwa slipping further and further away with each passing moment. Seonghwa seemed to be caught up in the festivities as well, pulled in different directions by the demands of the evening. Despite your best efforts to find a moment alone with him, the bustling atmosphere of the party made it difficult to carve out the time for a private conversation. Seonghwa was constantly surrounded by friends and colleagues, and you found yourself pulled in different directions as well, engaging in lively discussions and catching up with the rest of the team.  
The atmosphere in the company was quiet, with only the faint echoes of the recent party lingering in the air. As the party slowly wound down and the last of the guests trickled out of the door, you found yourself alone in the room, left to clean up the aftermath. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached, and you turned to find Seonghwa lingering in the doorway.  
"Can I help you clean up?" he asked, his voice gentle and earnest. You nodded, appreciating his offer of help and the chance to speak with him once again. 
"Of course, thank you, Seonghwa." You replied, welcoming his company. Together, you started to pick up the scattered cups and plates, the silence between you comfortable yet filled with anticipation. Seonghwa worked diligently, making quick work of the mess. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring his focus. When he finished, he looked up and met your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. 
"It's much easier with two people," he commented, breaking the silence. You agreed and thanked him again for his help. The room was now clean, but neither of you made a move to leave. Seonghwa finally broke the silence.  
"About what I said earlier," he began, hesitating slightly. You nodded, indicating that you were listening. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he continued. "I meant what I said. I care about you... more than I probably should." His words echoed in the empty room; the atmosphere suddenly heavy. You looked at him, surprised by his confession but also relieved. His feelings mirrored your own, and you found yourself smiling at him. 
"I care about you too, Seonghwa," you replied, his face lit up at your words, and for the first time that evening, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 
"Can I kiss you?" His words sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, and without hesitation, you reached out to gently cup his face in your hands. 
"Yes," you whispered, Seonghwa’s eyes twinkled with happiness at your answer. You could feel your heart pound against your chest in anticipation. Seonghwa’s touch was gentle yet commanding as he pulled you closer by your waist, drawing you into his embrace with a magnetic force that was impossible to resist. As his touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, your body reacted instinctively, responding to the electrifying sensation with an intensity that took your breath away. Every nerve seemed to ignite with a fiery spark as his fingertips grazed your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensation. Seonghwa's lips were warm and soft against yours, each gentle brush sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. The moment his lips met yours, everything around melted away. All you could feel was him; his lips on yours, his heartbeat echoing your own. The kiss was soft, tender, filled with all the emotions that had been building up between you. With each press of Seonghwa’s lips against yours, you felt yourself melting into his touch, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his embrace. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, a steady rhythm echoing the urgency of the desire that coursed through you. With each caress, your senses were heightened, attuned to every nuance of his touch. It was as if a spark had been ignited within you, setting your entire being ablaze with a fierce longing that threatened to consume you whole.  
"Seonghwa, we shouldn't," you whispered breathlessly against his lips as you pulled away, a pang of hesitation gnawing at your heart.  
"Why not?" He murmured, his breath hitching as he stared at you with a look of surprise and confusion. His words resonated within you, forcing you to confront the fear that had been lingering at the back of your mind. You swallowed hard, your mind wrestling with the feelings that had been building up inside you. 
"You're an idol, Seonghwa, and I... I work for your PR team," you started, your voice barely a whisper. You watched as the confusion in his eyes shifted to understanding, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. "The rules... the... the consequences," you stuttered, your heart pounding as you tried to put your fears into words. "We could get caught... I could lose my job... and it could ruin your career." For a moment, Seonghwa was silent, absorbing your words. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his feelings and the harsh reality of the world you both lived in. But then, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. 
"I understand," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest. "But I can't help how I feel about you. We'll figure this out... together." You tried to say something, to voice the concerns still swirling in your mind, but Seonghwa shook his head and placed a finger on your lips.  
"Shhh... I've waited too long for this," he murmured, and before you could respond, he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left no room for argument. His touch was electrifying, his lips hungry and insistent against yours, and you found yourself returning his fervor with equal intensity. There was no gentleness, no tender caresses. Instead, your kiss was raw and unbridled, fueled by a primal hunger that threatened to consume you both. With each brush of your lips, the barriers that had once held you back crumbled, giving way to an overwhelming surge of desire. In the heat of the moment, there was no room for hesitation or doubt. All that mattered was the fiery connection that blazed between you, igniting a flame that burned brighter with each passing second. And as you lost yourselves in the intoxicating rush of passion, you knew that there was no turning back. As the world around you melted away, you found the courage to voice the words that had been on the tip of your tongue.  
"Let's go to my place," you breathed out, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his response. Seonghwa looked at you, a slight surprise in his eyes. Then a slow smile spread across his face, transforming his features into a look of pure happiness.  
"I'd love to," he replied, his voice husky. You reached out, gently grasping Seonghwa's wrist and pulling him to follow you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was a glimmer of excitement mirrored in their depths. With a sense of urgency, you swiftly took your purse. Every movement was propelled by a heady mix of anticipation and desire, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rapid pace of your thoughts. As you made your way to the back door, Seonghwa paused for a moment, reaching for his jacket, glasses, and a mask before stepping outside. You were struck by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. In that simple gesture, you saw a glimpse of the considerate and caring person he was beneath the surface. With a soft smile, you followed, grabbing your own jacket and slipping on a mask before joining Seonghwa outside. The cool night air greeted you as you stepped onto the pavement, wrapping you in its embrace. Feeling the warmth of Seonghwa's hand intertwining with yours sent a jolt of electricity. With your fingers intertwined, you set off together, following the familiar way that would lead you to your apartment. You couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude as you made your way through the quiet streets, it was a relief to know that your apartment was only a short distance away from the company. 
As soon as the door to your apartment closed behind you, Seonghwa pulled you hard into his chest, your bodies pressing on each other. His kisses became more urgent, his grip on you tighter as if he was afraid you would disappear. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless, his taste intoxicating, leaving you wanting more. In this moment, there was no room for remorse or second thoughts, only the overpowering need for each other. You were lost in him, in the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his taste, his scent. As the intensity of your shared passion escalated, Seonghwa moved to unbutton your shirt, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. 
"Wait," you murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and filled with desire, but he stopped at your words, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he waited for you to continue. "I... I just want to make sure we're both on the same page," you said softly, voice trembling slightly with the weight of the moment. "I care about you, Seonghwa, more than I can put into words. But I want it to mean something, for both of us." As you spoke, you searched his expression for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was a profound sense of understanding and respect. In that moment, you were sure that Seonghwa shared your desire for something deeper, something more meaningful than just physical intimacy. His lips curved into a tender smile, and he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand.  
"I understand," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want this to mean something too, Y/N. More than anything. I’m not leaving you." With those words, the last of your doubts melted away, leaving only a sense of trust and connection between you. His touch, careful and loving, trailed down your body, taking the time to appreciate every inch of you. Seonghwa’s fingers traced over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. He took his time, his hands exploring you as if he was memorizing every curve, every line of your body. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands. He let out a soft groan, his hot breath fanning against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours again, stealing your breath away with the intensity of the kiss. His hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it aside. His gaze was full of admiration and desire as he looked at you, his eyes taking in your form.  
"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with emotion. You blushed, a smile spreading across your lips at his words. Seonghwa leaned in, pressing kisses along your neck, collarbones, down to your chest. His hands finally moved to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His touch was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of pleasure through your body. Seonghwa was patient, taking his time to make you feel loved, and cherished. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. You arched into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him closer to where you needed him. "So impatient," Seonghwa commented as he moved back up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. Craving the feel of his skin against yours, your hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. You took a moment to admire him, your gaze trailing over his muscular chest, and the defined abs. Seonghwa was beautiful, every inch of him perfect. You reached out, your fingers tracing over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Seonghwa’s hands roamed your body, the touch igniting a fire within you. He moved lower once again, his lips trailing down your stomach, making you gasp with anticipation. His hands moved to your skirt, unzipping it and sliding it down your legs. Seonghwa’s lips found the skin on your thighs, his hands gently creasing them, each touch sending waves of desire coursing through you. His lips moved up your tight, his lips finding all your sensitive spots, making you arch your back and gasp out his name. You felt his breath dangerously close to your panties, which by now were soaked completely with your arousal.  
"Seonghwa," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you arched your back, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that washed over you. "Not here," you murmured, your voice trembling as looked down on him with a mixture of desire and urgency. "Bedroom... Let's go to the bedroom." Seonghwa, with a deep and magnetic gaze that held you captive, guided you gently towards the bedroom. He led you to the edge of the bed, his hands never leaving your body. Carefully, with an affectionate touch, he laid you down on the soft sheets. Seonghwa's gaze was intense but tender, as if he was committing every detail of you to memory. The look in his eyes held a fervor that was both thrilling and comforting. The last piece of your clothing was slowly discarded, your lace panties landing softly on the floor. His hands, now free to explore, traced a path of heat down your bare body, each touch igniting a spark of anticipation. He kissed you deeply, a promise of more to come, before his eyes met yours once more. Seonghwa's gaze was full of adoration and hunger, a testament to the intimate connection that was about to deepen. Slowly, Seonghwa began to undress himself, his movements unhurried and deliberate. As the last piece of his clothing dropped to the floor, he positioned himself atop you, his bare skin against yours sending tremors of desire coursing through your veins. His eyes continued to hold your gaze, their depths reflecting the shared anticipation of the intimate moment that was about to unfold. 
"Is this alright?" Seonghwa whispered against your lips. 
"Yes," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Yes, Seonghwa... I'm yours." Your affirmation seemed to ignite something within him. A slow, intoxicating smile spread across his face, his dark eyes twinkling with a mixture of love, desire, and a hint of possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine. His gaze never wavered from yours, maintaining eye contact as he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a searing, passionate kiss. One of his hands, tender and firm, cradled your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheeks. With the other one he steadied himself between your legs, and you finally felt him entering you slowly and gently, his movements measured and full of care. The feeling was intoxicating, overwhelming in its intensity but filled with a tenderness that only Seonghwa could provide. As Seonghwa moved, you felt a surge of pleasure that left you gasping, your fingers trailing over his back, your nails gently digging into his skin. His name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper, the syllables intertwining with the soft moans and gasps that filled the room. Each thrust heightened the pleasure, building up tension that had you moaning his name louder. He responded to your every sound, his movements shifting and adapting to your responses. It was as if he was attuned to every part of you, each touch designed to elicit the maximum pleasure. 
"Seonghwa," you moaned, as he continued to move, his rhythm steady and deliberate. He looked down at you, his gaze filled with love and desire, his expression mirroring the pleasure coursing through you. "I’m close" you whimpered as the pleasure started to overwhelm you. 
"I know, baby," he responded, his voice low and soothing. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze as the room around you both seemed to fade. Each of his movements were measured, calculated to draw the maximum response from you. He knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and he wasn't afraid to take his time in delivering it. Seonghwa was completely in tune with your body, knowing just how to touch you, how to move, to bring you to the edge. A gasp escaped your lips as his rhythm increased, the intensity building as he moved. His name was a whispered prayer on your lips, the only word you could manage as you clung to him. The world around you narrowed to the feeling of him, the sight of him, the sound of him, the scent of him. 
"Let go baby," he murmured against your ear, his voice a soothing balm, grounding you in the moment. With a few more deep movements, he guided you both to the peak of your shared pleasure. The feeling was indescribable, a release of tension that left you both panting and gasping for breath. And through it all, Seonghwa was there with you, his gaze never leaving yours, his love and desire for you clear in his eyes. As the waves of pleasure subsided, Seonghwa collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, his heart beating in time with yours as you both lay there in silence, the echoes of your shared climax still reverberating through your bodies. Seonghwa’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, a soothing gesture that eased the lingering tremors racking your body. His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the tenderness of the gesture making your heart flutter. 
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. His concern was palpable, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.  
"More than okay," you assured him, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his sweaty forehead. His answering smile was warm and genuine, a sight that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. 
"Good," he murmured, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His breathing slowly became more regular, his body relaxing as he basked in the afterglow. You laid there, tangled in each other's arms, your heartbeats syncing in the quiet. There was no need for words now, the silence between you was comfortable and familiar. As you drifted off to sleep, his arms tightened around you.  
You were suddenly awakened by the sound of Seonghwa's voice, harsh and irritated, a stark contrast to the gentle tone you had grown accustomed to. His distressed voice pierced the calm tranquility of the early morning as he was on the phone, pacing around the room with furrowed brows, clearly in frustration. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed your phone blinking on the bedside table. Forty-three missed calls. A wave of chilly dread filled you as you unlocked your phone to see the flood of messages and notifications. The first one you clicked on made your heart drop. Pictures of you and Seonghwa, walking to your apartment, your hands intertwined, were plastered all over various media outlets. The headlines screamed about Seonghwa's secret relationship, a shocking revelation that seemed to have hit the fandom like a lightning bolt. The comments section was a whirlpool of emotions - shock, betrayal, and surprisingly, support. As you scrolled through the articles, you could barely register the words. This was your worst nightmare coming to life, the very reason you hesitated to start a relationship with Seonghwa in the first place. Seonghwa finished his call and turned to you, his face unnaturally pale.  
"It's all over the news," he said, his voice barely a whisper. The room felt suffocating as a heavy silence descended upon it, both of you too stunned to utter a word. The reality of the situation was sinking in, unfolding a terrifying scenario that you both had dreaded. Your mind was racing, scrambling to make sense of the situation. All your worst fears were coming to life - the fear of getting caught, of losing your job, and of potentially damaging Seonghwa's career. This was the adverse consequence of your secret relationship, the one you had feared and tried to prevent from the very beginning. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Your anger flared as you dialed your boss's number, your hands shaking as you held the phone to your ear. He picked up on the second ring, his voice tense, 
"You need to do your job and stop this information from spreading," he demanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You felt your heart clench at his words, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you fired back,  
"How am I supposed to do that when I'm the one involved?" The line crackled with tension as you braced yourself for your boss's response, knowing that your conversation was about to take a heated turn. 
"You're involved!?" His voice was sharp, laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. "How could you let this happen, Y/N? Do you have any idea what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into?" His words hit you like a slap in the face, and you felt a surge of anger rising within you.  
"I didn't 'let' anything happen," you shot back, your own voice rising with frustration. "This isn't something I planned or wanted. And as for the mess, believe me, I'm well aware of it." There was a tense pause on the other end of the line, the silence filled with unspoken accusations and bitter recriminations. You could practically feel your boss's disappointment radiating through the phone, a heavy weight pressing down on you with each passing second. 
"We need to contain this," he said finally, his tone clipped and businesslike. "Handle the damage control on our end, write a press release. Stay out of the public eye, keep your head down, and for god's sake, don't make things worse." You clenched your jaw, struggling to keep your emotions in check as you listened to his instructions.  
"And what about Seonghwa?" you demanded, unable to suppress the edge of desperation in your voice. There was another pause, longer this time, as your boss considered his response.  
"Seonghwa knew what he was getting into when he chose this life," he said finally, his voice oddly cold and unsympathetic. "He's a public figure, and he needs to accept the consequences of his actions. Just like you do." The words hung between you, a bitter reminder of the harsh reality you were both facing. As you hung up the phone, a sense of resignation settled over you, knowing that no matter how much you wanted to protect Seonghwa, there were forces at play far beyond your control. Seonghwa, who had been a silent witness to your conversation, finally broke his silence. His sobs filled the room, each one stabbing you like a knife to the heart. You turned to him, your eyes filled with regret and sorrow.  
"I was supposed to be the one protecting you," you said, your voice choked with tears. You could see the pain in his eyes, reflecting your own as you confessed, "This was a mistake. I'm going to get fired, Seonghwa. There's no future for us." His face crumpled at your words, a look of utter devastation replacing his earlier confusion. 
"No, Y/N, please..." he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can't lose you." he retorted, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and despair. His words hit you like a punch to the gut. As the silence settled in the room, you felt a lump forming in your throat. The harsh reality of the situation was too overwhelming to comprehend. The words that had been exchanged between you two still echoed in your ears, haunting you. The room, once filled with love and warmth, now felt cold and distant. The air was heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. Seonghwa, his eyes red and swollen from crying, looked at you. His usual cheerful demeanor was now replaced with a look of sadness and despair. He seemed like a completely different person. Seeing him like this broke your heart even more, the reality of the situation dawning on you. 
"I... I need some time," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He got up from the bed, picked up his clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, numb and silent, as you processed everything that had happened. You felt a sense of guilt wash over you, realizing that your actions had led to this mess. Picking up your phone, you answered the incoming call from one of the reporters.  
"This is a delicate matter, and we are currently fact-checking all the information," you replied, maintaining a professional tone. "We will be releasing an official press statement soon regarding the matter. Thank you for your understanding." 
For the next several minutes, you found yourself answering a seemingly endless stream of phone calls, bombarded with the same questions over and over again. "Who is this girl?" "Is it really Seonghwa?" "Is it official?" With each call, your heart ached a little more, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were the reason behind this mess, and with each question, the weight of your actions became increasingly clear. Seonghwa finally emerged from the bathroom, he was fully dressed, his hair neatly combed back, and his face, although still showing signs of distress, was more composed. He settled down next to you, the distance between you heavy with unspoken tension. You could feel his gaze burning into you, his eyes searching for answers in the depths of your own. But as he heard you denying what happened during countless phone calls, a flicker of hurt flashed across his features, overshadowing the mask of composure he had worn moments before. 
"Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "Why are you doing this? We can't keep pretending like nothing happened." His words cut through the silence like a knife, leaving you speechless in their wake. You could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, demanding honesty in the face of your denial. But as you met his eyes, you saw the pain reflected in their depths, and a pang of guilt surged through you. You had hurt him deeply with your words, and now, as you continued to deny the truth, you were only adding to his anguish. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to meet Seonghwa’s gaze any longer. In that moment, you felt more alone than ever, trapped in a web of lies and deceit from which there seemed to be no escape.  
Once the calls ended, with a heavy heart, you began to draft a press release denying the rumors. As you typed, your mind raced with thoughts of how to properly word your denial, how to ensure that it would put an end to the rampant speculation. Seonghwa, who had been observing silently, finally spoke up, his tone filled with discontent. "Why are you denying it?" he asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and frustration. 
"Seonghwa, we have to," you tried explaining,  
"No, we don't," he retorted, his voice steady and determined. "We don't have to lie. We don't have to hide." 
"Seonghwa, we can't just admit to this. The backlash... it could ruin your career," you argued, your voice tinged with desperation. 
"And what? We lie? We hide?" Seonghwa countered, his voice filled with frustration.  
"We need to think about the consequences. The fans, the company... it's not just us we have to consider." you countered, trying to maintain your composure. 
"I don't care about that," he said, his voice softening. "I care about you. I care about us. I don't want to lie about that." 
"But this isn't just about us. There are other people involved. Our actions have consequences." you responded, your voice breaking slightly. 
"I know that" he said, his tone resolute. "But isn't our relationship worth fighting for?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. As the weight of your situation bore down, you felt the sting of desperation clawing at your heart, driving you to speak words you knew would hurt Seonghwa deeply. 
"What relationship are you even talking about, Seonghwa? We hadn't even had a 'what-are-we' talk, and everything is ruined," you spat out, your voice laced with bitterness and regret. "We kissed less than 24 hours ago, and now we're all over the news." The words spilled out of you like poison, each one laced with the bitter taste of reality. You could see the pain flicker across Seonghwa's face, his eyes clouding with hurt and confusion. But you couldn't stop yourself, couldn't hold back the flood of emotions threatening to consume you. "We need to protect you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "There's no 'us' in this, Seonghwa. It's just you, and your career, and the future you've worked so hard for. I won't let you throw it all away for me." Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you turned away, unable to bear the weight of Seonghwa's gaze any longer. In that moment, you knew that you had hurt him deeply, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret those words. For better or worse, they were the truth, the raw, unfiltered truth that lay at the heart of your impossible situation. 
"You don't get to decide that" Seonghwa replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "You don't get to decide what I throw away or keep. It's my life, my career, my future. And you... you're a part of that, whether you like it or not." His words hung heavy in the air, an undeniable truth that weighed down on your heart. "We're in this together, and I'm not letting you walk away just because you're scared. So, let's face this together. Let's fight for 'us', for our future. Because, in my eyes, there's no 'me' without 'us'." You stared at him, your heart pounding. His words echoed in your mind, raw and powerful. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear. Could you really fight for this? For him? Suddenly, the weight of your decision seemed more significant, more daunting. 
"I... I don't know, Seonghwa," you stuttered, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can do this. If I can put you at risk like that." 
But Seonghwa just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's not for you to decide," he countered gently. "I'm ready to face whatever comes our way. And I want you by my side. So, will you fight with me?" 
188 notes · View notes
buddiebeginz · 3 days
Text
I’ve made posts about this before but I’m gonna keep on about it. Please if you love Buddie (when you have time) you need to be posting about them on every social media platform there is. Also liking and commenting on posts especially ones that are on official 911 accounts like the main ABC one or the actors or when interviews come out.
If ABC posts about Buck/Eddie or Ryan and Oliver you need to remind them in the comments we’re rooting for Buddie. I know Buddie fandom is bigger and louder than B/T fans but I keep seeing them all over. There's no reason that pairing with two eps of build up are getting anywhere near the level of attention as Buddie does.
I’m not saying as fans we have all this power over what is going to happen on the show but we have some sway. It’s part of how bi Buck has even happened. So us being so vocal and supportive of Buddie all these years and even more now while the story is still unfolding matters.
I don't want Tim or anyone else getting the impression that we want T*mmy sticking around any longer than necessary at least not as a love interest.
I know there's been a lot of talk about how the show needs take their time and build Buddie's story if they're going canon and I know some want Buck to be with T*mmy so Buddie can have that slow burn towards getting together. While I do think it's important that Buddie's story is not rushed and handled with care that fact is we really have no idea how many seasons the show even has. I wish some of you would realize we are not living in the golden age of tv anymore. We are living during a time when tv shows get canceled even when they are successful just as a way for networks to cut costs. It's why Fox canceled 911 before it was moved to ABC.
So as much as I do want the show take all the time in the world with Buddie I also want us to actually get to see them go canon. I also feel like we've been in a slow burn with them for six years especially those of us who have watched the show for its entire run. I want to see the show make some progression in moving Buddie's story further along. I'm not saying I want them to be in a relationship tomorrow, absolutely not. But I do think that moving into season 8 I'd like the show to have given us some kind of canon sign that both men feel something for each other beyond friendship. We know they do but I mean something that can't be taken any other way like say an almost kiss at the wedding for example. I'd also like for Eddie to be dealing with his own sexuality storyline by next season.
Back to T*mmy in all honesty the main reason I don't want to see him sticking around much longer is because of his fans. I'm tired of just how much the B/T fans have taken over our fandom. All the tags even ones on other social media platforms are being overrun by B/T and worse by negativity towards Buddie and Eddie and the complete minimizing of the importance of Buddie going canon. I'm glad that T*mmy has helped Buck with his bi awakening but he is so clearly not meant to be an endgame love interest. I just want to see him gone or have the storyline at least move on to where if he's still on the show it's as a friend for Buck, which I personally think he needs more than a relationship right now. Someone who is queer who can help him navigate this newly discovered part of himself.
28 notes · View notes
the-woman-upstairs · 1 year
Text
Now that we have an episode where Brett reacts negatively to Reagan’s boyfriend, I would LOVE an episode of the reverse happening, where Reagan‘s weird about Brett’s date/girlfriend. Bonus points if she’s very clearly a Reagan doppelgänger and the whole team minus those two are aware of it.
1K notes · View notes
Note
WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes
I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.
Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.
A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.
C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.
Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.
My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.
While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.
To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?
What are these acronyms?
19K notes · View notes
werecreature-addicted · 9 months
Note
i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something
but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up
want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard
werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.
he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.
He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.
Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.
To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.
it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.
He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.
at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.
he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.
it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.
he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.
he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.
3K notes · View notes
carakook · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🎀 A “Coquette” Misunderstanding 🎀
“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
♡Pairings: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
♡Synopsis: Jungkook has been a self proclaimed fuck boy after his last relationship ended fairly messily… until he met you. Started out as fuck buddies, but he always had a huge crush on you. With time, he realized that he’s actually falling in love with you, and he is itching to make you his girl. He knows being a fuck boy means he has to prove himself when it comes to being serious, so he comes up with the perfect gift to give you when he confesses… only for it to turn into the biggest fucking mess.
♡Genre: Romance/Comedy
♡Word count: 5k+
♡Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, mentions of sex, lewd references, lots of talk about penises, talks of being in love (ew!!!), arguing, mentions of alcohol, no smut but this fic revolves heavily around sex, making out, Jungkook is kinda stupid (bless his lil heart), also kind of weird in general? Let me know if I miss anything!
♡Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
♡A/N: This is my first request! I hope whoever requested it likes it, it was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a lil carried away… oops! The request was fuck boy Jungkook falls in love with Y/N, but there’s a misunderstanding that eventually gets resolved and they live happily every after! I have no idea how I came up with this 😭 it’s kinda silly and kinda weird but I think it’s cute. I hope you guys like it. 😅
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Tumblr media
Jungkook finds himself wondering if he can possibly get anymore fucking stupider than he feels right now.
It seems when it comes to you, he simply loses brain cells. He’s not sure what it is about you, but anything involving you short circuits his brain as of late, and he is continuously fucking things up.
Maybe it’s because you’re so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because the way you look at him makes his knees weak. Maybe it’s simply because he’s a man, and men are stupid… Or maybe, it’s because he had the recent revelation that for the first time literal in years, he has caught feelings.
And what’s worse is that he’s realized this isn’t just a little crush. He’s fucking in love with you, and it’s making him forget how to function.
Jungkook doesn’t catch feelings, not since his last relationship ended very messily two years ago. The way the relationship ended left a very bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go back to his college days of being a fuck boy and never falling in love again…
Which was working for some time. It was freeing to be able go back to his old ways; he could enjoy a woman’s body and worship them like the goddesses they are, and then wake up the next day without feeling any obligation… or anything at all, really.
Until you came along.
You had been friends for years, although you were never very close. He always thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, but he also thought you were so out of his league. You weren’t the type of girl to go for fuck boys; you were put together and had very high standards, you knew your worth. He liked that, but never really had the guts to push it because he was sure he didn’t fit those standards.
That is, until one drunken night at one of Jimin’s parties… you flirted with him heavily. It was the biggest fucking ego boost that he ever had. He never assumed you would be interested in him, because his noncommittal habits weren’t a secret. But on this night you were very obviously interested in him. You were being touchy, and sweet, and you just looked so fucking pretty.
This was the first night you slept together, and Jungkook doesn’t like admitting that you unraveled him in a way no other woman had. The sex was mind blowing. He has never felt such intense chemistry with someone before… and fuck, you gave the best head he ever gotten. He was addicted after that, he knew he didn’t want it to be a one time thing.
He didn’t want to make you his girlfriend necessarily, good sex still wasn’t enough for him to consider being with someone seriously again… but he did want to see you again. The next morning he was bashful; made you breakfast, drew you a warm bath with essential oils and pretty smelling soap, and even ordered you a very last minute bouquet of flowers to wake up to.
This alone should have told him that things would be different with you, because although Jungkook always treated a woman with love and care when they gifted him their body for a night, he never went this out of his way to impress them.
He told himself it was because he felt the need to overcompensate. In bed he’s very confident, but out of bed, he’s not as sure of himself… especially with you. He felt lucky to have a night with you, and he knew he needed to put an effort in to keep you interested in him because he wasn’t exactly your type. If he was able to keep you interested, then maybe you’d see him again.
He was right, you didn’t normally go for fuck boys. Casual sex wasn’t exactly your favorite, because men often forget to focus on the woman, too. You weren’t exactly looking for anything serious, but you also weren’t looking to sleep with some guy who only cared about himself in bed. And most hookups you had thus far ended with you less than satisfied.
It was uncharacteristic for you to sleep with guys like Jungkook, or really give them any attention at all. But Jungkook has always been pretty, and he’s always been so fucking sweet… that night at the party, he looked extra appealing to you.
Even then, you weren’t planning on doing it again. The chemistry was undeniably intense, but you weren’t a fan of sharing. There were health risks to sharing partners if one of you weren’t careful, and you didn’t like that it made you question yourself. You tried it before, and it just wasn’t for you. You like exclusivity, and that’s ok. Everyone has preferences and boundaries and not everyone will agree with yours.
This is why you didn’t plan to see him again. But when you woke up and saw all the sweet little things he did for you, you were definitely tempted… what really got to you was how he fucking looked at you; he looked at you like a love sick fucking puppy and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. He was adorable. You’d never been with a man who was so fucking sexy but also so goddamn cute at the same time.
No guy had gone through such trouble after what was supposed to be a one night stand before. It was like he really was a dog; he brought you these little gifts in the form of acts of service in the hopes you would continue giving him head pats. Or, actual head in this case…
And although he wasn’t actually love sick, he definitely was a bit pussy whipped.
Temptation won in the end.
There was no spoken agreement between you two… you just started having sex regularly. And every time it was fucking toe curling. No man took care of your body so perfectly and left you 100% satisfied. But beyond the sex, you both found that you thoroughly enjoyed being around each other. You’d never knew each other well before this, you were mere acquaintances who were familiar with each other because of mutual friends, but you grew closer and got to know each other as time went on, and in the end you kept it going.
Of course you were worried about his reputation, but you didn’t push him or even ask for exclusivity. He never explicitly said that he wouldn’t be exclusive with you, but you started liking him and the sex was enough to let go of that boundary and make an exception for him. You knew he was safe and you knew he would always treat you right. This was enough for you… even if it sometimes bothered you that you didn’t know whether he was sleeping around or not. He wasn’t your boyfriend, just a fuck buddy you grew fond of.
Little did you know, he had no desire to sleep with anyone else. You didn’t even need to tell him these boundaries, because he knew without you telling him. He wouldn’t dare do something to fuck this up. The sex was so good that he didn’t have the want for anyone else, he didn’t even think about it. He still wasn’t quite ready to be serious with someone, but he was content with you in a way that he never had been any of his previous hookups or fuck buddies. He wanted to keep you as long as you’d let him.
A routine started; as time went on you spent more time together, hung out often, and fucked like rabbits. You played with his hair and scratched his back, you picked on him and made fun of him in a way that made him laugh every time, and you knew exactly how to handle him even when he was a bit overwhelming. He was so content with what you both started.
Until recently.
Jungkook started realizing a few weeks ago that maybe having thoughts of an entire future with someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of you for hours… he’d imagine taking you on actual dates, not just little outings disguised as friends hanging out. He’d imagine getting to brag about you being his girlfriend. But what really started to make it obvious was when he imagined what you’d look like in a wedding dress…
Five months in and he realized he’s falling for you. He’s so fucking gone for you, and for once, he’s giddy about it.
You’d both developed this sort of playful relationship. When you weren’t fucking, you were always joking around and making each other laugh. You both had a very crude sense of humor and so many little inside jokes. It was comfortable, and he started feeling like a kid on Christmas Day at the thought of keeping it going forever.
He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you’d be hesitant because of his history. He wanted to do something for you that not only would prove to you he’s serious, but something that was special. He didn’t want to get you a piece of jewelry, or a bouquet of flowers with a card; he wanted it to be something only you would experience. He wanted to go all out for you.
He recalled a conversation you both had one time over dinner at his place while watching a drama. The guy in the drama was proposing to the main character, and it was as cliche as any other drama.
“That’s so cheesy. Why can’t guys be more creative? He’s asking her to spend fucking forever with him, more thought should go into it.”
“Yeah? Well if a guy proposed to you how would you want him to do it then?”
“I dunno… but not like that. Forever is a long fucking time, whoever decides to propose to me better do something more special than a damn ring.”
“But that’s literally what a guy is supposed to do, how else would he do it? You’re supposed to get the girl a ring and get on your knees n’ shit.”
“That’s so cliche though! I dunno, I’d rather something else… like maybe a dildo that was a replica of his dick. Something to the effect of ‘will you ride my dick forever?’”
That conversation ended in laughter of course, because you were only joking… but also, as Jungkook thought back on it, it would be so fucking perfect.
Not only would it show that he remembered the little things, but it would also break the stigma that he created for himself; it would show you that he was serious, he had no desire to be with anyone else sexually emotionally, and it would fit in with your playful dynamic. Like a little inside joke, and although he isn’t asking you to marry him, he wants the message to be clear that he wants to build a forever with you.
So he did some research. He original thought about getting you a dildo that was a replica of his dick, and found that there were DIY kits he could buy to make it himself. But also… why would you need a dildo if you had him? So he researched the more artistic aspect of things and found that there were actually a lot of artists who specialized in making replica sculptures of men and women’s body parts.
He liked this much more, because he felt it was a bit more sentimental and maybe more fitting. He found one artist in particular who’s sculptures and paintings looked very realistic. In their portfolio, they featured some comparisons of the pictures that inspired the sculpture vs. the sculpture they made, and there was barely a difference. They clearly had talent, and he was totally fine dropping however much money to get this done for you.
So he contacted the artist to order a commission. It was a hefty price, because he paid to have the process expedited. He wanted this done as soon as possible because he was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend. But the price was worth it. The artist asked him some questions and listened to his requests. His only request was that it would be life sized, it would have a little pink bow wrapped around it (because you loved cute things, he remembers you called it ‘coquette’ once.), and somewhere it would have ‘Property of Y/N’ on it. The artist was confident that they could have it sculpted, shipped, and delivered by the end of the week. All the artist needed was a picture of his penis for reference.
Awkward, but understandable. It was very professional, obviously if he wanted the sculpture to look like his dick the artist would need a reference photo. This was purely for artistic purposes, it’s not like he was sending nudes or getting off on it. He was doing this for you and he couldn’t fucking wait to see the finished product or hear your little giggles when he presents it to you.
But of course, in his excitement, he fucks up exponentially.
He was supposed to email the photo of his dick to the artist. So he has no fucking idea why after he took the photo, he texted it to you… probably because subconsciously, who the fuck else would he be sending pictures of his dick to? He’s not even the kind of guy to send nudes, but he has a few times with you on nights that you’re both too busy to actually meet up and have sex.
He could’ve just played it off and said something stupid like ‘surprise’, but he immediately panicked because he was afraid you’d figure out what he’s doing. Which is so fucking stupid because how the fuck would you ever guess what he’s doing?
So what does he do instead?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He handled it very poorly, to say the least. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he had no idea why the told you he sent it to the wrong person. It was because it was the truth, that’s why. He didn’t really think anything of it when he admitted he sent it to the wrong person, because he had a clear conscious. Why lie when he has a clear conscious?
He panicked not because he was guilty, but because he was scared that you would catch on and the surprise would be ruined… which is so fucking stupid. Out of everything, you couldn’t possibly guess what he was doing.
He didn’t think about the implications of telling you that it was the wrong person, and it just went downhill from there. He really should have just told you the truth in that moment, but he doubts you would have believed him. The story would seem far fetched at this point because of how vague he was being in the beginning.
And you really didn’t believe him. You trusted Jungkook, but that message reminded you that you aren’t exclusive with him. He isn’t your boyfriend. He has a reputation of being a fuck boy and he’s just your fuck buddy. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he really was messing around with other girls considering he technically has every right to… but it still stung.
If he had come out and admitted it was meant for another girl, you would have probably been a bit bitchy about it, but you wouldn’t have fought with him over it. He has the right to see other people when you both never agreed to only see each other. It was that feeling of being lied to that set you off, you fucking hate being lied to. You have your fair share of history involving men who lie, and although you made an exception on one of your boundaries for Jungkook, you refused to make an exception on being lied to for any man.
And even though he wasn’t actually lying, how the fuck would you have known that? He’s right, if he did send you some elaborate paragraph about what the picture was actually for, and how he just instinctively sent it to you after taking it, you probably wouldn’t have believed him after he denied it so vaguely like he did.
For days he tried to talk to you. He blew up your phone, called and texted hundreds of times, blew up your Instagram notifications, and even started fucking making tweets on Twitter begging you to talk to him and let him explain (dramatic as fuck, his friends made fun of him for it, and he didn’t care because he was desperate.) You ignored him, of course, because deep down you were a bit hurt. You really couldn’t stand the thought that we was sending nudes to someone else, possibly fucking them, and then lying to you about it.
It reminds you as to why you have the boundary of exclusivity… and also makes you realize that maybe you like Jungkook a little more than you thought you did.
He’s a mess. He kept debating whether or not to just show up to your place, get on his knees and beg you to listen to him… but he knew you wouldn’t let him in, not unless he had proof of what actually happened. He feels so goddamn stupid. He could easily show up and show you the email as proof, explain his thought process and what the picture was for, what he was doing, confess that he’s fucking in love with you and wanted to do something to show you how serious he is…
But he decides to give you space. He knows that it’s unlikely you want to listen to him or see him right now, and he needs to let you cool off. By the time the sculpture is delivered, he can show up, explain himself, and do everything as planned.
It’s the longest fucking week of his life. His thoughts are consumed with you and he prays that when he does show up, it isn’t too late, and you’ll let him explain himself.
That you’ll say yes after it’s all said and done.
The next Friday, he receives the package. He nearly fumbles with it as he opens it, wanting to get this shit over with so you guys will be ok again.
Just as expected, it’s perfect. It’s obviously not the exact same as his dick, but it’s pretty fucking close. It looks exactly as you would expect a sculpture of a dick to look like. The bow that was sculpted onto it is perfect, pink and detailed, wrapped between the tip of the sculpted dick and the base. At the very bottom of the base, in tiny cursive letters reads ‘Property of Y/N’. He thinks it’s perfect, and if you find it in yourself to hear him out, he knows you’ll love it. He can already imagine your cheeks getting pink as you giggle at the absurd gesture.
He gets himself ready. He puts on some cologne, brushes his teeth, stares at himself in the mirror a little too long trying to psych himself up. He knows showing up without warning is probably not the best way to go, but he hopes that once you open the door and see him bearing gifts, you’ll be more open to listening to what he has to say.
He makes a stop on his way to your place because he impulsively decides to buy you some flowers and a cute gift box for the sculpture. He’s in a rush because he feels like he’s dying on the inside with you so upset at him. When he gets the flowers, he just stuffs a wad of cash in the florists hand before running back off to his car. He probably overpaid for them… but he doesn’t care.
He makes quick work of putting the sculpture inside of the pink box he picked out, adds a matching pink bow for good measure. Once he’s satisfied, he carefully placed the flowers and the gift box in his front seat, and nearly peels out of the parking lot in a hurry to get to you.
You’ve been sulking all damn week, because you miss him. At first you were pissed, because you swore he was lying, he just had to be. Why else would he be sending dick pics to someone? But as the week went on, you did start to question yourself. Because Jungkook had never given you a reason to not trust him, and despite that fact that neither of you have ever explicitly said it was exclusive… you know that it is.
Because when you’re both in a room full of people, his eyes never stray. When he tells one of his stupid jokes, the first person he looks for a reaction in is you. When he goes to the grocery store, despite you not living together, he always stocks up on your favs. And every morning and every night, no matter what, you are the first and last person he talks to. The little things tell you everything you need to know.
Even now, after he stopped blowing your phone up because you continued to ignore him, he made sure to text you good morning and goodnight.
So why would he lie? Why would he lie when all of the signs are there that you are his sole focus? You may be unaware of how deep his feelings are for you, but the little things show where his loyalties lay.
It’s just so hard to believe him because you can’t possibly fathom who else he could be sending nudes to, and if the reason wasn’t sexual, then why? You don’t exactly send pictures of your genitals to someone for casual or platonic reasons, so…
You’re sitting on your couch watching TV and pouting when he knocks at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you have a feeling it’s him… you debate not answering the door, but in the end you do, because you’re just as irritable without him as he is you.
You open the door and keep a neutral expression on your face, you see him standing there with those same love sick puppy eyes and you nearly fold right then and there.
He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a fairly large pink box with a bow on top. So he came prepared, it seems. You don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the supposed bribe, but you keep an open mind.
“What do you want?” You say cooly… as if you’re not going to let him in anyway.
“Y/N can we please talk? I know you hate me right now, but please just let me explain myself. I swear this is all just a really big and stupid misunderstanding.”
He has no idea what’s going on in your head right now because you seem so calm, so collected. He wishes he could be like you, because if you don’t let him in, he swears he’s gonna cry and bang on your door until you let him. He’s not above throwing a fit at this point.
You stand there for a moment staring at him, making it seem as if you’re skeptical… but really, you just missed his pretty face.
“Fine.”
You open your door for him and he nearly fucking pushes you down when he barges his way in, afraid you’re going to change your mind.
He makes his way to your couch and sits down, pats the spot next to him and sits the gift box down on your coffee table along with the flowers.
“These are for you… open it first.”
You cross your arms and scoff at him, don’t sit down yet. You start to wonder if he’s avoiding actually explaining, wanting to butter you up first so that you’ll be more willing to forgive him.
“What? No, explain why you lied about sending—“
He holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “Dammit, Y/N, open the damn gift first. You need to see it in order for me to explain. Please.”
You huff at him in response, because it’s kinda hot when he talks to you like that… but now is not the time to get hot and bothered. You don’t even know what his supposed ‘explanation’ is or if it’s something you’re willing to forgive.
You do listen to him though, you take a seat on the couch and grab the pink box. You take off the bow, which you love, and you carefully open up the box to reveal…
A penis. Hm.
You take it out and start inspecting it… you don’t know how to feel yet. You’ve been sleeping with him for months, you both know each others bodies very intimately, so you can immediately tell that it is indeed his dick, specifically because of the little heart shaped freckle down the shaft. You notice the bow that’s sculpted into it too, and you find yourself giggling at it without meaning to. Just like he thought you would. The entire gesture makes your cheeks warm. Such an odd fucking gift, but you already love it.
You turn it over, and you see at the base of it right above the testicles of the sculpture, in cute little letters ‘Property of Y/N’.
As weird as it is, you find the gesture so fucking cute… but you also don’t understand it. You don’t understand why he just gave you a coquette sculpture of his dick, what this has to do with the dick pic, and why it says property of Y/N, because that’s a very serious thing to put on a sculpture of his dick that he just have to you.
Before you gush over how much you love the silly thing, you ask wearily, “Ok… but like… what does this have to do with anything?”
Jungkook let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and his heart pounds because he’s so fucking thankful you seem to be open to hearing him out.
He begins explaining hesitantly, “Yeah, right, so umm… lately I’ve been thinking… about us. And I sort of realized that I… like you. Like, a lot. Not just the sex or the whole fuck buddy thing, but I really fucking like you as a person Y/N.”
Now your heart is pounding because you genuinely didn’t expect this confession. Which in return, makes you impatient… because you like him too. But you can’t tell him that until you figure out what the fuck happened with the dick pic and wether or not you need to stop this before it starts, or forgive him, or even apologize for not letting him explain.
“Ok but what does that have to do—“
“I’m getting to that. Just… ugh, shut up, this is embarrassing.”
He looks away from you and starts biting at his lip ring. You feel kinda bad, because he really does look embarrassed about it. But oh, it is so fucking cute…
You nod at him and lean back into the couch, the sculpture in your lap as you silently agree to let him continue and try to keep your impatience in check.
He reluctantly continues, “After realizing this, I wanted to… tell you. Wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I didn’t want to be cliche about it, I remember us talking about it before… so I wanted to do something special… something only for you.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and squeezes his eyes shut, because he starts overthinking a bit. He wanted to to something special for you, so he got a fucking sculpture of his dick made… ridiculous train of thought. Such a fuck boy thing to do.
“I remembered you making a joke about how if a guy proposes, you’d want it to be with something other than a ring… and I’m not proposing! But you know, it’s similar so… yeah. Fuck. Anyway, I did some research and found out that apparently dick sculpting is a type of art? And my dumb ass thought that was perfect…”
He chances a glance at you, looking up from his lashes as he sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. So far, you seem receptive of the story… you don’t seem to be suspicious of him yet. Thank fuck.
“I commissioned an artist to make a sculpture of… my dick. For you. And they needed a picture for reference… it was all very professional. But when I took the picture, I guess I just automatically sent it to you, because I don’t do that shit with anyone else. So I didn’t think. But when I realized I texted it to you, instead of emailing it to the artist… I told the truth because I didn’t think about the implications. And I did a very fucking bad job at attempting to explain when you did start questioning it. That’s my bad…”
It’s slowly starting to make sense. The story is a bit… far fetched. But it’s so far fetched that you highly doubt Jungkook would have gone through the trouble to actually commission an artist and drop who knows how much on this sculpture just to save his ass. It may be a very specific situation, an original experience, if you will… but the proof is in the pudding, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t lying.
“I should’ve just told you what happened but I doubted you’d believe me after how badly I fumbled. So I waited for the damn thing to show up. I can show you the emails back and forth with the artist and stuff too if you want… but Y/N I swear I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I haven’t fucked or even looked at another woman since we started messing around… don’t want to. Only want you. So please believe me.”
He looks at you with pleading eyes, and gives you a small pitiful smile. You do believe him. You really didn’t have any reason not to to begin with, but the miscommunication prevented you from seeing that.
It really was just some very stupid misunderstanding.
You say nothing. Instead, you set the sculpture down carefully, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his face gently, and lean in to kiss him.
Fuck. He missed your lips so bad.
He immediately kisses you back, damn near whines at how good it feels to have you again. To see that you aren’t rejecting his explanation or refusing to trust him, but you’re forgiving him. He kisses you back sweetly, one of his hands coming to the nape of your neck while the other cradles your jaw.
You pull back and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Was stupid of me. Forgive me.”
He smiles so fucking stupidly at this and nudges his nose against yours. He starts peppering your face with little kisses as he says, “Forgive me for being a fucking idiot…”
One last huge smooch to your forehead, and he pulls you into his lap. He feels so much more lighter now that things are cleared up. God, he wants to fucking laugh at how absurd it all is. All week he started to regret ever choosing to get a sculpture made of his fucking penis as a way to ask you to be his damn girlfriend… who the fuck does that?
Him, apparently. And he started wishing he fucking didn’t.
But seeing you now, seeing how you’re smiling at him with the same adoration in your eyes as him, he’s thankful he did it. Sure, was a very odd gift to get you… but it suits your dynamic perfectly. And the way you giggled at it bashfully, he knows you absolutely loved it.
He reaches down and squeezes your ass as you sit on his lap, not trying to initiate anything, just wanting to touch you. He stares at you in silence for a moment, because a week away from your pretty face was far too much.
He flicks his lip ring with his tongue before asking, “So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend then…?”
He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward when he asks, but he’s nervous that you’ll say no because you didn’t really say anything when he explained earlier…
Stupid boy, can’t he see how much you fucking adore him? Of course you’ll say yes.
But even then, you hum in response as your hands reach up to play with his hair, as if you’re mulling it over and considering your options.
“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. Of course he will. Fucking anything you want if that means you’ll be his girlfriend, if you’ll let him love you and fuck you and take care of you for what he hopes is forever. And honestly, the thought of you putting a bow on his dick weirdly turns him on.
You giggle at him, lean in and press your lips against his again. You kiss him once more, a bit more tongue this time just so you can hear him pant and feel his heart beat faster against your chest.
When you finally come up for air, you say against his lips, “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, was nervous you were going to say no. But you didn’t. And he has never felt so fucking excited or proud about something, he swears.
He can actually say that you’re his girl now. Thank god for his coquette dick.
1K notes · View notes
lovelettersfromluna · 3 months
Text
Compass
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: I’ve got something to confess, I keep you in my pocket to use. You’re my only compass, I might get lost with you.
an: let’s ignore the fact that I’ve been gone for a long time, yeah? Hehe. this most definitely is not the fic that I’ve been working on literally the entire time I’ve been gone (that’s coming don’t worry), but I got this idea at 2 in the morning and I had to jump on it IMMEDIATELY. Hope you all like it mwah mwah love you.
Warnings: SMUT!! Minors please for the love of everything that is good, do not interact, modern day vampire!Ellie, semi graphic descriptions of blood and wounds, shy!reader, Ellie bites you a lot, Ellie feeds on you and honestly it’s borderline soft core porn, fingering Ellie!receiving, grinding, mentions of bruises, Ellie is extremely fucking strong, Ellie watches you in your sleep/can get into your apartment without a key, let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
You aren’t really sure how you and Ellie became friends.
Well, you are, maybe a better question would be why you two became friends. You were both so different, you were convinced the first time you met that she hated you. The night filled with quick glances as she damn near avoided speaking to you like you were the fucking plague. It took you a bit to not take it too personally, reminding yourself that you weren’t for everyone, and that was okay! So what if the mutual friend didn’t like you…it wasn’t the end of the world.
So, it came to a surprise to you when a few nights after meeting Ellie passed, you had not one, not two, but three of your friends texting you and asking you if it was okay if they gave her your number…
Because she’d asked for it.
And suddenly you’re texting each other every day, and well into the wee hours of the night. You know, like one of those friendships. The ones that makes you smile every time you see their name pop up on your phone, or the ones where you send each other stupid videos on TikTok all day just to talk about them on a different messaging platform, because of course you’re interacting with each other every where that you have a presence.
Ellie becomes your best friend before you even realize it, and it makes you realize that maybe she didn’t dislike you as much as you thought before.
It always did confuse you a bit in the beginning how you two got along so well. You were both so different from one another. Ellie was a party animal, you were a home body. Ellie was up late at night, you were up early in the morning. If Ellie was the moon, then you were the sun. Polar opposites coming together to find a home in one another, the most unusual pairing stuck by the hip from that point on.
You of course, kept all each other’s secrets. You’d learned very early on that no one really knew much about Ellie, which you simply chalked up to her being a private person. However, she seemed eager to tell you any and everything about her. Like her dad, she’d talk about him all the time, you figured on early on that she really loved him. Or whenever she had a a new fling going, you’d be the first to know of course. She’d even told you about the time she threw away her dad’s playboy magazine after stealing it from him, which she swore she’d never told a soul.
She wanted to know all about you too! Your favorite color, favorite animal, childhood crush, family relationships. Truthfully? If you weren’t so oblivious, you would’ve seen a long time ago that Ellie was the slightest bit obsessed with you.
But you loved her, and you trusted her with your life, so you told her everything! Because you didn’t keep things from each other.
So, on a night out with everyone else, Ellie disappears, and of course you try to look for her, asking around only to be told that everyone saw her leave. Going outside to make sure she’s okay is the only logical thing to do, right? You have to make sure she’s okay.
What you don’t expect though, is when you look down a dark alleyway a few buildings down from the club you’re at, and spot the tall figure of your friend tucked into the brick wall of the dark corner, shielding way whatever it is that’s behind her. You call out for her, and when she turns around you gasp.
Because her eyes were red, and not red like you haven’t gotten any sleep, or you’ve been crying, the green of her eyes are now red, bloodshot red, and she’s holding a lifeless body in her tattooed arms…and there’s blood covering her pink lips, dripping down her chin.
Yeah, Ellie was a vampire.
Tumblr media
You let out a gentle yawn as your hand went down to grab the remote control to your tv, your other hand coming up to rub your eyes a bit, a sorry attempt at trying to wake yourself up enough to get from the couch to go to your bed.
You pouted softly, lazily bringing your phone up to check the time before you sighed, finally finding the strength in you to push yourself up off the couch to leave your living room.
Work had been absolutely plowing you into the ground, your publicist constantly hounding you to keep working on the most recent installment of your book series. It was just so fucking hard, everytime you sat down in front of your computer, it was like writing your own book was the last thing you wanted to do.
It was draining you, and it felt like every time you finished a set of chapters, your brain was complete mush.
The upside though, was that it tired you out enough to completely knock out once you were in bed.
A gentle sigh left your lips once your head hit your soft pillow, plush blankets wrapping around your body, sliding down your bare legs and making you feel absolutely blissful. You couldn’t even stop yourself from the soft smile on your lips as your eyes grey heavy, the low lighting in your room making you feel all the more cozy, all the more warm.
You were out in seconds, soft snores leaving your sleeping body as you entered a world of dreams, escaping reality for a few measly hours before you were bombarded with the real world around you in the morning.
Ellie was on the other side of town, or at least, leaving the other side of town. It was late, and while she did love to be a creature of the night, there was something that sounded much more inviting than a glass of whiskey and a cigarette.
You, of course.
You were Ellie’s kryptonite, the single thing in this entire fucked up world that convinced her there was something worth living for, in her case, existing for. You were so fucking good, so sweet, so forgiving of literally everything. There were too many times that Ellie recalled where she wasn’t even sure you were real, perhaps another mythical creature much like herself, sent to this world to lure others into a trap that was just as filthy and terrible as the rest of the world.
But you weren’t…there were never any cons or secrets that you held, and if you did hold any secrets, you were more than willing to let Ellie in on them. No…no you were different.
God were you different.
Ellie recalls the night she first laid eyes on you like it was yesterday, her cold, dead heart jolting back to life for only a second when she saw you, at least that’s what it felt like. Your smile radiant in the dim, multicolored lights of the club, cheeks shining, eyes twinkling, like an angel sent from above. Ellie almost felt like a being as evil, and sour as she wasn’t worthy of being in the same room as you.
And god…your fucking smell.
Ellie could go on about it for hours. Sure, you were remarkable without it, but it was just the icing on the cake, the twisting of the knife in her chest.
She has mastered the art of walking into a room filled with warm bodies pumped full of blood and while ago, her throat burning with the urge to sink her teeth into her next poor victim. It was easy, annoying, but easy, and she couldn’t really remember the last time she struggled being around anyone, especially friends, or even friends of a friend.
But the second she saw you, your sweet, dulcet smell wafting against her nose, she was transported back in time. Back to a time where she was but a young vampire, clueless of the world around her, of her new life, adapting to something she didn’t even know existed before all of this, without a single guide or a fucking pamphlet for gods sakes.
It made her eyes widen, and she stopped breathing instantly to try and dull the scent of you sneaking into her nostrils and down into her eager throat. She noticed the way you pouted and sighed whenever she’d ignore you, or give her nothing but a brief response whenever you tried to get to know her. She could tell this wasn’t your thing, the night life, partying, you were here because someone asked it of you, and you being the good friend you are would never let anyone you cared about down.
Despite Ellie being a total dick to you because she simply couldn’t control herself around you, you sucked it up, carried on and stayed until everyone else decided to leave.
Watching you leave that night, made Ellie realize you weren’t something she could pass up.
Asking for your number was probably the best thing Ellie had ever done in her immortal life. Speaking to you was far better than thinking about you constantly, and after she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t do anything stupid with you, she was finally ready to introduce herself to you, the right way.
It’s how she constantly found herself like this, searching for your warm embrace around her cold, dead body every time she found the opportunity. She’d come to you when she was done working, she’d come to you when the girls at the bar were boring her, she’d even come to you when she simply knew you were home and she had nothing to do.
Ellie hummed softly as she looked up at your apartment building, the warm summer breeze wafting against her skin as she stared up at your window, the white curtains blowing out with the wind. She sighs to herself.
“Told you to stop leaving your window open…” she mumbles softly to herself.
The human eye wouldn’t ever be able to catch the way Ellie climbs up the side of your building, her arms and legs scaling it like a pro, making it look as simple as walking, or even breathing. It’s too fast, and in the blink of an eye, she’s at your balcony, long fingers pulling back your curtains to get a look at your sleeping figure.
She watches as your chest rises and falls, your blanket covering your sleeping frame, bare legs kicked out from under them, shining under the moonlight. She isn’t sure how long she stays there at your window staring at you, watching in awe as you do something as simple as sleep.
It isn’t until you shift slightly in your sleep, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips, that Ellie finally pushes her long legs over your window to step into your room, sneaker clad feet pressing onto the wooden floor of your bedroom.
She looks around for a moment, taking a deep inhale as she lets your scent wash over her for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as she simply lets you consume her, fill her up and make her feel whole again.
Make her feel alive again.
You never really understood it, why Ellie lingered when she hugged you, face pressed at the nape of your neck, swaying you slowly as she clung to you longer than normal. Well…you did know, at least you’d find out later on when Ellie finally explained everything to you…what she was, how it happened.
Although, it was only half what you thought. Sure, the smell of your blood made Ellie’s mouth water, her nostrils flare and her throat burn, but it was so much more than that. You made her feel whole, and even if it were a few seconds, she was going to make the most of it every time she got the chance.
And that’s what she felt when she was in your little room. The cool breeze filling up the space, the dim lights casting a warm glow over you because you couldn’t sleep in the dark. You used the excuse of creating an ambiance for yourself when you slept, but Ellie knew you far better than that. It was like you’d perfected the feeling of comfort, bottled it up and sprayed it around your room every other day.
The wind blowing your curtains a bit harder caught Ellie’s attention, and she sighed softly as she walked over to it and shut it. She had told you time and time again to quit it, warning you about the weirdos that would love to take advantage of a pretty girl with her window open while in the most vulnerable state.
Even though the only weirdo that ever snuck into your room through said window, was Ellie. If anything, your little habit only fueled Ellie’s addiction for you further.
The sound of your window closing makes you groan softly in your sleep, and at that sound, Ellie knows she’s done it.
While she wanted nothing more than for you to be awake when she came over, she hated waking you. You looked so fucking serene when you slept, and Ellie felt like the devil himself whenever she accidentally ripped you away from that, even if the only thing she wanted was for you to be awake and talking to her.
Your body twists and turns a bit, slowly finding its way out of the drowsy state of sleep you were in. You let out a gentle yawn before one of your hands come up to rub your eyes, moments before you turn to your side to face her, hand resting between your cheek and your pillow as your eyes open and focus on the tall frame standing in front of your bed.
Ellie is convinced nothing scares you, because for as long as she’d been doing this, sneaking into your bedroom and watching you sleep, on the rare occasion that you wake up and catch her, you never seem scared. You don’t gasp or scream, you don’t even flinch when you see the dark, looming presence stood there in front of you. Ellie was sure the first time you caught her there, that you’d scream in horror before calling the police on her.
But you never did. You always stared at her with a sleepy smile, eyes puffy with sleep, lips a bit swollen, looking at her as if she were your favorite person in the entire world.
And like all those nights before, you do the same. A gentle yawn falls from your lips as you rub your eyes once more before tugging your blanket further up your shoulder.
“Ellie…” you sigh out softly, and you sound so fucking dreamy, so beautiful does her name sound falling from her lips. It makes Ellie weak in the knees.
She walks over to you slowly, smiling softly down at you as she grows closer and closer to your bed until she’s standing over you, one of her hands coming down and running around your blanket clad shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Wanted to come visit…sorry I woke you” she hums soft, her hand traveling up until it reaches your face, one of her fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter shut at this, and she can see that the gesture alone is nearly enough to lull you back to sleep.
“S’okay…I wake up in the middle of the night all the time…you know that” you assure her, words falling with yet another yawn before you open your sleepy eyes up again to stare up at her.
Before she can even speak though, your content expression is replaced with one of worry as you finally get the chance to focus on her face, your eyebrows furrowing as you prop yourself up on your elbow, your other hand reaching up to touch her cheek as you become more and more alert with each passing moment.
“Are you okay Ellie? You look…why are your eyes so…” you mumble, now on your knees to reach her better, your face in front of hers as your eyes search hers.
She looked pale, paler than usual. Her lips were chapped, eyes dull and sunken in, she looked like she hadn’t slept in centuries, like all the life had been sucked out of her. And while that technically was the case, Ellie often looked vibrant for her dead state, eyes sharp and alert, green eyes almost fluorescent with color when you looked into them.
Immediately, you know what was wrong.
“When’s the last time you…had something to eat?” You ask sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a firm frown on your pouty lips.
That was another thing…Ellie hadn’t properly fed in about two weeks, going on three now.
She let out a gentle sigh, her hands resting on your hips as your own rested on her cheeks, cupping her face and forcing her to look into your eyes even though she avoided eye contact.
She hated when you saw her this way, so weak, so small. She liked it when she was the best version of herself, the version that was well fed, agile and strong. Not like this, not like when she was turning into a shell of the woman she once was.
“I…it’s just been a few nights, angel…it’s no big deal” she tries, giving your hips a firm squeeze as she attempts to convince you that she was fine. However her appearance and her voice is a dead giveaway that she’s lying, the sound hoarse and scratchy, sounding as if she’d been clawing at her throat for days to ease the pain she felt.
“You can’t lie to me, Ellie. You look horrible” you scold the girl.
She lets out a sigh, and she almost feels ashamed of herself. Sure, there were times where a meal was a bit harder to come by, people becoming a bit more aware of the danger that lingered when she was near, but god, Ellie couldn’t remember a time where it was this bad. It was like every single time she got someone in her arms, trapped in her little scheme, something cock blocked her entirely from finishing the deed.
And the more times that happened, the weaker she got.
“I’ve just been really unlucky…okay? Most of us do this in packs or with a fucking partner at least…it gets tricky when you’re on your own” she finally admitted, a gentle sigh falling from her lips as she leaned down to rest her head against your shoulder, pressing her weight against you in the process, as it was slowly becoming unbearable to hold it up herself at this point.
“M’just going through a thing right now, baby…don’t worry about it” she mumbled against you, lips ghosting over your soft skin as she again tried to assure you she’d been fine.
Ellie had always made it a point to never get as low as this, and if she did, she made it a point to never let you see her. What would her sweet best friend think of her if the monster she truly was had the chance to shine through? How would you ever allow her in your presence again once you finally realized how disgusting she truly was?
What Ellie didn’t know, is that you didn’t think any of those things. You could never find her to be a monster or disgusting, you adored her far too much to ever see her that way. No, what you did think when you saw her that way, were any of the things you could do to help her. That was the only thing you wanted, to help her.
You don’t even think twice before you say it, giving yourself a moment to mull over the idea and weigh out the pros and cons before it’s escaping the confides of your mind and making its debut out into your bedroom.
“Feed on me” you blurt out, so quickly you aren’t even sure Ellie fully catches it properly.
But she does, Ellie hears every word, every syllable, she can even hear the way your heart beat quickens after you’ve said it.
She’s slowly lifting her head from your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning as she stares down at you, your eyes wide and hopeful, hopeful that she’ll take the offer, that she’ll allow you to give yourself to her for the sake of her wellbeing.
“No.” She deadpans without a second thought. She doesn’t even give herself a second to indulge in the idea of it, knowing how badly it could end, how terrible it could be with one wrong move, or one gulp too much. Ellie knows that this is nothing to toy with, especially with you.
You’re quickly shaking your head once she rejects your offer, your hands falling from her face to rest down on her shoulders, leaning in a bit to press your body closer to hers.
“Ellie…look at yourself. How were you even able to climb up here?” You plead with the girl, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before you inhale deeply.
“I’m giving you permission…I want you to do this” your words almost come out like a beg, wanting nothing more than to simply help the girl, to help a friend in need that clearly needed it.
And you knew deep down, that no matter what, Ellie would never hurt you.
Ellie knew it too. She knew that she wouldn’t go too far to take your life away from you. She had been around long enough to have the self control to stop whenever she knew you’d had too much.
However, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard.
She inhaled deeply, giving your hips a gentle squeeze before she finally brought her own eyes up to look into yours. Her pink tongue darted out to run along her lips, wetting the chapped skin before she let out a gentle sigh.
“You’ll tell me when it becomes too much…right?” She asks, desperate for confirmation from you that you won’t let her go too far, even if she wanted to.
You give her a bright smile, a gentle giggle leaving your lips as you nod. “I will…now go on…sooner you do this, the sooner I can sleep” you tease her playfully, which makes her groan softly with a pout.
She sighed softly, reaching forward and pushing your hair to the side to expose the soft, supple skin of your neck. Her eyes zeroed in on it, and she could practically see your pulse from beneath your skin, making her shudder at the thought of it. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your throat, which earns a gentle sigh from you.
“This’ll hurt…” she mumbles against you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses. You simply tilt your head further to the side, resting your temple against her shoulder as your arms hang loosely around her neck, your body pressed against hers.
“Mm…I’ll be okay” you mumble out sleepily, your fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie can feel the way your pulse slows under her lips, and she has to stop herself from groaning due to how fucking strong your smell was right now with your body pressed against hers. She knew that the longer the stood her, mouthing away at your neck instead of actually feeding, she’d just keep you from getting back to the rest that she had interrupted in the first place.
It was now or never.
She sighed softly, swallowing thickly before she opened her mouth a bit wider, fangs protruding out from her gums and taking their rightful place. She let them graze your skin, the sharp teeth sure to leave scratches from something as small as a graze, before she finally latched her lips to your throat, and sunk her teeth into your flesh.
Now…Ellie had her fair share of tasty meals within her immortal life time. There were maybe a handful of people that left a faint memory in her head, better than most of the others she’d fed on in her past, so she was no stranger to a warm body with a nice taste.
But you? God….there was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Ellie for how fucking…divine you taste. It was like liquid gold on her tongue, the smell that had plagued her mind from the moment she met you a mere tease to the real deal. It made Ellie moan against you, her eyes fluttering shut as her tattooed hands clawed at your waist, gripping the skin so tightly she was sure to leave bruises, pressing you flush against her body.
She could practically feel the essence of your life filling her up and bringing all of her strength back, replacing the once empty, dull feeling in her body with one that could only be described as rejuvenation. The taste you gave her flowing into her mouth and making her feel like she’d died and gone to heaven.
The noises you made only aided Ellie in her blissful state, tiny moans and huffs leaving your lips as you continued massaging her scalp with gentle fingers, allowing her to take whatever she needed from you.
Ellie knew she could’ve drained you, taken every last drop of your life and left you dry. She could do it ten times over if it were an option, however it wasn’t, and she knew at the back of her head she could only take what she needed, and nothing more. So she knew once your grip around her neck loosened a bit, that she needed to stop.
She unlatched from your neck breathlessly, your crimson blood painting her plush lips, red eyes blown out wide as she eyed the damage she’d done to your poor neck, the punctures filling Ellie’s chest with a sense of pride as some of your blood and her saliva dripped down the base of your throat. She leaned in, licking you clean before pressing a gentle kiss to the wound, groaning softly as when she heard you hum softly.
“All…finished?” You mumbled out with a dreamy smile on your lips, eyes half lidded as you stared up at the girl who had just nearly sucked you dry.
Ellie stared down at you with a look of disbelief, the back of her hand coming up and wiping her lips. “You said you’d tell me to stop…” she groaned softly as she gently set you down to lay back on your bed.
You let out a soft yawn, nodding as you tugged your blanket up with a weak hand to drape over your body. “I was…you stopped sooner than anticipated” you giggled out sleepily before you eyed the girl from your bed, already feeling the drowsy affects of sleep taking over.
“You look better already, El…” your compliment made her dead heart swell. She could feel it too, your life coursing through her veins and bringing back all of the good aspects of being immortal, the strength, the radiance, all of it brought back because of you.
She chuckled softly at your words, walking over to your closet and grabbing your first aid kit, fishing a little band aid out before walking back towards you. She sat at the edge of the bed, her pointer and middle finger pushing your jaw up slightly to get a look at the wound she’d given you.
“Here…so you don’t get blood on your pillow” she explains as she pressed the bandaid to your neck. You simply hum in response, and Ellie knows you’re probably already asleep. Between being tired before all of this, and losing blood, she expected for you to be out like a light long before she bid you a goodnight.
She stays a bit longer after you’ve fallen asleep, her long limbs crawling over your body to lay in bed with you, marveling at the way the color returned to your body, the way your chest rose and fell slowly, the way your lips would part with a gentle sigh ever so often. She’d let her hands caress your skin, watching as goosebumps appeared to trail after them. She simply appreciated how human you were, how warm and responsive you were even during sleep.
She leaves once the sun begins to peak above the horizon, knowing you’d want your privacy when you woke up in a few hours. She makes sure to close your window after she’s left too, scaling down the building much quicker than she did when she first arrived.
And while she walks home, the sun slowly casting a warm glow onto the city she lived in, she knew that she’d made a mistake by feeding on you.
Because now? She was completely and utterly ruined for anyone else that she’d feed on after you.
Tumblr media
Bloodlust
The word had entirely different meaning for those like Ellie, creatures of the night that fed on the essence of life, the scarlet, metallic liquid that flowed and pumped throughout the bodies of the living.
She had heard of it happening to other vampires, in an instance of finding the human being that acted as a drug to them, making it hard to function without their taste on their tongues. It was an occasion that only ever happened when there was a mutual agreement between a vampire and a human, a hunter/prey proposition that acted in a more…ethical way.
It consumed the one feeding, making it hard to function without the person near, almost creating an inseparable bond between the two, paired with a constant line of food with it as well. It took over nearly everything, mind, body, soul, all of it belonging to the person they fed on, the human often times having more control over the vampire.
Ellie never really believed in it, instead viewing blood as something that was of and in itself, the same all the time. Sure, there were some people that tasted better than others, but blood was blood, no matter who the person was, they were more or less all the same at the end of the day. A meal was a meal, and that was that.
So if that was true, why were you the only thing on Ellie’s mind every waking second after the night she fed on you?
You were always on Ellie’s mind before it all, lingering at the back, making her smile when she thought of something silly you’d said to her earlier in the week, face beaming whenever you’d send a text her way, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that you were on her mind.
She thought of it constantly, the way you were so…so fucking eager for her, a sense of intimacy lingering in the air of an act so selfless. Your pouty lips parted as you moaned and sighed her name, her lips attached to your neck as you gave her everything. Feeding was always something that felt the slightest bit romantic, the closeness of it all.
But you…doing it with you was different than anything she’d ever experienced.
She knew it meant nothing to you, she knew that it was simply you being a good friend, which meant it was borderline wrong for her to take it any way other than what it was, but she couldn’t help herself. She could still taste you on her tongue when she got home, plopping down into her bed and staring up at the ceiling in her dark room as she felt her core tighten and flutter as she referenced back to the memory.
Ellie couldn’t help herself when she unbuttoned her jeans, slipped her hands down to cup her pussy, and caught her aching clit against her calloused fingers to give it some much needed attention.
And she moaned your name as if it were the only word in her vocabulary, blubbering and crying out for you as she angrily fucked her aching pussy, eyebrows furrowed to the point where she almost looked upset.
“F-fuck….that’s my fucking girl…that’s it…gonna cum all over your pretty fuckin’ face” she groaned out, picturing you settled between her legs, eagerly lapping at her weeping core, grinding down onto your face and giving you everything she had, much like you did when you allowed her to feed on you.
She’d cum with your name falling from her lips, back arching as her hips rolled against her palm, sopping wet cunt painting her slick all over her hand, making it hard to even keep it where she needed it with how wet she was, how fucking riled up you had her.
And she’d do it again, lying in her bed and thinking of the memory over and over again, hanging on to the sound of your voice sighing out her name, moaning for her as she licked her lips, searching for the taste of your blood still soaked on them. All while you were sound asleep in your apartment where she left you.
If Ellie thought she was drawn to you before, she was sorely mistaken. Because now? All she could do was crave you. It interrupted her day to day, made her brain foggy when she wasn’t with you or talking to you.
And soon? It became a habit.
Ellie was at your door every other night, long fingers searching for your hips to pull you closer as she pressed her face into your neck, tongue slipping out of her mouth to run along the now permanent marks on your neck, whispering in your ear about how badly she needed you.
It had become a bit of a routine, Ellie would come over, you’d let her feed on you until she saw fit, she’d go home and fuck herself, and then she would live in her own personal hell for the next few days that she wasn’t able to see you.
It’s how she found herself dragging her body down the hallway to your apartment, a heavy hand coming up to the door and giving it a firm knock.
When you answer, Ellie thinks you look like a dream. Your body is leaned up against the door, head resting against it as you give her a dreamy smile, oversized t-shirt hanging off of one of your shoulders, sleep shorts barely visible beneath the end of the shirt, hugging your ass so perfectly, your white socks bunched up at your ankles.
She has to bite back the moan that threatens to escape when she lays eyes on you.
“Mm…hi Ellie” your voice sounds like the sweetest melody, and she’s smiling sheepishly as she walks towards you, bending her knees a bit as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her tall frame, nearly light you up off the ground completely.
“There she is…” she sighed against you, and it sounds like Ellie can finally breath, like the weight holding her back from breathing in the air she so desperately needed has finally been granted to her, it makes you giggle softly.
You wrap your arms around her neck, humming softly as your fingers come up to tangle in her hair, simultaneously pulling her into your apartment. She kicks the door closed behind her, arms still wrapping you up and keeping you close.
She keeps you close, her head coming up to take a look at the set up you have going in that she’s walked in to. She can tell you’ve been working on your book, your laptop set on your couch paired with your favorite blanket, and a mug set on your coffee table that was still steaming.
“Working on the book?” She asked softly, you nod as you turn around in your arms, and excited smile on your face as you walk over to your spot, clicking the keypad a few times before you shut it.
“Yup. I’m getting pretty far….was wrapping it up right before you came over” you practically beamed.
Ellie always found it so endearing how dedicated you were to your work, and rightfully so, Ellie reminded you time and time again that she’d lived through many eras of famous writers, but you always topped them ten times over and then some. She’d never let you forget the talent you had was rare.
You plopped down on your couch after sliding your laptop into its little compartment under your coffee table, your legs coming up to cross over each other as you pat the spot next to you eagerly, to which she easily obliged of course.
Her old denim jacket rustled a bit as she sat down, resting her back against your couch as she slouched down a bit, legs spread as she stares up at you through the dim, cozy lighting of your living room.
You giggle softly, resting your cheek against your palm as you look down at her. “What are you staring at? You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat…” your words trail off, eyes narrowing at the girl playfully before you sit up, crossing your arms.
“Did you come all the way here to get a free meal out of me, Williams?” Your tone is accusing, but playful, and it makes Ellie chuckle as she bring her tattooed hands up to rub up and down her face before she groans.
“When you say it like that it sounds bad….I see it as seeing my favorite person with something extra added into it…” she defends herself before chuckling, looking back at you as she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently on the plump skin, letting her mind linger to imagine it was your lips she was sucking on instead as her eyes slowly zeroed in on them, similar to if she were under a spell.
“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she mumbled out softly, voice gentle and truthful.
It was true, Ellie would cut all of this out the second you made even the slightest signal that you were tired of it, or if your body simply couldn’t handle it anymore. She knew that she’d never use you as her personal blood bag. The minute you wanted out, you got it, no questions asked.
You give her a gentle smile though, shaking your head as you shifted your body a bit so that it was now laying down on the end of the couch opposite of Ellie, your head resting against one of the plush pillows you had next to you while you were writing. You spread your legs a bit, making space for Ellie to crawl into before you stretched your arms out for her, a silent call for the girl to come closer.
“I’ll always give it to you, El…you know that. Come…” you call her again with a slight flick of your wrist.
Your words make Ellie’s head swirl, all of it sounding, and feeling, much too similar to something else, something more than just a friend helping another friend out. It sounds like you’re giving something else to her, something she’d dreamt of taking from you from the moment she laid eyes on you.
But she can’t indulge in that, not now, not when you’re being so kind.
She chokes back a groan, the girl slowly crawling over your body, similar to a predator creeping over its prey. Her body consuming yours as she pressed either one of her palms into the plush couch near your head, staring into your eyes as she settled between your warm thighs, the plush skin pressing against a sliver of her hips that was exposed at the top of her jeans. The feeling of her body pressed against your warm cunt, the only thing separating the two of you being the think material of your shorts, drove Ellie to the brink of insanity.
She hummed softly, her eyes trailing down your every feature, taking you in, eating you up for a moment before she grabbed your chin, tilting your head up and away to give her better access to the little area of your throat that had now become hers and only hers.
Soon, she’s leaning down, her body pressed against yours as she peppers kisses along your jaw until she reaches your throat, licking at the two little wounds that were in the shape of her fangs before she sighed against your skin, finally giving in and letting her protruding fangs sink into your skin.
You’d always been comfortable around Ellie, never shying away from her touch whenever she’d grab you whenever you were out together, or letting her easily pull you into her lap whenever you watched movies or played video games together, intimate touches never being out of the ordinary in your relationship.
But now, ever since you and her had started…whatever it was that you’d been doing, you had seemed to cross a boundary that was once put up. What was once little sighs and huffs, turned into full on moans whenever Ellie would press her body against yours and take what she wanted. You’d grip her hair, keeping her close as you moaned and whined out her name, breathless begs for her to keep going.
“Fuck…Ellie…” you moaned out for her, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers laced into her brown hair, keeping her close as her hands moved from either sides of your head to instead grip your body. Your hips were her favorite, holding onto the plush skin and keeping you close, massaging and kneading you as she pleased, a small piece of her wanting to bruise you up, just so she knew she was able to leave marks on you other than your neck.
It egged her on further, your calls for her making her swipe her tongue over the wound before she continued sucking your sweet essence from your body. Ellie wasn’t sure if you were fond of it at first, but now? With how you reacted? She was sure you enjoyed it, if even a little bit.
She became so drunk off of you, her mind clouded with the intense flavor of your blood, nearly choking on it with how quickly she drank sometimes. One of her hands left your hips, sliding down until she gripped your thigh, pulling it up and closer to wrap around her body, massaging the soft skin as she let one of her legs slip over your other one, so that her thigh was slotted against your cunt, and yours against hers.
Ellie didn’t even realize it at first, but she slowly began to grind into you, letting her thigh rub against your barely clothed pussy as she drank from you, her senses completely overwhelmed with just how fucking good you tasted, how good you felt. She felt her mind and body buzz with electricity when she pressed her chest against yours, and she could feel your nipples hardening through the thin material of your shirt, pressing against her own chest.
“Mm…h-hah…Ellie..I….Ellie please…” you begged, and Ellie was able to hear the way your voice was slowly going, growing more and more hoarse with every moan, every pant.
She was taking too much, and she wasn’t sure if she was begging for you to stop, or to keep going.
Ellie groaned loudly against you, prying her lips away from your dulcet neck, panting loudly as she pulled away further to look down at you, letting herself get a good look at the mess she’d made of you.
Your lips were swollen, eyes growing heavy, skin getting dull. Your hair was messy, and your shirt was pulled down further, revealing more of your shoulder and collar bones, while the bottom was pushed up to show more of your stomach.
It was like a dream and a nightmare all at once.
You blinked a few times as you tried catching your breath, staring up at Ellie as one of your hands came up to cup her cheek gently.
“A-all better?” You stuttered out, giving her that notorious dreamy smile of yours, the one that made Ellie feel like she was the only person in the world that got to see it.
She’s drained you, and yet you were asking if she felt better.
Ellie held back a groan, her large hand wrapping around your wrist before she brought your hand down to press a kiss to your palm, giving you a gentle nod before she inhaled deeply to control the emotions that threatened to escape while she saw you this way.
“Always when I’m with you baby” she chuckled out sadly.
The smile you give Ellie nearly has her in tears, because you look so genuinely happy, so content with the fact that you’ve helped her, that you’ve made Ellie feel better, even if it’s at the expensive of your own comfort.
At the expensive of your own life.
“I’m glad…” you hummed out softly before you yawned, clearly tired out from what Ellie had done to you. It makes Ellie frown, and she’s quickly pushing herself off of you before she scoops you up into her arms to carry you off to your bedroom.
Soon, she has you tucked into bed, your eyes closing almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, and Ellie has your blankets pulled up over your arms. It’s almost mind blowing how quickly you fall asleep, it makes Ellie feel a bit jealous, because she can’t remember a time where she was that comfortable in a bed to fall asleep so fast.
She watches you, of course. Sticking around for a few hours after you’ve slept, keeping an eye on you to make sure your chest continues to rise and fall slowly. She knows it would never go that far, but she always gets nervous after feeding.
Tonight was also different, and it was eating away at her because she knew there wasn’t really a right or wrong way to go about cleaning about it, or comforting you about how wrong this was, and how much Ellie had been draining you. Even the fact that you expected it of her when she came over left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that replaced the sweet one that usually lingered on her tongue after she had a taste of you.
And as she watched you sleep, so peaceful and so serene, Ellie began to think of any way this would blossom into something more. How would this carry on? She would continue sucking from you until you died one day? She’d come to you like a thief in the knight well after you had a family? Children to look after? Your life moving on while she stayed in an immortal purgatory? One where she continued the cycle of coming to you for a quick bite to eat? Paired with a warm body to lay on top of for the time being?
There was no way it could surpass this. You being her friend, helping her in a way not many could. Ellie knew, that deep down, the life she wanted with you was not one that was easy to come by, something that she wouldn’t dare ask of you. From the moment she saw you, she wanted more. Because that’s what she did, she took, and took, and took until there was nothing left to take, and it was slowly happening with you.
But Ellie loved you too fucking much to take until you were nothing but a shriveled up peace of what you used to be.
So, she took one long last look at you and she left your window. Because that night, she promised herself that she was finished. The life she wanted with you unfortunately wasn’t written in the stars for her, and she knew that from the moment she saw you.
Ellie was letting you go, because she knew it she didn’t.
She’d just end up killing you.
2K notes · View notes
jazzyoranges · 3 months
Note
heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️
All Mine
Tara Carpenter x gp!reader
Words: 2.8k
A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request
Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au
MINORS DNI!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too
She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did
You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying
Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with
All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down
“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table
“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice
“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”
“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way
“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”
Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?
Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts
“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her
“You have Aspirin laying around?”
“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”
“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”
“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”
“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water
“Missed me?”
“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”
“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”
“You? Study?” Tara scoffs
“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”
“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”
“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”
Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her
The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too
You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day
The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion
“What is this?”
“Notes, you need them”
“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”
“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”
“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying
“In my defense, Trout recently died”
“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”
“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”
“I really do wonder how you still have friends”
//-//
Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed
You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone
For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up
“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”
“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it
“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning
“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”
“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke
“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”
“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug
“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache
“Isn’t it god give me strength?”
“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”
“Point taken, but you still need a password”
“You didn’t say anything about a password!”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”
The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation
You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand
“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter
“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck
“No.”
“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense
“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something
“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed
“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”
“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks
“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”
“Kill yourself.”
//-//
Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you
It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you
Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.
Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.
Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.
The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world
She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath
“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face
“You know what this is fucking about.”
“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”
“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock
“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable
“Only you.”
“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”
“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to
“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth
“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly
“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat
“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile
“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl
Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass
“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”
“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing
“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost
“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”
Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.
Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.
“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance
“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”
“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big
Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit
“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost
You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place
Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment
Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment
The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms
“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore
“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat
With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her
The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like
“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking
“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion
“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind
The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole
You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it
“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own
“I’ve got all night, love.”
Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.
1K notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 5 months
Note
omg i’m so happy ur taking young coriolanus requests!! i’d love a oneshot of him falling for reader (whos from the districts) and him trying to deal with it
Summary: Coriolanus has no interest in his assigned tribute beyond her potential assistance in helping him win the Plinth prize...or at the very least, that's what he tells himself.
Warnings: Coriolanus being kind of delusional (in deep denial) and possessive, jealousy, a crush being treated like a terminal illness, Coriolanus trying really hard to talk himself out of said crush by comparing the reader to an animal/pet in his internal thoughts
----
His nails dig into the soft skin of his palm with enough force to leave stinging crescents in their wake. He's too far gone to feel the marks, to know when to relieve pressure to avoid breaking skin.
When the idea of having the best and brightest of the Academy's senior class was initially presented, the concerns about having such prominent members of the Capitol interacting so closely with representatives of the districts was highly contested. Most of the outcry had been from concerned parents--wealthy fathers and overly doting mothers desperately attempting to convince their leaders to not subject their poor, innocent children to that kind of proximity with something considered so other.
After all, those from the districts are closer to animal than man. If an outburst of hatred doesn't result in a Capitol heir's life and potential being cut short, perhaps some sort of disease would take them instead.
Coriolanus had found that part ridiculous. Not the way the tributes were seen, but the level of coddling the Capitol elite were willing to openly mark their children with. There are ways to mentor from a safe distance and there hasn't been public knowledge of a strange and fatal virus running through the districts in some time.
Now that he's here, standing at the zoo's entrance under the cover of night, food that he can't truly afford to waste tucked into the pocket of his coat, he realizes how naive he had been to not head their warnings. He's come down with something, that's the only explanation for the sweat coating his palms and the nervous turning of his stomach.
This infliction is something that you've done to him. Unintentionally, of course--your lack of cut throat nature and maliciousness had been a disappointing discovery at the time--but still true. Why else would he come here to feed you when his family can barely feed themselves?
Coriolanus walks further and further into the zoo until the familiar cage is in view. There are a no peacekeepers inside of the space and less than a hand full patrolling the perimeter. It's late and the games are tomorrow morning, any of the tributes that wanted to cause problems would have done so by now.
It shouldn't matter to him, none of them would turn him away. The mentors weren't explicitly told to stay away which means that the peacekeepers wouldn't bother him. He could always say that he's here to discuss last minute strategy, that the earlier bombing had cut his time short and that Dr. Gaul had given Academy students permission to make up that time if they so wished. But the thought of having less of an audience soothes him slightly.
He stands where he had stood beneath the daylight, near the corner, as far from the other tributes as physically possible. Regret begins to knot his stomach. Everyone's asleep. This will be the most alone together the two of you have ever been. It's also so dark, and you're likely asleep as well. How will he find you? Is it wrong to disturb the last peaceful rest you might ever experience?
The more he thinks, the more an urgency he can't wraps itself tight beneath his bones. The sensation, a likely byproduct of his ailment, makes him wish that there was some way to scratch beneath his skin. Right no longer matters, and neither does his growling stomach that begs him to just eat the food he had taken from the Academy's lunch and disappear back into the night. He needs to see you, to see that--
"You're going to be okay." Your voice, a soft whisper that brings him back to the present.
You're awake, the vague shape of your crouched form resting against one of the artificial rocks. You're also comforting someone with a much larger frame. Something in his chest turns to stone.
Here he is, wandering the Capitol streets in the dead of night, a pocket full of food that he had hidden from his own family for your sake and you're--you're not thinking of him at all.
Maybe his infliction had been more intentional than he thought possible. Your kindness could be a ruse and Coriolanus has heard rumors of your people. Some say that your ancestors practiced spirtual arts in order to enchant others. Perhaps you've bewitched him.
His own naivety burns through his chest. You're supposed to be his. If that's how it is, then he's freeing himself of you and your kind eyes and honey-laced voice. He'll--
"Coriolanus," a surprised, careful sound that's much warmer than your attempts at soothing someone had sounded.
His name forces the pinching feeling in his chest to be replaced by an uneasy warmth that crawls its way up his neck. He's suddenly glad for the darkness.
He follows your silhouette as you quickly push yourself to your feet with no regard for the boy next to you. Your movements are swift yet quiet, and the care behind them keeps him steady. You don't want to wake anyone; you want this to be just you and him.
"You're--" You stand so close to the bars that it'd take nothing at all to reach for you. "You're here." You place a hand on the bars that divide you, fingers curling around the cool metal. "Are you okay?"
The question is laughable. He's at the tribute zoo only a few hours before the games begin because some instinct had made seeing you again feel as important and necessary as breathing.
But you're not asking about that. You're asking about him, about his injuries from the bombing. "I'm fine," he assures you, "A little scraped up from the debris and I did lose consciousness, but I was treated for all injuries."
You're finally close enough for the moonlight to make a difference. He can make out the unruliness of your hair from the way that life has treated you since your reaping, the form of your tattered dress, your facial features and...the long gash that now marks your forehead.
"And I was told that you were as well." Someone in passing had mentioned that the tributes were cleaned up after the bombing. They weren't prioritized or given valuable resources, but they were cleaned up. Injuries were cleaned and dressed to prevent infection from getting in the way of the games.
You frown, tilting your head slightly as if to hide the length of the mark. Something in his chest tightens again, the sensation much more aggressive than before. Your smooth, gentle skin now marred...
His own defensiveness hits him like a physical blow. Coriolanus blames the feeling on familiarity. The desire to keep you in the best condition possible is no different than what someone would feel for a prized pet. You're his tribute, after all.
"It sort of happened after."
Panic seizes at his chest. After. One of the peacekeepers or another tribute had hurt you. "Who?" The coolness of his own voice shocks him.
You angle your head downwards, the motion distinctly dismissive. Coriolanus won't accept that. Who are you to hide something like this from him? After everything he's done for you, don't you trust him? His arm moves forward without his permission, pulling at your arm so that your body shifts closer to the bars. His other hand then slips between the poles and grasps your chin firmly between two fingers.
He tilts your head, giving himself the space needed to examine the entirety of the cut. It stretches down the start of your hairline and stops just short of your eyebrow. Not too long or wide, but the dried blood still smeared on you implies that it's deep.
"Who did this to you?"
His hold on you is steady, but not so tight that you couldn't step away if you wanted to. You hold still as he takes the time to examine the rest of your face for injuries. Your acceptance leaves a metallic taste in his mouth. Coriolanus releases you like you might burn him.
"I don't--" Of course you don't want to tell. Your nobility runs so deep, you don't care what it costs you.
An odd wave of distress washes over him. The night air feels wrong against his skin, too cold for the thin clothing he put on in his hurry to get to you. "You shouldn't alienate your mentor the night before the games."
Your lips pull down into what feels like a pout. You stare at him with wide eyes. "I'm not trying to alienate you." The genuineness of your words knots his stomach. "I--I'm glad that you're here, that you're okay." Usually, sugar coated words from you are enough to crack at his exterior. He's feeling a lot less amicable tonight. "The girl from district 4 was aggravated tonight. I think she wanted to intimidate the other careers into listening to her so she targeted Wovey and I was kind of--around."
Translation: your too-good-for-the-arena heart took over and you inserted yourself in a conflict that had nothing to do with you. "I told you to be careful."
You nod solemnly at the reprimand. Your lips part, but before you can say anything, the sound of your name steals your attention. You turn away from him, keeping one hand on the metal bars. "Yeah?"
"Are you coming back soon?"
The question jabs at him like a thumb finding a bruise. The tribute you were comforting may come from the same district as you, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. By morning, your destiny to be rivals in the arena will be sealed. He won't risk anything for you the way Coriolanus is. He'd snap your neck in an instant if it meant going back home. Surely, even you're not kind hearted enough to not see that.
You crane your neck to look back at him, but your body stays angled towards the other tribute. The urge to hold you in place, to bring your attention back to him physically aches. Is your final meeting before the games really going to be cut short because of some other tribute? The look you give him is apologetic enough to make his chest constrict. After all he's done for you.
"I'm talking to my mentor." Your response dislodges something from his chest. "Why don't you check on Wovey? I think that'll help."
The sound of shuffling fills the space, and then that's that. The two of you are as alone as two people like you can be.
"It was nice of you to come here," the admission leaves you carefully, "I-I tried to see what happened to you after, but they brought us back here so quickly, and I--"
"It's alright."
He never expected for you to be at the hospital. The mental image is strange enough as a concept in itself. You, sitting in one of those stiff hospital seats, waiting desperately at his bedside. You, in the same room as his cousin and grandmother, all three of you concerned and co-existing. It doesn't fit, you're not like them. You're district. That's inherently lesser, inherently replaceable no matter the level of your charm or--or appeal.
But if that's reality, than why was your name the first thing that stumbled past his lips when he woke up? Why was his first thought after being discharged about getting back to you? Why does the fact that you were sitting with the male tribute from your district turn his stomach? Why does he now have a personal vendetta against the girl from 4? These can't possibly all be things that someone would feel for a favorite pet, can they?
This train of thought is nauseating, and the last thing he wanted for the final night before the games. "I was worried." You force these words out in a jumble of colliding syllables, like if you didn't pry them out fast enough, they'd never manage to find their way out.
Coriolanus watches you carefully, imprinting the details of the small crease between your eyebrows and your nervous eyes to memory. The look tugs at something dangerously close to fondness. "Then you know how I'lll feel tomorrow." That, in itself, is a confession pulled from him the same way a rotten tooth would be extracted. "How I'll feel until you come back."
You stare at him, eyes wide. "If this is about the prize money the peacekeepers talk about, you're doing a good job."
There's a stiffness to the way you say this, a guarded quality that soothes him more than it should. The thought of him only being invested in you only because of what he can get out of your success displeases you.
It's instinct to want to ease you. It'd be easy, too. All it would take is a comment that implies that he can be here for more than one reason. The response sits at the back of his throat. Is that why he's here?
The natural answer is of course. Why else would he lose sleep? What other reason could he have for risking taking Academy food and exposing his poverty? Something he's rarely willing to do for himself and his own family.
"A person can want more than one thing at the same time."
You can't hold his gaze, eyes cautiously darting downwards. The display of shyness makes things feel a little warmer. It makes him bolder. Coriolanus moves his hand again, letting his fingers cover yours. You don't move away.
"I almost forgot." His free hand makes its way into the pocket of his coat, finding the carefully folded napkin. He's going out of his way to emphasize the casualness of food. The only thing caring about this gesture is that he had thought to come, not the food itself. There's no such thing as scarcity in the Capitol. "Here."
He offers the neatly tied fabric in the gaps between the bars. You don't attempt to take back the hand pressed between the pole and his own palm. You take the gift in your free hand and don't attempt to let go of him until you realize that you won't be able to untie the makeshift parcel with one hand.
You open it slowly, examining the contents of his offering carefully. Two biscuits, a few crackers, a small wedge of cheese, and another baked good that reminds him of a denser, more durable version of cake.
"Thank you," The truth to your gratitude forces something uncomfortable to wedge itself between his ribs.
You don't start eating right away, your head instinctually turning back. He realizes what you're doing almost instantly. "If you're going to share everything I give you, there's not much point in bringing it."
A little harsher than he meant to be out loud. It's not your fault. Your family is large and of a taking care of each other mentality. If there's food for one, there's food for all.
You nod, accepting the criticism the way you usually do. It's a good thing that you're so pliable, that you're eager to keep the usual comfortable atmosphere between the two of you. Sometimes, though, it feels a bit like kicking a puppy.
Carefully, you bring a cracker to your lips, chewing cautiously. Taking anything makes you guilty, another byproduct of your upbringing. Sometimes Coriolanus wonders if all of this would be easier if you were brought up like the majority of district children, more ravenous and unapologetic.
You'd told him about your mother before, a free spirit who works in a textile factory that produces lavish fabrics instead of standard peacekeeper uniforms. Even though the work isn't much different, you spoke about it like it made all the difference. My mother loves beautiful things so much she doesn't even care about who they're for.
That had been the first time he had found himself thinking about your appearance. If your mother's love is reliant on beauty, he realized, then you must have grown up with consistent affection.
You speak of her, of your entire family, in a way that confirms his hypothesis. You've told him stories of the way she hangs up the prettiest fabric she can find to hang up and turn one room into two--a necessity with so many of you living in a set of conjoined apartments.
"You're..."
You trail off, pressing your lips together nervously in a way that he's gotten used to. It usually signifies that you're concerned about being impolite. That's another thing that doesn't fit the district mold, even here you hold onto manners and social cues. Even when you first met him, you had fallen back on habit. He had introduced himself as your mentor and you absentmindedly asked how he was in that way that people do when they run into an acquaintance.
Normally, if he presses or even just prompts you once or twice you'll reveal your initial thoughts. They're rarely what he expects them to be. Instead of responding to the light raise of his eyebrows, you pick up a biscuit before stretching your arm towards him.
"Oh, no I'm--"
"You're hungry." That's what you almost blurted out.
You don't mean anything by it, or, at the very least, not anything beyond the realm of worry. Heat rises up Coriolanus's neck slowly but surely. You know nothing of his world and yet you knew that to have his hunger exposed would be embarrassing. You know that it's not the kind of hunger that comes from missing a meal or two on a particularly busy or chaotic day.
"Don't worry," you tack on, "It's not noticeable unless you know what to look for."
The comment is a little too reassuring, too on the nose. Can you read him that easily? Coriolanus takes the biscuit before he can pick apart your comment any further. The corner of your mouth shifts into an almost smile. You then break apart the wedge of cheese and try to hand him that along with most of your crackers and a piece of the pastry.
"No, I can't take all of that."
You stare at him oddly. "You've been injured," you stretch your hand out again, "You need your strength."
There are several reasons why you need your strength more than he does, but he can't figure out how to insist on that without making it seem like this is a final meal. He doesn't want to give you a chance to see it that way, so he takes the a little less than half of what you're offering. "Compromise."
You nod, accepting his terms. He's unsure who starts it, but the two of you end up sitting in front of each other. You smooth the napkin out in front of you, setting up what's left of your food like a makeshift picnic. "My mother used to take me for picnics."
"Yeah?" There's something about your stories about your life back home that are attention drawing. It's not so much mundane content of life in district 8 and the fact that it still managed to produce someone like you, it's the way you speak. You're expressive and bright.
"Mhm," you finish off your first cracker, "Eight isn't exactly full of nature, but there's this wooded area past the factories and if you know where to go, you'll find this clearing that's practically untouched. She'd go there sometimes on days off when she needed to collect wildflowers to turn into paints and she'd bring who she could...me, my siblings, cousins..."
You pick up a piece of cheese, setting it on a cracker. "Neighbors, sometimes." Your voice wavers in a way that sticks out. Despite an initial tearing up on your first night, you haven't cried or behaved in anyway that indicates that this could be your end. He doesn't want you losing hope now. "Tanner used to go with us."
It's whispered with the intensity of a confession. The boy you came with, the boy you were speaking with--you grew up with him. That's a bond that's not as easily dismissed. That's something strong enough to challenge his connection with you.
Why does it matter? He's earned enough of your trust, you spoke in a way that earned more donations than anyone else. You trust him enough to actually fight in the arena. It--it doesn't matter if you...
"Do you care for him?" The question surprises both of you equally. His own bluntness, the slight edge to his tone...it's too much for a mentor.
"Uh," you sniffle once, "He was a good friend when we were little, our families know each other." An knot so tight it's difficult to stay sitting there twists his stomach. "We're a little less close these days."
If you comforting him during the dead of night, losing sleep during your last chance to rest is your version of less close, Coriolanus doesn't even want to imagine your normal. "You shouldn't expect any loyalty during the games, the second the count down begins, there's no such thing as friendship."
You wipe at your face with the back of your palm. "What makes you so sure?"
Your question isn't a challenge or an attempt to convince him that the boy would never hurt you. You're asking because you're curious, because you want to know his thoughts. "Human nature."
It's more nihilistic than he usually is in front of you, but his patience is wearing thin. The soreness of his body is starting to catch up with him and wasting the little time you have less discussing someone so insignificant is draining.
His annoyance has to stem from how little the other tributes matter to him. That's the only reason he can piece together, especially when his brashness is likely pushing you away.
"Then why can I trust you?"
Another question that you mean. It's not a slight or an attempt to indicate that you're not there yet with him. He didn't come here to cast doubt on the bond he so carefully helped build.
He can't look at you as he speaks, "Because I'm going to do anything I can to get you back."
You nod, your eyes retreating to focus on your lap. "For the prize money, for your school."
He picks at the edge of his biscuit, a few crumbs falling to the ground. "I already told you, I want more than one thing."
That's not exactly what he said...this reiteration of it is more blatant. Heat burns his face. You peak up at him through your lashes.
If you had been born in the Capitol, you would have done well. You're found of civility and social norms despite a lifetime in the Districts and despite only knowing you stained in various levels of grime, he can tell that our features are pleasing. Polished, dressed, and brought up differently, you would have been a regular Capitol darling.
Coriolanus shakes his head once, an attempt to dismiss his thoughts. Why care about what you could have been? Why imagine what you'd be like if you were part of his word?
"You're not going to--to rely on him in the arena." It's framed as a question, but in reality, it's more of a hopeful statement.
You pause, genuinely thinking about your response. "No." You rest a hand on your bent knee, gently scratching at the skin. "Not rely."
The answer isn't concrete enough, but he has no right or reason to say much else. "Don't let your guard down. Not for anyone."
You nod, reaching for what's left of your biscuit, "I won't, I promise."
"Good, I'll be watching and I'll remember when you get back."
Get back. You wipe at your cheek with the back of your palm. "Yeah, when I get back."
The dryness of your voice cracks at him. If you consider yourself defeated before even stepping into the arena, you won't come back to him. For him. For the Plinth prize.
He shoves the thoughts down as deep as they'll go. They don't manage to get very far, crowding his throat in a way that makes it hard to breathe. Coriolanus doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead he slips his hand between the cage's bars. He lets his hand sit there, palm facing upwards in a silent offering.
Coriolanus stares at his arm as a way to prevent himself from taking in your reaction. A beat passes, and then the tips of your fingers are brushing against his before settling against his palm. He squeezes your hand tightly, so tightly he's aware that it's probably uncomfortable, but the prospect of holding you so tightly that you can't vanish is too assuring.
"Do you have to--to go soon?"
He adjusts his hold on you, bending his fingers so that they can rest between yours. The rest of his household is asleep by now, but they'd be able to tell if he spent the night here and that would worry them. It would also make the morning much more complicated...he'd have to shower and change before the games begin in order to hide where he spent the night.
"No," it leaves him before he realizes what he's saying, "I can stay as long as you'd like."
A hint of a smile tugs at your lips, "Good."
That makes something in his chest feels like it's going to burst. He shouldn't care. He should see this open display of clinginess as an inconvenience. And why would he risk getting caught as someone that spent the night on the floor of the zoo when there's nothing left to convince you of?
The answer strikes him so harshly he nearly lets go of you. He didn't just want you to ask him to stay to prove something, he wanted the excuse to stay. He--he wants to be near you...and not in the way that someone wants to spend time with a puppy.
The truth to it is simple. Straightforward. He cares about you.
He can hear that you're speaking, but your words are too distant to mean anything.
"Coriolanus?"
No. No. He--he isn't meant to care about you of all people, to feel these kinds of--No. No, he can't. He's not biologically wired to. And yet, he can't let go of your hand.
"Coriolanus?"
He squeezes your hand even tighter. "You didn't ask me."
"What?"
"The other thing I want, you didn't ask me about it." The words leave him in a rush, an uneasy mess that he needs out.
Confessing turns these kinds of thoughts into reality, an undeniable force that he wishes he could vanish. But maybe if he gets it out, the ache of it will be expelled from him. Maybe he'll finally be able to think about something else that doesn't involve analyzing your every expression like your life depends on it.
"No," your eyes are wide, a deer realizing they're not the only ones at the watering hole, "I-I didn't."
A small part of him is disappointed that you don't take the opportunity to press. You usually do, chatting like you're a regular friend and not his tribute. "I'll tell you anyways." He swallows, gripping your hand like a lifeline. You squeeze back, a silent display of support. "It's you."
Your hand goes slack in his. Coriolanus warns himself that it's best to keep his eyes away from you, to not read any--he breaks, gaze snapping upwards to watch you.
"Me?" Your voice is fragile and impossible to read. You lift your intertwined hands as best you can between the poles that make up the cage. You lean forward, pressing your lips against the back of his palm. Your eyes briefly fall shut.
"I--" You set your intertwined hands back in place. "I think the practical thing to do would be to forget about me." The rejection cuts through him. All he can do is stare. "You know what's going to happen tomorrow."
Your twist your hand in an attempt to steal it back as you push yourself upwards, adjusting so that your weight is on your knees. Coriolanus instinctively shifts forward, grabbing your arm to keep you close. He moves to sit up on his knees. "You're going to come back." You stop trying to push him away. "Do you care about me?"
"You're being unfair," your whisper is harsh, "Even--even if I win, where would that leave us?" He's silent. "I'll be back in a cage and you'll stay on the outside, only this time they won't be in proximity to each other."
You're logical. You're right. And he can't bring himself to care. "Do you care about me?"
"Of course I do," the response is frustrated, exhausted, "I think I might even--" Your mouth clamps shut, eyes briefly leaving him. "I think I love you." You drop head, giving Coriolanus only the slightest glimpse of your now glassy eyes. "But what does that matter?"
The word loosens something in his chest. He gets as close to the bars as physically possible, pulling on your arm in a way that almost makes you fall forward. The new proximity seems to drain any remaining fight from you.
He leans forward, his lips finding yours in the space between metal. It takes you a second to catch up with what's happening, but once you do, you return the display of affection. He pulls your bottom lip between his own before releasing you enough to let you breathe.
"Is this real?" The question takes its time coming out, slow and through pants. If he thought thinking about you before was a type of sickness, then this is something terminal. You nod instinctually, urgingly. "Then we'll find a way." You're both resting your head against the bars. If it wasn't for the invasive metal in the way, you'd be resting against each other. "Just come back to me, and everything else--we'll figure it out."
He can write to you. He can find an excuse to bring you back to him. Maybe another aspect of the games--something that requires victors to visit the Capitol.
You nod, acceptance finally coloring your features as you squeeze his hand. "We'll figure it out."
----
a/n i've gotten so many Coriolanus/thg requests,, pls feel free to keep them coming <3
2K notes · View notes
backwardsbread · 2 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters:
~Marriage proposals~
Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.
A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!
This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))
?Semi proofread?
Lucifer:
This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.
When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.
He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.
(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)
The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.
How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.
With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.
It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.
But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.
He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.
As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.
But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.
When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.
This has to be PERFECT-
He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.
Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.
Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.
He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.
Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.
Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.
(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)
He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?
With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.
But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…
He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)
“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”
Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.
You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.
And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.
The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.
It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.
(I mean. Technically you were)
During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.
Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.
His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.
Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.
You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.
Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.
His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.
His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.
He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.
You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)
It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.
Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.
And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.
You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.
Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.
You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.
His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.
Alastor:
We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.
He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.
The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.
Falling for you was never part of his plan.
He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.
But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.
You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.
You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.
You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.
Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.
This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.
Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.
His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.
There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.
The first time he did this scared you,
(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)
But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.
It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.
You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.
It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.
You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.
It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.
Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.
(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)
(But enough backstory)
More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.
The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.
We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.
“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”
“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”
“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”
“…”
“You do know where we are, right?”
It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.
But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.
The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.
The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.
It irked him.
After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.
It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.
If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.
It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.
You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.
You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.
You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.
Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.
“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”
The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)
He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.
You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.
You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.
Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.
He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.
You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.
Oh- he was serious?????
You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’
Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.
Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.
You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.
You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.
He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.
And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Vox:
Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.
Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.
A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.
He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.
Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.
How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.
(According to him.)
Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.
But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.
Yeah he had it BAD.
When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.
Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.
So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.
It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.
You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.
As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.
Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.
Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.
Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.
He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.
The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.
He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.
As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.
(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)
You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.
The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.
Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.
Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.
Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.
And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.
He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.
Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.
So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.
Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.
It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.
By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.
While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.
He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.
Where the hell did you go??
He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.
He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.
He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.
Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.
The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.
He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.
“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”
(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)
Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.
Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.
“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜��𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“
“You better watch your mouth.”
“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”
Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.
The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.
The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.
Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.
You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.
Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.
You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.
You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.
You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.
As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.
He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.
I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.
He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.
For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.
He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.
You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.
He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.
You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.
Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.
It was perfect.
874 notes · View notes
tim-shii · 1 month
Note
hi! just found your acc and i just want to say i absolutely adore your work first off. you bring my wife (aventurine) to life beautifully.
saw the as a boyfriend and oh my GOD the part about him getting anxious over reader speaking with ratio? so good. i need jealous pouty aventurine. and honestly might be a bit ooc for ratio but i think he’d encourage it just to get under aventurine’s skin tbh.
up to you though, i’d love for you to write a lil drabble or something of the sorts expanding on this, whatever you have the imagination to write.
that’s all~!
Tumblr media
a/n: tysm ?! ure so kind im glad very happy !! that u adore my work 🫶 we have to make sure wife is loved always 🫡 here's jealous aven from this ; @svnarin proofreader !! (she told me to put it here)
cw: bf!aventurine, slight angst
Tumblr media
“such lavish proposal. are you certain i am the person who should be hearing that?”
“absolutely. you’re the perfect person i should be consulting about it.”
aventurine is not a jealous person. he’s confident in himself, you had praised him several times of how much of an amazing person he is. jealousy means there’s a lack of trust between the two of you and aventurine doesn’t like that idea at all. he thinks that trust is a significant factor when it comes to relationships. he doesn’t keep secrets and even if he does, he’ll eventually open up to you after some time.
aventurine is a quartz-based gem stone. a stone that brings good fortune and helps you create your own luck. it’s also green. the same green in the monster’s eyes that’s currently chomping down on aventurine. he can’t help it! can he really blame himself when uneasiness swirls in his stomach after seeing you with dr. ratio?
out of everyone he gets jealous of, it just had to be him. veritas ratio. his good friend, veritas. the most logical man aventurine has ever known.
while aventurine is confident in himself, no doubt there’s a part of him that feels inferior to the doctor. the man has radiant violet hair that compliments the tone and structure of his face. he also has a slightly muscular build compared to aventurine’s more slender one. there’s a lot to compare and aventurine isn’t sure if he can even list it all out.
his brows furrowed, eyes dulling as his thoughts consumed him at once. what proposal? what’s that about? and perfect person? he doesn’t understand. are you leaving him? can he really not make you stay? was it something he did? something he said? but he can’t ask you those. because what if instead of an answer, he’ll be greeted with a farewell—
a flick on his forehead snapped him out of the daze. aventurine blinks back, now finding you in front of him.
“i was right. he was sulking.” he hears veritas quip.
“not sulking. more of, in a daze.” your fingers thread through his soft locks, aventurine hums at the affection, absentmindedly leaning his cheek on your palm.
“you give him too much credit. he’s probably wallowing in the sorrows of his mind for no apparent reason.” ratio snickers ever so quietly.
“or he could just be tired and sleep deprived.”
“or he’s jealous. he glares at me any longer, my skin will start withering and rotting.” for a doctor who has more than eight doctoral degrees, he can be quite the drama queen.
“goodbye, doctor. thank you for your opinion, i shall greatly treasure your wise words.” veritas only shook his head before slipping out the door. once he’s left, all your attention shifts to your boyfriend.
aventurine lets you sit atop his lap, gloved hands instantly finding home on your hips. for a moment, you both stare at each other in complete silence.
“spit it out. what’s wrong?” you spoke first.
aventurine sighs. “i didn’t like seeing you with him.” for all his life, lying came easy. with his good looks and charming personality, making people believe whatever he says is child’s play. but aventurine can never lie to you. he doesn’t have the heart to face you once you’ve realized he’s fooled with your thoughts.
you raised a brow in amusement. “so you were jealous?”
“no. i don’t get jealous.” he grumbles. “i just,” aventurine gazes at you with a fond look, an expression so serene and completely enamored. “i’m better looking than him, right?”
blood rushed to his cheeks when he felt your lips on his. his hold moved from your hips to your neck to deepen the kiss, left thumb caressing over your pulse. he chases your lips like an intoxicated man once you pulled away. only to be stopped by you leaning your forehead on his.
“the best looking man in my life and in the whole universe. my most beloved, too.”
“you flatter me.” he grins stupidly before pulling you in for another kiss.
Tumblr media
likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
959 notes · View notes
1-800-kami · 5 months
Text
4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo
Tumblr media
content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic
Tumblr media
gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.
in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.
despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.
“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.
it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”
gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.
“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”
“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.
“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”
“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.
you’re home.
“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.
you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”
you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”
“horsey!”
“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.
“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”
“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.
“what did you do this time, satoru?”
“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”
“...”
satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”
“satoru-”
“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”
“toru-”
“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”
“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.
“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”
now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”
“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”
“yeah, sure you did.”
being a father is so difficult.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 8 months
Note
Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:
Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.
But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.
Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.
But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.
And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.
Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.
She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.
Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.
Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)
— 🫔 Anon
Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵
18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes
The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.
It’s the smell of their omega in distress.
But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.
The smell of an omega in heat.
But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.
Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.
Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.
“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.
There’s no answer. The flat is silent.
“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.
Except, you’re not.
It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.
Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.
“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.
When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.
You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.
“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.
Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.
Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?
They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.
“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”
You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.
Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.
“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.
“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.
Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.
“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.
“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.
They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.
It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.
“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.
You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.
“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.
2K notes · View notes
forcemeanakin · 7 months
Text
Hot with brains
Tumblr media
•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, dirty talk, praise kink and also degrading kink, corruption kink kinda??? Edging. Public space. The OC has a kink that attracts her to smart guys.
Pairing: ROTS!Anakin Skywalker x Female!reader.
Summary: Anakin falls for the librarian at the Jedi Temple, however, he soon realizes his adorable smile and golden curls won’t cut it with this one. No, she likes something different: brains. 
Word count: 4.7K. 
A/N: Pretty self-indulgent piece. I've been obsessed with Anakin's engineering brain ever since I got into Star Wars and this idea had be floating around for a whileeeee. Hope you all enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it!
————————————————————————
You liked smart guys. 
It wasn’t a kink per sé. You just couldn’t see yourself hooking up with someone with no brains, let alone establishing a committed relationship with them. You were swoon by guys with deep thoughts and admirable speech skills. The type of man that would go for a whisky instead of a beer, or use real shoes instead of plain sneakers.
You being a snob might have to do with your upbringing, after all you were the daughter of two scholars and professors of one of the most prestigious universities of Coruscant. You were raised to be logical and love intellectual conversations. You wouldn’t- No. You couldn’t see yourself enjoying a space with someone with a low IQ.
That was the reasoning behind taking the internship in the Jedi Temple’s library as part of your college voluntary program. You had to volunteer a certain amount of hours in order to graduate from your Journalism degree with honors. 
You thought that even though this wasn’t exactly the area in which you were specializing, you would soak up some of the ancient knowledge of the Order, even make some great connections for the future. And so far it has been just that: A great experience. You got to read some really cool books and in the hours where no one would come, you got to finish some school work. The Jedi who would visit the library were nice and kind, always polite with a big smile. You even grew really fond of a young Togruta padawan that would spend her breaks in between training devouring books. 
It was calm and quiet. 
Until the storm broke through the door.
“Is this the one you’re looking for?” You yelled to Ahsoka as you climbed down the stairs with the title she asked for.
“Yes! Thank you, y/n!” She gave you a hug and ran to her table to start reading about the swamps in Dagobah.
You returned to your desk and kept registering the book’s codes into the control sheet when a loud sound made you look to the door, the one that was violently being thrown to open room for a tall, curly-haired man with dark robes.
You would recognize those robes anywhere. In reality, anyone from any point of the galaxy would recognize them.
Anakin Skywalker. 
One of the few exceptions of Jedi men who didn’t live up to the sophisticated standard of the Order’s image. And definitely someone you would prefer to stay away from. For some reason he was the favorite warrior of the people; the citizens would line up in front of the Temple to scream “Hero with no fear” to that pretentious douchebag.
He was fine. 
As what most people would call courageous, you would say careless. To others he was passionate, to you he was irrational. Not to mention how idiotic and unsubordinated he was; always talking back and doing things his way, ignoring what the guidelines said.
You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him at all. For that you were thankful that he never set foot into your sacred place. Until that doomed day.
“C’mon, Snips.” He shouted, approaching the desk where she sat. “We need to go. Council just called.”
“Can I have five more minutes? I’ve barely read anything about where we are going!” Ahsoka whined.
“You don’t need to read anything, we will find out anything that’s necessary there.” He huffed, finding his apprentice’s actions ridiculous. 
You quietly sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course.
“Fine… but y/n really took her time fetching it for me.” She exhaled annoyed and closed the book. 
Your eyes remained glued to your task at hand, not willing to look up and be involved in some type of pending argument.
“Who’s y/n?” Anakin scoffed rather loudly.
“Y/n! The volunteer?” Anakin frowned at the short explanation and shook his head in a negative motion. “You know, y/n! C’mon Skyguy, follow me.”
No, please no, you whispered to your insides.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard Ahsoka’s little footsteps running to where you were. 
“What can I do for you, Soka?” You answered, still pretending that you were too busy to move your head from its position.
“Skyguy hasn’t met you. Here, Anakin, y/n. She helps us out here in the library.”
“Ahsoka, we’re not supposed to be having social meetings, we need to go-” You finally gazed up and in that moment, Anakin and you made eye contact for the first time; it was intense. It felt like something clicked for him. “You must be Y/n.” Anakin shook his head lightly, hinting a little smirk as leaned over your table with fixed eyes. 
Hell, no.
“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” You were bitter, totally unbothered by his chiseled cheekbones, or his gorgeous hair, or his plumped lips. Not even the scar had any effect whatsoever. He was an ass and that was automatically a turn off for you. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t met you. You must be new.” He explained with dreamy eyes, subtly checking you out. You cursed the moment you decided to come in today with a blouse who had a bit of a cleavage. “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”
“Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months now.” You suppressed the soul-eating need to roll your eyes.
“Oh, really? Sorry, I don’t come here much.” He leaned over even more, trying to keep eye contact even when you sat down. 
“Obviously.” You whispered on the low.
“Excuse me?” Anakin frowned, interrupting his beam to pout with confusion.
“Nothing.” You smiled widely with a fake grin. 
“Okay…” His frown deepened before a smirk broke out his lips. “Maybe I will make it a habit and visit more often.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, deciphering the effects of his statement on you. 
“You should.” You looked at him and gave him a side-smile, making his eyes sparkle. “Books are good for you.” You returned to check the order of nabooian books on your computer. 
“Yeah, books are cool but there are other things I would much rather check out.” He smirked shamelessly at you, the back-handed comment flying way over his head.
You felt like gagging. Not the good kind.
Before you could come up with a clever response and shut him down for good, Ahsoka spoke from behind him.
“Ugh, gross! Let’s go!” The kid dragged him out by his clothes and before he disappeared through the glass door, he winked at you.
That was the first time you have seen him. First of many, many more. 
Since the day your paths crossed, he took every fleeting moment to come and “read”, when in reality it was just him eating, or drawing or doing anything but opening a book. Taking advantage of your breaks, or whenever you returned to your seat after doing rounds, he would come over and make conversation. About his battles, his accomplishments, his close-calls to death… or about random facts he collected from his missions and travels; Anything that would maybe impress you.
And when he wasn’t doing that? He would drown you in compliments, to see if in fact, you soften up to him. Anakin was already aware of your no-so-secret disgust towards him the day he caught one of your eye rolls.
Did he care? No. 
He was persistent: admiring your hair, loving the way you had styled it in a little bun (even though it was because the heat was eating you alive). He would ask about the tasks you were performing, sucking at pretending to be interested in hearing about organizing books in alphabetical order. 
And it would have maybe worked; his good looks combined to his natural charisma were enough to make any mortal melt at his sight. You almost combust when you saw him carrying some wood boards into the library, the primal part of you rejoicing at the sight of his strong muscles stretching. The man was eye candy, whether you like it or not.
But, boy, were you tough.
Anakin Skywalker was not your cup of tea to say the least. You wouldn’t collaborate in his attempts to get to know you. You were so uninterested in finding out more about him when you had already scanned him. Just a way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good guy who was lucky enough to be born as the Chosen One, because otherwise, he would have never made it in the Order. He was determined, you would give him that. 
His approaches were never creepy or invasive enough to make you uncomfortable, only to drive you wild. Even when he was the worst part of your day, you had to keep the polite but distant charade going on, in order to protect your job. Your disgust towards him, instead of hurting him, amused him. He liked challenges and you were freaking Mission Impossible. Although he also saw the flaws in you: a pretentious prick girl who had probably achieved everything in her life thanks to nepotism. But he could see past that.
Because, boy, were you hot. 
And he was sure you liked it nasty. 
Underneath your goodie-two-shoes clothes hid the true you: he knew you loved being treated like a filthy slut.
“Hello, y/n!” Ahsoka squealed in an excited voice. You two have grown to adore each other. 
“Hey, Soka!” You responded happily, finishing to put some encyclopedias on a shelf. When you turned around, you saw she wasn’t alone. “Oh… good afternoon, Anakin.”
“Nice to see you too, y/n.” Anakin huffed in a sarcastic voice before strolling to where you were, Ahsoka following close behind. “Is that a new shirt? It suits you.”
“No, it’s the same white button up shirt that I’ve always used.” You smiled and turned around to roll your eyes in peace. He was too busy devouring your bosom behind the fabric to ever notice the barrier between his eyes and your skin.
“Y/n, do you think you could grab me a book about loreeks? I’m doing a little presentation about them for my science class.” Ahsoka asked you with a sweet voice.
“Oh sure… just let me look oveeeer…” You walked, stretching the words as you searched in the countless sections. “...here. It must be on one of these shelves.” You announced when you entered the exotic animals aisle. 
Digitating the code on your scanner you found out it was in one of the tallest shelves, only reachable with a ladder. Right when you were about to move it, Anakin came in.
“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll get it.” And he used the Force to bring the book down. “Here you go Snips, study hard.” He nudged her head, annoying her.
“Yeah, I guess… but it’s Friday. Can I read after I hang out with the other padawans? Barris and Meelo are going skating!” She gave her best puppy eyes, to which Anakin agreed, after giving it little to no thought.
“You didn’t have to give her the book, I could have done it.” You waited for Ahsoka to leave before dropping the bomb. 
“Easy there, kitten. I was just helping out.” He furrowed his eyebrows. As if the unnecessary nickname wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Looking down, he saw the rest of your outfit and lingered his eyes more than necessary in your short, black skirt. “On second thought, I might have let you do it.” He smirked confidently.
“Just stay out of my way, okay?” You growled, walking away from him to your desk, not without bumping your shoulder with his on your way out.
“What the hell is your problem?” He asked with an incredulous face.
You were done. The build-up from the past month was beginning to choke down your sense of decency. Not to mention that your day was already going terrible before he appeared: the droid that would always help you out was broken, significantly delaying your work day. Also, it was laundry day and you had to use your uncomfortable lingerie.
“You know what, Skywalker?” You turned around with raised eyebrows. “You’re my problem.” He opened his eyes in bewilderment. “I don’t like you. I don’t appreciate you coming in, all macho-” You made a mocking manner. “-acting like a goddamn superhero, only after cleaning up the mess you created in the first place.” You crossed your arms in your chest. 
“I’m a general, kitten, and I can assure you the war it’s not my fault.” He scoffed, he used the nickname again, knowing it would press your buttons. 
“And how many times have you messed it up bigger than it was?” You squinted your eyes, only to see him run out of words. “That’s what I thought.” You came back to digitating codes. “It’s like you don’t think. You are just a machine run by adrenaline and praise.” You finally rolled your eyes in front of him without shame. You tried to run down the reports that C7, your assistant droid would do, only to fail and almost delete everything in your computer. “And I can assure you I have bigger problems than dealing with you!”
“Okay, back down-”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yelled, getting desperate and throwing a tantrum at the device. You had enough for the day. You could leave, given that no one would come over this late, but your sense of responsibility prevented you from going home before finishing your work load. “I fucking hate this system!”
“Let me see-”
“Don’t! Just don’t, okay?” You swatted his hand away. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Could you stop being so stuck-up and let me help you?” He raised his voice, stepping up close to tower you. His eyes were on fire and you could sense that your previous comments did get to him, but for some reason outside of your understanding, he was still willing to help.
“Fine.” You chewed the words in your mouth, stepping down as you glared at him, giving him space to analyze the situation.
Instead of leaning down the computer, he went directly to C7, who lingered weakly on the side of your desk. He picked him up and put it on the table, moving him around his hands to examine the droid. He hummed after a couple of minutes, putting the mechanical body at eye level. “I see.”
“See what? What is it?” You pressed, trying to pick a glance from over his shoulder.
“I’m going to need my tools.” He murmured, dropping the droid back again.
“Wh-”
“I’ll be right back.” He exclaimed, before heading to the door in a rush.
“Wait! What?” You shouted, the shadow of his body the only thing visible.
You stayed alone for about fifteen minutes. You even got to thinking that he was pulling a prank on you, after yelling at him. But you stayed there, because well… what else would you do? You were beginning to fall asleep as you played with paper clips, when you heard the door being opened again.
“Finally! I thought you had left!” You sighed in relief, pushing your body off your desk. 
“I was getting my tools, I told you.” He frowned, lifting the heavy, dark red box to the white marble. “Now let’s bring this one back to life.” He smiled, before busting the carcass open. 
It took Anakin less than what you waited for him to get C7 up and running again. He flipped panels, snapped cables and pressed buttons, at an order that seemed random to you, until C7’s mechanical eyes opened again.
“Oh my God!” You laughed in disbelief. “He’s functioning again!”
Anakin smiled down at the table, as he finished up adjusting some screws. C7 sat up, analyzing his surroundings before getting up and going straight back to work. 
“I-I-” You were speechless. How did he do that? So fast? “I can’t believe you just did that.” You mumbled, still looking at C7 like it was a ghost. “Thank you, Anakin.” You turned around with apologizing eyes, twitching an embarrassed smile. 
“No problem. His transmitter was disconnected from the main system. I had to fix his-” The next couple of things that he mentioned sounded like pure gibberish to you, but he was very firm, so it must be true. Right? Sensing your bafflement, he spilled facts slower and quieter until he stopped talking, finalizing with a dry smile. “Yeah, it was nothing.”
He was starting to pack everything in his toolbox again and you had a pending need to say something. However, you didn’t know if you should kick off with a real apology or-
“How did you know all that?” So a pop quiz it was. In your defense, you were genuinely curious about the abilities he had just demonstrated. Mindblown, to be more specific. 
“About what?” He furrowed his brows, closing the box but leaving on the table. 
“About the transmitter, and the restraining bolt, and- and-” You were running out of technical terms. 
“Mechanics are second nature to me at this point.” He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the box. “I know everything about the topic, so, it was an easy fix. I’d have rearranged his central system if I had the missing part, but it’s very specific. What I did will do for now, though.” 
He was about to leave when he noticed the way you were leaning on the table, head on top of your fist to pay close attention to him. You were murmuring almost unhearable “uh-huh”s, totally lost in his words. 
“Sooo, you know mechanics.” You were such a hypocrite, you couldn’t stand the man fifteen minutes ago and now you were drooling over the sight of him explaining complicated shit to you. Snob. “You often fix things?” You tried to investigate, see if the throbbing happening between your legs was worth pursuing. 
“Sometimes… I often go to the hangar and repair the damaged ships or flip them.” He grinned without teeth. “The techs often ask for me. They say I have an eye for these things. Been working on droids since I was a kid, so.” Anakin wasn’t trying to brag, but his ample knowledge in mechanics was something that he prided himself on. 
“That seems like a lot of work.” You continued the small talk, slowly losing yourself over this spontaneous crush. 
“It can get tricky.” He dismissed, beginning to notice the glint on your eyes. He recognized the way your irises had darkened: He got those fuck-me eyes wherever he went. “Still haven’t found something I can’t fix.”
But it was involuntary. The fact that he was an expert on a matter as hard as mechanics scratched a part of your brain; It flipped a switch inside of you. Anakin was a different man under your eyes now. He was smart, hella smart. 
“Gosh, that’s so impressive.” You giggled like the girls that would flirt at him. Pathetic. But you quickly regained control, not before sucking up some courage and getting closer to him, posing more seductively this time. “That brain of yours sure hides lots of secrets.”
He hadn’t quite figured out why the change of heart, so it took him a moment to replay your evening together. It lasted a bit more than he liked to admit, but it hit him. Of course. An arrogant smile cracked his face. Of course you would be attracted to someone who was a master of something you consider relevant. After all, you liked to consider yourself an “intellectual”. Just to test his theory, he consciously started to brag about something else… something that would have your panties in a bunch if his hypothesis was correct.
“Wanna know another one?” He cocked an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the table to stand inches away from your face.
Your face shined with a slight pink blush, but it was the way you bit your lip that drove him crazy. That and your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah.”
“There’s a reason behind why I’m the best pilot of the fleet. And it’s not just because of my background as a pod racer or the Force.” He whispered, snickering at how soft your eyes had grown. “It’s actually because… I use physics.”
“Physics?” You almost moaned. 
“Yeah, physics.” He repeated, moistening his lips, a thing your eyes followed. “Self-taught, just like with mechanics.”
That ripped a subtle whimper out of you. Well, not subtle to him. 
“You-you understand math?” If it wasn’t because you were visibly squeezing your thighs at the newly acquired information, he would be completely offended that you thought he was dumb as fuck. 
“Love em.” He muttered, his intense stare glued to you, as his fingers put a string of hair behind your ear.
Like thunder, you were rushing to capture his lips and show him just how hot you thought he was now. Anakin freezed at first, taking aback by your sudden demonstration of affection, but when he understood that you were willingly -and enthusiastically- giving yourself to him, he wasted no time to embrace you back. 
Wet kisses splashed everywhere; it was fucking mess. You hung onto his shoulders while he groped all of your body, starting with your sweet hips, fondling your ass like it was his personal stress ball and finally landing on your waist. You pressed against him shamelessly, but in reality, how much shame could you still have when the man’s tongue was down your throat? The only thing you knew with certainty was that the sucking sounds and moans you both dropped were intensifying the already sex-filled atmosphere.
“Anakin.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice was failing just like your knees were. “W-why haven’t you gone to a proper school? Maybe get a degree?”
Was that seriously so important to you? The opinion of others? Anakin questioned in his own head.
Anakin was the kind of person that wasn’t susceptible to the opinion of others, especially regarding his own image. He was sure of the shit he knew and didn’t need anyone validating that for him. No expensive universities, no uptight professors; Obi-Wan was more than enough. Nonetheless, he had found a shortcut to get inside your pants and God as his witness, he was gonna use it. 
“Y/n.” He snickered right in your face, drinking in the power. “I don’t care about any of that. I'm a certified engineer, that’s how I got to build this myself.” Removing the leather, he revealed his mechanical limb to you, wiggling his fingers.
It was fancier than you ever thought a mechanical hand could be. Black with touches of gold; it was elegant and sophisticated, way more advanced than any technology you had ever seen in the orthopedics research field. And you knew it well, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon. 
It was no surprise to him that after spilling that last fact you were now shamelessly grinding on his half-hard. The fact that he was an engineering mastermind was such an aphrodisiac. And as much as he wanted to have another taste of your full, pink lips, the ones he often imagined enveloped around his dick while you scolded him, Anakin wasn’t willing to make the first move.
You were going to have to beg for it. 
“Anakin?” Your hands flattened on his pecs, back arching when he cupped your cheek with the cool durasteel prosthetic, kneading against it with soft eyes. He must have noticed how captivated you were by his invention. 
“Yeah, baby?” He continued the soft ministrations up and down your cheek, redirecting your gaze to his face whenever your eyes would deviate to his artificial limb. 
“You- Uhm, you built it from scratch?” You gulped when his thumb inched closer to your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip and pulling it open. 
Little obedient you put no resistance, and instead, stuck out your wet tongue to happily receive his digit into your warmness. But this time it was his index, the one you were bobbing your head into, eye contact not faltering even when you were practically giving oral to his hand. Anakin smiled pleased at your enthusiasm for pleasuring him and added another finger for you to lubricate. 
“From scratch.” He nodded, lustful irises boring into you. “Designed it too.”
You moaned around him, feeling content with being sandwiched between his firm torso and your desk, and with your mouth being fucked by his fingers. Saliva smeared all over your chin, you whined pitifully when your lips were no longer stuffed. On the contrary of leaving you all hot and bothered, Anakin lowered those same fingers to your leaky cunt, pushing your underwear aside for easy access. 
He groaned when he first inserted a finger, your gasping a sign for him to slow down. “Baby, you’re tight.” He seemed to love that about you. 
After adjusting to the size of his strong index finger, Anakin breached in with his middle one, repeating the process of you getting used to the coldness and girth all over. 
“A-Anakin.” You closed your eyes, involuntarily standing on your tippy toes. 
“That’s right, you’re doing so well. Taking my fingers like a true champ.” He bit down a condescending smile. “Atta girl.”
The initial discomfort was just a milestone you had to overcome to succumb to the pleasure that it was being fucked by Anakin Skywalker’s metal hand. His frigid thumb came to roll over your bundle of nerves, helping you relax into him and enjoy the sensation of fully riding his hand. 
“That’s it. Fuck my hand just like that, kitten.” He chuckled, finding a spot on your neck to latch on, leave a little souvenir of your encounter, and hide his pitiful laugh. 
Kisses were peppered along your exposed throat, your clavicle and jaw, his long eyelashes tickling you and making you clench around his metal hand tighter. Whilst you worried about not whining too loud for anyone to enter the library, Anakin was pumping his fingers at such an unholy pace to complicate your task.
“Shhh, baby. You need to be quiet. Wouldn’t like for anyone to come in. You could lose your job.” He mocked with a side smile and you had to gripped his bicep to keep your balance. “Could you imagine? Getting caught having sex at work? With a Jedi?”
You could perceive that the trespassing of the pseudo-celibacy Jedi code was turning him to no end, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes getting stronger when he said the last sentence. 
“W-We’re not having sex.” You corrected him, like it mattered. Like having him knuckles deep into you was somehow less frowned-upon than to have actual coitus.
That made him laugh and you wiggled underneath him, fighting to not let your tears fall. 
“You just wait.” His lips ghosted over yours, his breath fanning over your heated face. The increase of the movements of his hand was a sign that he had noticed the contractions around his digits, fully aware that you were close. “Ready to come, baby? Gonna gush all over me?”
You nodded, biting your swollen lip, losing the battle against your tear duct. Anakin used his other thumb, the one that was not torturing your clit, to liberate your abused lip. His mouth lowered to capture yours in a hot kiss, this tongue sliding on your inside until it hit your throat. So deep into you that you would never forget his taste; so deep you will never be able to deny him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered against his smile when you reached your peak, dissolving into this meaningless mass between his arms. “Anakin…” You rode out your climax, still rocking your hips to prolong the pleasure.
Anakin waited until you regained some composure to help you fix your clothes, putting back your underwear as he found it and lowering your skirt. His actions had you frowning: Weren’t you two gonna fuck? You were already mentally prepared to welcome his enormous cock in your tiny canal. 
He grinned at your puppy eyes and adorable pout, your flustered state funnier than it should be. It was almost enough to break him. But someone had to give you a lesson. 
 “At the end of the day, I’m just a soldier, Y/n. An incompetent one, according to you.” 
Before you could protest that, he was tilting his head in an accusatory manner. Like saying: Don’t even try it. And before leaving with his head high, he spat: 
“My apologies if that’s not fancy enough for you, ma’am.”
2K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 22 days
Note
This is more of an idea (feel free to not respond btw)
But what if married reader gets knocked up with Alastors fawn and the husband divorced her once he realizes the baby isn’t his? You can bet your ass that the deer daddy is already trying to ensnare the reader in his grasp lol
Hehehe i have never written a Part 2 so fast !
Part 1
————————————————————————
“Oh my Satan dear! Look at you! Ya look like you’re bout to pop!” Rosie exclaimed when you walked in her shop.
’Pop’ was an understatement.
You were very near the end of your pregnancy and it had not been kind to you.
You never told your husband about the incident with Alastor.
Would he had even believed you?
Alastor was A LOT of things, but the two of you were friends…your husband would think call you insane….
Your eyes widened seeing the very cause of your discomfort.
Alastor.
You wanted to dash out the door, run back home and hide.
The red Overlord turned around, hearing Rosie’s voice, you froze seeing his eyes look you over, you instinctively placed a hand over your stomach when his lips stretched into a smile.
You heard Rosie excuse herself to go get some appetizers but you were too focused to acknowledge her.
You were alone.
With him.
You took a shaky breath as memories from several months ago flashed across your mind, but you shook your head lightly to discard those thoughts.
”My my look at you” he purred approaching until he towered over you, beaming like a Cheshire cat “You really do make a fine mother” his large hand caressed the swell of your belly, smile softening when he felt movement.
”j-just leave me be please” you whispered, wincing when he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
Alastor chuckled ”leave you be? Oh ma cherie no can do!” 
He bent his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a whisper “especially since you’re about to give birth to my baby?”
You pushed him away, putting distance between the two of you. Your face was flushed, eyes narrowed “I am NOT having your baby! I am having my husband’s baby!” You defended.
But there was a sliver of doubt you always felt when it came to the little soul nestled within you.
Alastor’s smile never wavered “Hmm you sure? Because i remember vividly filling your cunt with my seed until it dripped down your legs” 
You froze.
”You took me so well I was positive you would be pregnant”
He took small steps towards you
”Did you tell your husband?” 
Your snarl fell at his words and he knew he had you.
”T-there’s n-nothing to tell” you said turning around, ready to leave. 
You didnt have to take this.
He hummed coming up behind you. “Nothing to tell?” He chuckled darkly as his lanky arms wrapped around you, cradling your swollen belly. He leaned his head on top of yours.
”Oooh darlin I’m hurt! You didnt tell your loving husband how you milked my cock? How I tasted the cunt that belonged to him? How I claimed you for myself? That I sent you home filled with my cum?”
You were shaking.
”How unfaithful you were? Could the poor man tell another man’s cum was inside you while he fucked you?”
He kissed your neck
”I can’t wait to meet our little fawn”
Your baby kicked causing him to smile.
————————————————————————-
Pain.
Thats all you felt as you tried to breath through your contraction.
”You got this honey! You’re doing great” your husband soothed as you wailed.
”One more push maam the baby’s almost here” the nurse reassured you.
Almost? It felt like you been pushing forever
”I cant” you panted.
Everything burned.
Your husband dabbed at your sweaty forehead, pressing a kiss to it “You got this baby. C’mon just one more push and then it’ll all be over”
Your eyes clenched and with a scream you pushed.
”Aaahh!”
Relief and then the shrill cry of a baby.
The nurses cooed “Ooh a healthy boy!”
she cleaned up the baby and you sighed as you slumped against the bed.
Finally.
”Ok mama” you felt a small weight on your chest.
Soft noises had you look down and you felt your heart break and bloom.
Red tufts of hair curled on the babe’s head and he looked at you with big red eyes.
He looked like you; round cheeks and a cute nose.
He looked nothing like your husband.
And every bit like…
”what the fuck” you heard your husband say. You turned to him, eyes wide.
He was staring at the baby.
”I-Its n-not what you think dear j-just let me-”
”You fucked Alastor” he was frowning, standing up from the bed.
You shook your head, tears swelling
”N-no that’s…I didnt i swear”
”I am looking at his exact copy. The damn brat looks nothing like me!”
You couldnt move “Honey p-please”
The man backed away. He was angry.
The baby began to cry, you tried to rock the poor soul, but your attention was on your husband
”Honey-”
”I should have known” he hissed lowly, pacing.
”I should have known by the way he acted. How you flirted with each other! The fucking radio demon!? Tsk!”
He turned to look at you.
”I dont want some bitch who takes me for a fool. Hope it was worth it you fucking slut” he turned to walk out.
tears ran down your face, your heart was racing “W-What? Honey no it wasn’t like that..it-it was never-”
”I want a divorce. You are dead to me”
and like that he was gone.
You sat there stunned.
Your husband just…left.
He left you and he didn’t even let you explain, tell him how or why all this was happening.
The baby cooed and you looked down at him.
You wanted to be angry, you had every right to be, but looking at this sweet soul…he didnt deserve your anger.
You were a mother now. You would do your best to love your child.
Even if you had to do it alone.
————————————————————————————-
“What a fine mother you make indeed my dear”
He smiled watching the little fawn latch to your chest and stare back at him with vermillion eyes.
You hissed at him, earning a quirked brow “haven’t you done enough?”
Soft static buzzed through the air as the Overlord approached you. You took a step back, as he extended a hand to the babe and rubbed his chubby cheek.
Alastor ignored your question ”How are you feeling love?” He asked as the baby nuzzled into your neck.
How were you feeling?
You were divorced, a single mother, and living with Rosie.
Shunned.
All because of him.
”Like hell but I know you’re not here to ask about my well being”
Alastor ignored your jab.
”I do care for you darlin and its only right that I provide for you and our fawn”
You went to growl, threaten him to die, but your baby reached out to the red demon.
Alastor’s face light up and he grabbed the fawn, cooing and tickling the baby.
Your son squealed and giggled, trying to grab at his claws.
”Let’s make a deal dearest”
You straightened at his words. A deal with Alastor was dangerous.
But you were at rock bottom.
”What kind of deal?” You asked cautiously.
”Marry me. Marry me and you’ll have nothing to be worried about. You’ll be protected, cared for, and have anything you desire.”
The baby was gumming at his collar.
”Be mine”
You bit your lip. What did you have to loose?
You sighed, taking your son.
You looked at the tall demon, green magic swirling around him.
”Do we have a deal?” he extend his hand.
You looked at your baby and then back at Alastor.
”I hate you” you said taking his hand,
You winced as your hand burned and watched a gold ring appear on your finger.
Radio static buzzed and then a soft humming. Alastor purred, smiling, fixing his jacket.
“Oh my dear” His arm looped around your waist, bringing you close to him as he chuckled “Such a good girl”
“Now! I think I have the perfect place for us to raise our fawn”
—————————————————————————————
“Uggghh Al you got a little something…” Charlie said nervously as she watch Alastor sip his coffee.
The little red fawn was hanging on his antlers, happily gnawing at the appendages. Alastor looked up, smiling “Oh he’s fine”
”Alastor have you seen…” your voice floated into his ears as you entered the lobby, stopping when you saw your son among his father’s antlers.
Alastor let out a grunt as the baby pulled at his ears “Hes right here dear”
Your baby babbled as you approached, squealing when you plucked him from his father.
You scowled the Overlord, placing the baby on your hip.
”How many times have I told you not to just let him hang-”
”da-”
You froze.
“Da…da” your son babbled, squirming in your arms.
Charlie cooed and Alastor smirked as the fawn’s eyes welled with tears as he reached for his father. Alastor walked towards you, scooping the baby from you.
You pouted as the baby happily chirped, nuzzling in his father’s neck.
Alastor sneaked a soft kiss to your lips 
“See he’s fine”
You sighed, rolling your eyes, arms crossing.
”Oh smile my dear. Maybe the next one will say mama first” he laughed, eyes settling on your round belly.
”After all you’re a great mother”
832 notes · View notes