#Happily Ever Aftermath

[happily-ever-aftermath]

Lumiere what you doing with your partners on valentines?

[yume-fanfare]

this is one of my favorite lines in the entire game btw

[laurelwinchester]

the but why would carla leave beau dots get easier and easier to connect every week.

carla: described as ''overprotective'' and ''a worrier.'' definitely portrayed as anxious. mostly wants to sit in a tent and play cards during a camping trip. new husband is secretly shady but outwardly boring. ambushes ex-husband at work because she heard something about a missing backpacker that, at the time, she had no reason to think was even slightly connected to her daughter's glamping trip. very unimpressed with the idea that her new husband and daughter have been snooping and pissing off potentially dangerous people the second she left them alone together. honestly just wants to relax and go fishing.

beau: written and portrayed as someone with almost a genuinely odd lack of fear and anxiety unless it has to do with his daughter being in ''those woods.'' regularly (and cheerfully) throws his entire damn self into potentially life ending dangerous situations every other day - examples: throwing himself onto the hood of a speeding car, engaging in a high speed motorcycle chase, putting himself in front of a loaded weapon handled by a grief stricken murder victim's family member. never has any backup with him other than jenny and sometimes poppernak. wants to buy sixteen year old child a motorcycle. unironically uses phrases like ''it's better to ask forgiveness than permission.'' got knifed by a dude who lived in the walls.

things beau and carla have in common: emily. fishing. emily. awkwardness. emily. both sexy. emily.

[theemporium]

[2.6k] following the aftermath of the impromptu vegas wedding, little leclerc and max navigate married life. and charles is still not coping well with the whole situation.

series masterlist

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“Does this mean I get to sit in the Red Bull garage in Abu Dhabi?” 

Charles’ head snapped around, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. And if he wasn’t currently on hold with the fifth lawyer he had contacted in the last hour, you could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped over the bed and smothered you with the pillow you were currently holding to your chest. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I want a change of scenery. I’m always in the Ferrari garage.”

“You’ve seen the Alpha Tauri and the Alpine garage too,” Charles retorted. 

You shot him a blank look. “That’s because you have Pierre watching over me like a stalker.” 

“No, he’s just being your friend,” your brother tried again. 

“So him barking at the mechanic who was just getting me water had nothing to do with the promise you made him keep?” You countered, watching as a flush of pink spread across Charles’ cheeks. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Liar, Pierre told me about the promise,” you mused, watching as his face burned even brighter at your admission. 

As it would turn out, finding a last minute lawyer to completely null and break the marriage was much harder than Charles ever intended it to be. And after he was practically forced to halt his attempts until the race had passed, the high of P2 didn’t seem to thwart your brother’s efforts in completely shattering the connection between you and Max Verstappen. 

He had spent every free and waking moment trying to sort out the mess, including now contacting lawyers back in Monaco to get involved. And yet, the boy seemed to be getting nowhere. 

“Shouldn’t you be focused on the last race of the season instead of this mess anyways?” You continued as your eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We need to leave for the airport soon. I don’t think they are going to hold the jet because you’re phoning divorce lawyers—even if you’re Charles Leclerc.” 

“You seem eager to stay married to him,” Charles grumbled under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Was this planned? Have you been seeing him for a while now?” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You shook your head, letting out a huff as you pulled the pillow closer to your chest. “How come Yuki isn’t getting as much shit as I am?” 

“Because Yuki is not my sister,” he stated simply, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Plus, Yuki and his partner seem very happily married.” 

You perked up a little. “Wait, you know who he married?” 

“Well no,” Charles admitted, his brows furrowing together. “But he must be, no? He’s been happy ever since the wedding. They must be keeping it private.” 

“Apparently he didn’t even tell Pierre,” you said to your brother, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “Maybe he’s embarrassed with who he married.” 

“Can’t be more embarrassing than marrying you—OW!” 

“Don’t say stupid things then,” you snapped back at him with an innocent smile on your face. “You’re just pissed I got married before you.” 

Charles’ glare hardened. “No, I’m pissed because you got married in Vegas of all places.” There was a pause. “And the fact you practically married a stranger!”

“Max is hardly a stranger, you’ve known him since you were like five years old!” You argued back.

“Still a stranger!”

“You are so dramatic,” you commented. “Maman accepted it, why can’t you?”

“Maman is confused,” Charles muttered with a crease between his eyebrows. 

You raised your brows. “Did you say that to her?”

Charles’ face paled a little. “Well no—”

Your grin widened.

Charles blanched. “Don’t you dare!”

You cackled as you reached for your phone. “This is payback for disrespecting me and my husband!” 

...

...

“I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.”

“It’s a precaution insisted by Christian.”

“Do all wives have to be blindfolded then?”

“The ones with the former name Leclerc do.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around Max’s bicep, letting him lead you into the Red Bull garage with the black cloth tied over your eyes. You knew you probably didn’t have long until Charles came running to drag you out of the Red Bull garage and back to the red side, so you took up Max’s offer in the meantime. 

You didn’t count on Christian Horner being two steps away from Red Bull’s very own Christian Grey to his garage guests. 

“Does this mean I get to blindfold you when you come to the Ferrari garage?” You asked, your voice lighthearted and your tone teasing. 

“It is one of the scenarios I would let you blindfold me,” Max answered and it took everything in you to not suddenly halt your steps. 

“Max Verstappen, you little flirt,” you said as you let out a disbelieving laugh, hoping the boy hadn’t turned back to look at you when you could feel your face heating up. 

“You’re my wife. Surely I’m allowed to flirt with you now,” the Dutchman retorted, his hands moving to rest over yours as you two finally came to a stop. 

“You’re saying you wouldn’t have flirted with me before?” 

“That feels like a trick question,” Max snorted before his fingers nimbly undid the knot behind your head, letting the blindfold fall away from your eyes as he stood in front of you with an almost smug look on his face. “But I would have flirted with you if I didn’t think your brother would have my balls for it.”

“So you just married me instead,” you retorted with a smile of your own.

“What can I say, I don’t half-ass things,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I should have known you give the vibes of a Vegas wedding kinda guy,” you remarked as you blinked a few times, getting used to the shift in light as you began looking around the garage. It didn’t look too different from the Ferrari garage, but it was still intriguing to witness it all. 

A different team. A different car. A different work ethic. 

After so many years with Ferrari, it felt like being in a foreign country as you stood amongst so much blue.

“What kind of wedding would you have wanted?” 

The question snapped you out of your daze, whirling your head around to look at the Dutchman with a curious expression. You waited to see if a witty remark was going to follow, but he continued to stare at you expectantly and you realised he was genuinely waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, I know my mother always wanted me to have a fairytale wedding at some pretty venue in a white dress and—”

“I didn’t ask what wedding your mother would have wanted, I asked what wedding you would have wanted,” Max interrupted, and your lips parted a little in surprise. 

“A fun one,” you replied. 

Max’s brows furrowed together. “A fun one?”

“Yes, a fun one. You asked me what wedding I would want and it’s a fun one,” you repeated with a nod of your head, smiling a little at the visible confusion written across his face. “Everybody always talks about weddings being so intense and stressful and that’s just…not me. I don’t care about where it is or what season it’s held in. I would just want to be with the people I love and I want to have a good time.” 

He nodded, his lips pressed together as though he was processing your answer. “Surely the Vegas wedding fits that.”

“It would have if my family and friends were there,” you said, laughing a little. “Despite the dinner invite, Maman will probably string me up for not getting married with her there.”

Max’s eyes widened comically. “Wait, she was serious about that?” 

You snorted. “She’s already sent me the menu.”

“I am actually having dinner with your mother?” Max hissed and, for the first time in your life witnessed with your own eyes, you could have sworn he looked nervous.

“She won’t bite,” you laughed. 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother.”

“Well, she does want to meet the man I married.” 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother as your husband.”

...

...

“Be honest: would you have made me a bridesmaid at your wedding?” 

You blinked, looking up from the burrito bowl you had managed to grab from Ferrari’s catering before you looked at the blond across from you. 

“Or a bridesman. Whatever you call it,” Logan continued as he looked at you expectantly. 

You stared at the American with a fairly blank expression, though it didn’t seem to do much to his eagerness for you to answer the question. Though, you didn’t know why you were surprised about the whole thing. The last week had been Logan throwing random questions at you, Arthur laughing at your facial expressions and Oscar deeply sighing at the whole interaction. 

“You weren’t even invited to the wedding,” Oscar pointed out, poking about the salad bowl he had. 

“Neither were you,” Logan retorted.

“And thank god for that, Lando showed me the pictures,” Oscar grumbled with his nose scrunched up. “I would have been traumatised for life if I witnessed it with my own two eyes.” 

“Hey,” you frowned, kicking your foot out under the table until you hit his shin. “You know what, I’m suddenly excited not to see either of you during the winter break.”

Oscar snorted. “Sure.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Logan piped up, his attention shifting to you once again. “Would you let me?”

“Depends,” you answered honestly as you leaned back in your seat. “Would you want to do a speech?”

Logan scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Then no,” you replied almost instantly.

The boy gaped at you. “What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” you stated simply before you glanced over at Oscar too. “Neither of you, if I’m being honest.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “Woah, what did I do?” 

“Existed,” you grumbled under your breath, only for the Australian to be the one to kick your shin under the table this time. “Ouch!”

“Not so fun, is it?” He grumbled back at you. 

“You didn’t even have a speech at your wedding! Surely no speech is worse than a bad one,” Logan added, far too invested on a speech you doubted he could even write.

“That’s not true. Yuki did a speech,” you told him.

Both boys’ raised their eyebrows. “He did?”

“Probably, seems like something he would do,” you shrugged. 

“Or maybe his partner gave it,” Oscar added. “Whoever that may be.”

“I can’t believe he still won’t tell us,” you said with your lips turned downwards. “In the Red Bull garage, Christian even asked him and he just giggled before running off.” 

“Maybe he’s a private guy.”

“You were in the Red Bull garage?” 

“Your difference in priorities are baffling,” you noted with an amused expression. “Yes, I was in the Red Bull garage. And Yuki being a private person is a load of bullshit. He’s the biggest gossip on the grid, he’s just sneakier than everyone else.”

“Which means he would hide it better,” Oscar pointed out. 

“At least Yuki would let me say a speech at his wedding,” Logan muttered under his breath.

“Would he though?”

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying—”

“You know what, I hope Lando scars you with more photos from her wedding,” Logan threatened, staring at the Aussie with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, my wedding photos aren’t that scary!” You frowned.

“The one of Max’s tongue down your throat says otherwise.”

“I am literally trying to eat my salad, can both of you shut up?”

...

...

“So, are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your wedding.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ha! Sure!”

Max’s brows furrowed together as he lifted his head, only to find the Australian staring at him already. They had both been huddled in his driver room in between meetings and practise sessions, enjoying some peace and quiet before the social media team tried to rope them into some weird activity. However, what Max assumed would be a mostly silent hangout where he could read over some data quickly devolved into the older Australian making little remarks until he finally gave in and put his tablet down.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” Daniel said as he gave the boy a casual shrug, though his grin only seemed to widen in response. Max was about to open his mouth, to tell him that was fine before he returned to his work, but the Aussie already began speaking again. “I just think it’s such a funny coincidence that your childhood crush is now your wife.”

Max froze, his cheeks instantly heating up at his words. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“No? The conversation where you told me you had the fattest crush on Charles’ little sister growing up and used to constantly try to impress her on the karting races she visited doesn’t ring a bell?” Daniel continued, feigning innocence despite the fact he could see Max’s face growing pinker by the second.

“I think you have the wrong person,” Max said as he cleared his throat, suddenly finding his tablet interesting once again even though the numbers and words on the screen were practically gibberish to his whirling mind.

“And the conversation where you couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was when you bumped into her in the paddock on Charles’ first Formula One race?”

“You must have imagined that conversation.”

“What about the time you ignored that famous actor because Lando told you he flirted with her when he visited the Ferrari garage?”

“I have no recognition of that.”

“And the time you—”

“Is there a point to this?” Max suddenly interrupted him, his face feeling as though it was on fire and his heart beating wildly in his chest and the smug look on his friend’s face was doing little to help the feelings bubbling in his stomach. 

“I am just waiting to see when you’re going to admit you masterminded this whole thing,” Daniel said to him, so sure and blunt about the statement.

“I didn’t mastermind anything,” Max said with a frown. “We got drunk and we got married in Vegas. Many people have done it before us. Many people will do it after us too.”

“And the fact she was your first love?” Daniel questioned.

“She was not,” Max scoffed, pausing for a moment before he continued. “And even if she was, I don’t like her like that anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Daniel snickered under his breath. “So I am assuming you’re rushing to help Charles find a divorce lawyer then?”

Max paused for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I mean. After the last race, obviously. My focus needs—”

“To be on a race that has no effect on your life other than adding another trophy to your shelf?” Daniel teased. “As if you couldn’t be talking to lawyers on the radio whilst racing with your eyes shut.”

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Max huffed out, clearing his throat a little.

“Uh huh,” Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “You know, usually the first step is a date, not marriage but I am going to respect whatever lil’ mastermind plan you have concocted in your head.”

Max let out a whine, throwing his head back. “I don’t have a plan!”

Daniel raised his brows. “So inviting her to watch the race from the Red Bull garage is just a random act of kindness to the enemy then?”

“She’s my wife, not the enemy. And it’s not random at all.”

Daniel snorted.

“Oh fuck off,” Max grumbled. “This is why you weren’t invited to the wedding in the first place.” 

“Actually, you did—”

“Shut up.”

...

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 261, 738 others

yourusername season over and out🫡gonna go bully charles with the dutch national anthem for three months now

view all 13,547 comments

landonorris that's just evil

yourusername shut up or i will bully you too

landonorris why are you so rude when i am literally your personal photographer

yourusername you still made me pay for dinner

user IS THAT MAX???

user omg not the red bull/ferrari contrast

user i wonder how charles is taking this

arthur_leclerc still badly

oscarpiastri i have been begging for you to wear a mclaren cap all year

yourusername keep begging, loser

user the montagues and capulets could never

logansargeant i'm taking the blue as williams support too

maxverstappen1 keep telling yourself that

yourusername be nice

user HELP THE WAY HE IS PROTECTING THE RED BULL BLUE IN THE COMMENTS

user this is my roman empire

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc take this down please

yourusername still no

maxverstappen1 too much red

yourusername you said i looked good in red :(

maxverstappen1 i said you looked good in red bull merch, get your facts right

yourusername someone's cranky after all the shots last night

user THEY HAVE JUST ACCEPTED THE MARRIAGE AND BLATANTLY STARTED FLIRTING ON MAIN STOP

charles_leclerc why would you say this

.

[redmyeyes]

Fellow Travelers sex scenes

I can't stop thinking about what Matt and Jonny keep repeating over and over again in interviews, regarding the FT sex scenes. That, in the writing and filming it was important that:

No two scenes were the same.

Every sex scene informed the story.

The characters were not the same before the scene as they were after. That they were changed by it.

So, let's talk about them.

"Pretend"

establishment of hawk's usual modus operandi -- brief fucks with strangers. he keeps a tight rein on his desires and won't allow himself to want more.

2. "Fold them."

establishing dynamics, hawk is in control, tim is being (happily) led. par for the course for hawk (or is it?)

3. "I'm your boy, right?"

tim can play, too. this dynamic is not one-way. the 'power' in this relationship definitely does not lie solely with hawk. you might even say this flips the power dynamic on its head. hawk is GONE.

4. "Do you like it this way? Your life, like this?"

not a sex scene, but one of the first slow, tender aftermaths. clear now that, for both of them, this goes much much deeper than just sex.

5. "I belong to Hawkins Fuller."

tim showing that he's willing to meet hawk on his level. the submission and dominance are so intertwined here they can't be separated. it's the willingness of that submission, the willingness of that Belonging, that changes everything.

and tim begging (through provocation) hawk to acknowledge him / what they have, out loud. "who do you belong to" = "i love you, i need you, tell me you need me too."

6. "It's your turn tonight."

a fucked-up goodbye, on hawk's part. he really thinks this might be the last time he's allowed to see tim, and he says 'i love you' the only way he knows how -- with his body, with service.

7. "Your Honor, I stand before you accused of being sweet."

crucially, not a sex scene. even more crucially, there is no sex at all in episode 5, where they separate for the first (and, they think, last) time. instead, we're shown what they're really giving up -- this too sweet (painfully sweet) domesticity.

8. "We don't have to do what we used to do."

the horribly empty aftermath. where they give in to "sex", of a sort, but it's dry and horrifically painful and NOT AT ALL what either of them want. because what they want is intimacy, not sex. and they're not allowed this.

9. "Stay with me."

the botched threesome, where craig is an afterthought, an excuse for hawk and tim to be together, and even then, horrifically painful in the way they LONG for each other and for what they can't have.

10. "I want you to fuck me."

a true surrender. again, hawk showing what he wants the only way he knows how -- through his body -- giving tim his willing submission, body, heart and soul.

11. "We'll be colleagues. We'll see each other every day."

not technically a sex scene, but the truest expression of them 'making love' that we ever get on screen. returning to #1, it's the polar opposite of what hawk had previously allowed himself, and it's what he really wants -- all the intimacy he'll shortly be sacrificing.

12. "That better?" "Oh yeah."

finally, finally, after all those years, a return to the true intimacy they were craving.

[fillinforlater]

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination. 

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake. 

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways. 

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty. 

"Irene," you say simply. 

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty." 

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease. 

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—" 

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair. 

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff. 

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today." 

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene." 

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes. 

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?" 

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state. 

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you. 

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave." 

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you. 

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud. 

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?" 

She can only nod and hum. 

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you." 

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds. 

"Master, it will finally be my turn?" 

"We've discussed this before." 

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her.  Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body. 

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling? 

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in. 

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—" 

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives— 

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom. 

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her. 

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility. 

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?" 

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..." 

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder. 

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides. 

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

[barcaatthemoon]

peer pressure ii || lucy bronze x reader ||

the aftermath of you sneaking out to go to a party.

part i

you were pissed as you made your way to the locker room. your fists were clenched, knocking into every corner as you rounded it. most of the team had already arrived, but you had been held up by a fight with your parents. your last fight with your parents if you had anything to do with it. from the way things had been, you doubted that they'd let you back in even if you tried to come back.

"morning kiddo," frido greeted you happily. you didn't even look up at her as you made your way over to your cubby. everybody's eyes were on you, and alexia looked like she was about ready to tell you off about your attitude when frido and ingrid pulled her back. "it's okay, i can talk to her myself."

"bon dia (y/n)," patri said loudly. she made a show of speaking loud enough to make it impossible to ignore without validating a lecture from alexia. lucy smacked the back of patri's head as she walked past, stopping right in front of you.

"let's go for a walk," lucy said. she waited for you to get your boots on before she pulled you up and out of the locker room. everybody was watching the two of you, but not all with the same expression. the team had all heard about you sneaking out to the party, but not all of them knew what had actually happened. alexia seemed to be hung up on the fact that you had drank and smoked weed, even though it was all out of your system by the time that you had been tested.

"are you going to yell at me?" you asked. lucy shook her head as she led you outside of the facility. "what did you want to talk about?"

"when's the last time you went home?" lucy asked you. you shrugged, not really sure where home was anymore. it had been a few days since your parents kicked you out of the house, but you hadn't told anybody yet. all they needed to know right now was that you were fighting with your parents. "where have you been sleeping at night?"

"my car," you mumbled. lucy's eyes widened as the realization of what you said settled in. legally, you weren't allowed to drive for another two years. the fact that you had purchased a car was really just so that you would have something when your driving lessons started next year.

"did you drive it here?" lucy asked you. you nodded, suddenly feeling like you were about to get in major trouble. "when we get back inside, give me your keys. i'll have mapi or someone take it to their place. you can't drive around, especially not here! what if you got in a wreck or something?"

"i've been careful," you mumbled. lucy sighed as she put her arm around your shoulders. "i didn't know what else to do, they told me to leave, so i did. they kicked me out, lucy, and honestly, i don't want to go back. it was one party, one fucking party!"

"hey, it's okay," lucy said as she held you in her arms. you started crying, and she immediately started to soothe you. "you can stay with me, okay?"

"yeah, not like you'd take no for an answer," you chuckled. lucy hummed in agreement, glad that you weren't fighting her on this.

…

living with lucy proved to be the best thing for you. the stress of living with your parents was lifted off of your shoulders. they hadn't wanted you as their daughter, they wanted alexia. lucy was more than content for you to be yourself. she even went as far as to tell you whenever you'd been doing well in practice, and reassuring you whenever you had an off day. it was like night and day, as was your overall attitude.

for the first time in nearly a year, you were back to being the happy kid you had been whenever you first signed with the senior team. things were great, even if you still had a lot of tension with alexia. that wasn't something that would be fixed easily, if it ever would. other than that, everything was going great, which was why you weren't surprised when it suddenly went back again.

you had never gotten a start in an el classico match before. your teammates had warned you that real liked to play it aggressively against barcelona, so you were prepared. lucy had been taking you to the gym with her, which meant that you had really built up a lot of strength in the few months that you'd been living together. their players could knock into you all that they wanted, but it didn't do much to deter you.

"hey, there's someone in the stands waiting for you," ona said as she grabbed onto your elbow. you were scared for a moment that it would be your parents. the group of spanish players at the barrier crowded around jenni helped you to relax. your parents were nowhere in sight, and jenni sent you a questioning look. she remembered meeting your parents before, and they had been huge fans of the team, never missing a game.

"jenni!" you hopped up over the barrier and straight into her arms. she hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i didn't know you were visiting."

"well, that would ruin the surprise. where are your parents? i wanted to say hi." jenni looked around the friends and family section. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, unsure of what you should say to her. "they're usually always here."

"i wouldn't know, we don't talk anymore," you muttered under your breath. you were standing close enough to jenni for her to hear you, but alexia should have been too far away. however, you could tell by the way that her face contorted that she had definitely heard you. "i don't live there anymore."

"what!" alexia exclaimed. you backed up to put some distance between the two of you, using jenni as a human shield as you did. "since when?"

"since they kicked me out. i don't want to talk about it, especially not with you of all people," you said. there was a bite to your voice that alexia hadn't heard in quite some time. you had definitely been distant with her, but it had been a long time since you had been snappy with her like that.

"after this, let's go to dinner, okay?" jenni suggested. you nodded before you raced off to shower and get changed.

…

"you know that alexia only acts like an ass because she cares about you, right?" jenni asked you. she had been trying to get you to talk about what happened, but you very obviously did not want to. "where have you been staying at?"

"lucy let me move in with her," you answered. jenni was relieved that it was someone responsible. alexia was the obvious choice, but there seemed to be some tension there that definitely hadn't been the last time jenni came to visit.

"did alexia have anything to do with you getting kicked out?" jenni asked. she was afraid of the answer, already having invited alexia to dinner. technically, it had always been her, alexia, mapi, and ingrid going out, but she had to invite you when she saw you at the game.

"not directly i guess, but it was hard living there when all they wanted was for me to be just like alexia. they thought i was too focused on things outside of football, so much so that they stopped letting me go to school. by the time i left, they only ever gave me my work whenever i asked to do something else instead," you said. jenni looked pissed as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "i know that i shouldn't be mad at alexia, but i can't help it."

"i understand," jenni told you. she leaned over as the car came to a stop to press a kiss to your cheek. "come on, everybody's waiting for us."

"is alexia there?" you didn't even really need to ask. you knew that jenni hung out with alexia every single time that she came back to spain.

"alexia, olga, ingrid, and mapi are all there. don't worry though, i won't let alexia start anything," jenni promised. you sighed and followed her into the restaurant. almost immediately, mapi pulled you into a hug, going off about how sorry she was that she didn't know anything was up before. ingrid was quick to follow suit, but alexia stayed back, unsure of whether she was welcome to hug you or not anymore.

dinner was nice, even if it was a bit awkward because of alexia's silence. the woman was usually pretty quiet, but she had never gotten quiet like she was then. jenni, ingrid, and mapi worked on distracting you from the tension, but it didn't work. finally, olga seemed to have had enough and pushed for alexia to talk to you.

"you don't have to tell me where you're staying, but are you safe and happy?" alexia asked. you nodded, smiling a little as thought about all the things lucy now did to make sure of that. you were certain that ona had a big part in a lot of the movie and game nights that you got to frequently enjoy, as well as keeping you on your school work. you'd still graduate late because of all the things your parents let you miss, but because of lucy, you hadn't fallen too terribly behind.

"lucy takes care of me, and ona reminds her to let me have fun," you said. alexia seemed to relax a little at that, a small smile gracing her face. "i won't go back to them, no matter what you or anybody else tells me. i'd quit the team and run away before i went back."

"you are being taken care of, that's what matters. just, next time that something big happens, talk to me. i need to know these things because i'm your captain, but also because i care about you too. if you're hurting or something is bothering you, i want to know so that i can help you," alexia said. you swallowed back some tears, not having felt like alexia was truly in your corner for some time. she seemed to notice this and stood up and walked around the table. "i'm sorry that i haven't been a very good friend to you."

"it's okay, i don't make it easy," you mumbled against her shoulder.

…

you weren't sure which of the girls had texted lucy, but she greeted you at the door with open arms. you were led straight back to her bedroom, where ona was waiting with snacks and a movie loaded up. you let the two of them cuddle you, even if lucy pretended that she didn't want to.

"dinner go okay?" lucy asked as she ran her fingers through your hair.

"it went fine. alexia and i cleared things up," you told her. you knew that was what lucy really wanted to hear about. ona let out a happy hum at your news, glad that maybe things wouldn't be so awkward later on.

"that's good, you've been very mature about this," lucy complimented. you glanced up at her, absolutely beaming. lucy chuckled and shook her head as she wiped a bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth. "now, the two of you keep it down. i'm getting some well deserved rest."

"goodnight granny," you teased. lucy swatted at you, rolling her eyes as ona started laughing.

"don't encourage her," lucy grumbled.

[happily-ever-aftermath]

Hey lumiere, do you like being held?

"I do indeed! There is nothing better than being carried or hugged."

"There are—ahem. I'd say there are definitely some things I miss."

[alchemistc]

visions are seldom all they seem

an: warning for a hint of dubcon hidden in amongst tommy's memories

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

That's a fucking fairytale if he's ever heard one. Tommy's had enough friends brought back from the brink, enough experiences of his own, to know that it's a crock.

When you die, you...die. You're there, and then you're not.

Tommy's legs are pinned, and there's smoke filling the cabin, and the last thing he'd said to Evan before he walked out the door was "Tell your father thank you, but I'm happily involved with a younger man."

There's something poetic about all of this, Tommy thinks, as he watches Garrett stumble to his feet, just beyond the door he'd managed to break loose to Tommy's left. Tommy hates poetry. Not necessarily as a general rule, but there's a lot of pretentious shit out there, and this feels pretentious. Maybe that's just the smoke inhalation.

"Kinard!"

Garrett's coming around the other side, lopsided and limping, but still pushing.

Thank fuck they hadn't been carrying passengers. He's pretty sure one of the blades had sliced clean through the hull behind him. He can't really look - there's something caught in his belt, pinning his back to the seat, and he's got one arm too fucked to reach for the blade strapped to his hip, and another that wouldn't reach if he tried. He's losing blood, he's losing time. He's done the math.

"Kinard!" Garrett's not having much luck with Tommy's door, which makes sense. The landing skid had done good work with the whole right side of the bird. Tommy's pretty sure the aftermath of that piece of work is the reason he can't move his fucking legs.

There are tools, somewhere nearby, that might have been useful, if Tommy hadn't used Garrett's clear concussion against him in an effort to get Garrett the fuck out.

It's funny, though. Funny that this is the way he goes. Not in the initial crash, which they'd somehow both survived. Not even from the blood loss, though Tommy guesses the coroner will have something to say about that being a mitigating factor. Probably won't even be the fire, which Garrett seems to have banked, a bit, with the extinguisher he'd scrounged from - somewhere. No. Four tours and a dozen plus years as a firefighter and it's the smoke that's gonna get him.

The windscreen is cracked. If Tommy wasn't in the midst of dying, he'd probably be thinking up the most professional way to tell his superiors that his windscreen isn't supposed to fucking spiderweb out like that, but -

Garrett's got the extinguisher in hand again, which is a nice thought, except he'd watched him drain it earlier. But he's not -

Tommy flinches when the canister makes contact with the windscreen and it cracks a little more.

He wishes he'd texted something better to Evan than a thumbs up emoji in response to his "Be safe" text. Gonna look real fucking ironic in a few minutes, here.

The glass webs out further when the canister makes contact again, and over the crackle as the flames kick back up, Tommy realizes that Garrett's yelling at him. Has been, for a while now, most likely. He can't really hear it, or contextualize it, but he's definitely yelling.

Something cracks. A few shards of glass sprinkle on down towards his knees. Garrett's voice gets louder. "--uckley's gonna kill me if I fuck up your pretty blue eyes, fuckhead, so close them right fucking now, Kinard!"

It's not like he has anything better to do than take orders. He follows his instructions.

The windscreen doesn't shatter - it's built not to - but a second later Garrett's got something wedged into the seal, tearing at it now that the things mangled enough not to be airtight, and Tommy isn't sure where he'd gotten a crowbar, or how the fuck he'd climbed the nose with a bum leg, but he's a little glad he'll be too dead to get the lecture from Garrett's wife on making sure his copilot doesn't do dumb shit.

"-kill you to - little leverage wouldn't - 'mon Kinard - 'mme something to work -"

Tommy's flagging. He can't really breathe, anymore. There's chance the impact shattered a rib or two.

The windscreen actually folds, under the leverage from outside, but Garrett still doesn't know Tommy's pinned. He'd have had a better chance if Garrett had just worked the fire, but Tommy doesn't plan to tell him that. As it is, he sucks in smoke and blinks through the haze as Garrett folds the windscreen farther back. "Hold on, Kinard!"

Tommy laughs. "Not going anywhere," he says, which aren't the last words he'd have chosen for himself, an hour ago, but - seems fitting, anyway. He gets a feeble cough out, and then things go blurry.

"Fuck you, Tommy," isn't the last thing he ever expected to hear, either, but - well. Today's been FUBAR since he took the chopper up, so.

Fuck you, Tommy it is.

---

The field behind his grandparents house is loud, in the soggy twilight - frogs and crickets and cicadas, a cacophony of noise.

Oh, Tommy's absolutely gonna be pissed if all his friends just didn't get far enough into dying for the flashbacks. It's not like he could have asked any of the ones who'd actually kicked the can, of course, and Tommy'd never been actually all the way dead before. Just - on the brink.

This isn't anything like Evan had described.

Tommy turns. And there's nonna, in her sapphire blue muumuu, flicked with gold trim, grey hair permed within an inch of its life. He can smell the romas she must have brought in from the sun at dusk, and the espresso poured into her fancy china next to her porch chairs - a rocking chair he'd never had a chance to fix up for her before she'd been gone, the Adirondack he'd stopped fitting into when he sprouted six inches the summer between sophomore and junior year.

Nonna grins.

Tommy watches a firebug flit by him.

He blinks, and Nonna raises an eyebrow at him - the same way she'd done the first time he tried to lie about where he'd gotten the bruise on his chin, or why his knuckles were scabbed over, or what he thought of the model on her favorite set of dog eared bodice rippers.

Tommy isn't sure what he could possibly be lying about right now, but he doesn't get a chance to ask. Between one blink and the next the night, the frogs, and Nonna's back porch are gone.

---

Tommy fucking hates Dorian Gray. The reasons had changed, over the years, but even more than being wedged into this fucking deathtrap of a desk, with it's lose nuts and bolts and the arm on the wrong side of his fucking body (because Tammy Pritchard always got the lefty desk in every fucking class and not a single one of his teachers had ever thought to wonder why his handwriting on his homework had better penmanship and an incredibly unsubtle smear of ink when compared to his in-class assignments): even more than the scent of Heather Chester's perfume and the reek of weed and Cheetos coming off of Barry Trott, in the seat in front of him; even more than the squeak of chalk against the blackboard as Mrs. Henderson posits the question of the day (What is so horrifying about the painting?); Tommy hates this fucking book.

He sort of wishes this memory had taken him back to freshman year instead - at least he could articulate why Holden Caulfield had been a whiny little bitch.

It's not like he could say -

Well.

Actually.

This is Tommy's death rattle. So.

"It's a mirror," Tommy says, like he hadn't all those years ago. No one notices that Tommy's a few decades too old and more than a few inches too wide to fit in his desk. "It's an indictment on everyone who ever had a hand in creating such a beautiful monster."

Mrs. Henderson doesn't look up. Tommy doesn't know why he expected she would.

She'd never listened to him before, either.

---

He'd been expecting his dad, next, which is his own damn fault.

Captain Turner's zipping his pants back up.

Tommy rises from his knees.

The paperwork is there on his desk. A glowing recommendation for the flight training he's been denied twice already. Tommy's throat feels gummy. He can't remember when Turner stopped using condoms.

This isn't how it happened.

"Open your eyes, Kinard."

Tommy's eyes are already open.

---

"I'm proud of you, son," Gerrard says, and Tommy would very much prefer it if he was just dead, already.

The thing is - the thing is Gerrard looks genuinely pleased to see him - a rare enough thing in general, rarer still because this is the older Gerrard, the one he'd shut the fuck down in front of the very first chance he'd been given to tell him exactly how rank Tommy really thought he was.

"You know when to give up," Gerrard continues. And.

Oh.

Well.

Did he have a choice?

"Of course there's a choice. Make the right one. Keep on making it, Kinard."

---

Pain.

Christ. Tommy's had shrapnel under his skin for decades, now - he's been blown up, and shot, stabbed once, although that was a grazing blow, really.

This is so much worse. He feels like he's hemorrhaging, like his lungs are constricting, like -

"You're no son of mine."

Yeah. That'd been worse than the IED by far.

"Dad," he says, but the damage is done. His room is in shambles, which Tommy thinks is overkill - his dad'd probably found the Blueboy Tommy had tucked under the mattress a long while before he had swept all his football trophies off the shelf and emptied what looked like the entire contents of his wardrobe onto the floor.

On the plus side, it looks like he'd actually ripped his annotated copy of Picture of Dorian Gray in half, too, so small favors.

Only.

This hadn't happened. This was his nightmare scenario, the horrific dream he'd had every day for six years until he got out of basic and the nightmare scenarios turned physically violent, instead. If his dad had ever known an inkling of Tommy's inclinations he'd ignored it until the day Tommy made him stop ignoring it.

He'd never found his dirty magazine - just the one, because he'd been too fucking terrified of having a second one lying around somewhere.

Those words he'd reserved for something else entirely.

His dad had thrown a bitch fit when Tommy'd enlisted in the Army instead of the Marines, but those words - those were the words he'd gotten when the father he hadn't spoken to in three years learned that Tommy'd gone for turnouts instead of a gun and badge.

How do you emulate your father and rebel at the same time?

"Love you too, pops," Tommy says, and waits for the blink.

---

"Oh," Tommy says, and blinks open his eyes. Keith smiles back. It's a charming little grin, the first thing that had caught Tommy's eye across the bar three months before this night. And it's not - the room is all wrong, and it'd been midday, not evening, six hours between shifts and the first time their schedules lined up in weeks. Keith is all lithe muscle and smeared makeup, barely an hour out from his latest shoot.

"Don't say it," Keith says, and shifts his weight against sheets that aren't even the right color.

Tommy had wanted to say it, though. Thirty-odd years and he'd never had the courage to say it to anyone who might say it back in a meaningful way, but Keith -

They'd been all wrong for each other. Conflicting schedules, conflicting lifestyles, conflicting expectations. Keith would spend the next six months flying back for hookups, jet setting around the world on a campaign for Dolce & Gabanna, and then text Tommy to let him know he should get tested and never reach out again. Tommy would fly his chopper over the aftermath of a tsunami and wonder how it felt to drown.

The hands on his skin are wrong - rough with calluses, working hands. Tommy slides his thumb across the palm of one and thinks it feels like home.

"Don't go back to sleep," Keith says. There's something playing on Tommy's TV, which had never been in his room when he was with Keith.

That had been a recent development, actually, and technically it wasn't even his TV, but when Evan's lease had been up it had just made sense to the both of them to -

"Monster truck rallies, really?" Keith says, but the volume on the TV is too loud to make out what he says next. His mouth moves, and the words don't make it to Tommy's ears, and when he blinks again he thinks he can hear sirens.

---

The chicken barely moves as Bobby passes it off to Officer Grant, and there's some sort of significance to this moment, Tommy knows, but Sal is too busy making smooching faces at Tommy, his laugh deep and bracing, for Tommy to figure out what that significance is.

Eddie is staring at him from the passenger seat when he swings up into the rig.

"You need to come back," Eddie says, and that stupid fucking mustache twitches. "You stupid bastard, you have to come back."

---

"Just like that?" Tommy asks, staring at the transfer papers, and Nash looks at him like he knows too much.

"Have you changed your mind?"

Tommy's uses his middle and ring finger to pull the transfer papers closer to himself. Bobby hums, satisfied. "Good. I've got my eye on one of the new kids in training - hate to pass up on him."

Tommy shakes his head. "You still haven't replaced Sal. Who's even gonna train this new guy?"

Bobby's in his civvies. He's holding his rosary beads. Did he start out like that, or is this death knell just fucking with him now? "Not your time, yet," Bobby tells him, and Tommy doesn't -

---

"Just a little something I learned at the 118," Donato says with a grin, while Jerry eyes the blown up photo of Tommy and Evan kissing in the hospital lobby that's been hung up on the announcement board right next to Jill's kids butterbraid order sheet. One of the nurses must have taken it. Donato must have bribed one of the nurses to take it on the ride to the hospital. "We're, like, a base and a half away from wiener cousins, you know," she sing-songs, and Tommy tilts a raised brow her way.

He's still staring at the picture. When had Evan's hand made it that far into his turnout?

"I'm just saying, having been on the your end of those lips - congrats."

"Does it smell like smoke in here to you?" Jerry asks, and Tommy tries to swallow, tries to respond, but there's something stopping him from -

---

"Hey," Evan says. He's on nonna's rocking chair. The cicadas and the frogs are loud, against a backdrop of misty fields. It still smells like sundried tomatoes, but there's an antiseptic scent underneath it. There's a firebug perched on Evan's birthmark. "I'd, uh, really hate it if the last conversation we ever had was about my dad's weird obsession with you."

Tommy would also hate that. He goes to say so and can't speak. His chest is on fire, and his leg feels like it might give out if he takes a step forward. Evan's too far away, but he can still feel the calluses on Evan's fingers on his wrist, steady against his pulse.

"So, if you could just. If you could just open your eyes. Twitch your fingers. Um. I have a ring, and a speech, but I'd settle for like, you waking up to tell me you're leaving me for Andrew Garfield."

He's thinking of Andrew Lincoln, but Tommy can't get his throat to work to tell him so, or to remind him that Tommy actually hates that plot in Love Actually. Now Colin Firth...

The fingers slide from his pulse point to his ring finger. His leg screams. The cicadas drown out whatever Evan says next.

---

The lights in this room are too fucking bright. It smells of sterile metal and the cedarwood soap Evan uses. His hand is stuck to the bed.

"Tommy."

Tommy's pretty sure he's imagining the firefly perched on Buck's brow as he slides into his sight line, but the rest of him is real, and solid - his ridiculous fade and the curls askew atop his head and the slow blooming smile across his face, the hand sliding up his arm and the suddenly wet corners of his eyes.

"ey," he says, or tries to say - it comes out as croaky as the frogs that'd guided him through whatever strange dream he'd been having. He's losing the edges of it already, trying to grasp details even as they slip way. Evan's going to be so fucking disappointed they can't trade coma dream stories.

Evan hovers while a nurse looks him over, demanding ice chips from someone out in the hallway, and Tommy can't stop looking at him. He'd been dead. He'd been sure this was it, this time.

Tommy gets three ice chips down before he's allowed to speak.

"Why's the chicken important?" Which is - great. They've got him hooked up to good drugs. He'd meant to start off with the basics - I love you, and don't propose to me in a hospital room I know it's a Buckley special but I'd like to limit our significant moments here until they actually dedicate a wing in your honor. "Did Eddie shave the mustache while I was out?"

Jesus Christ.

Evan's laugh is wet, and his hand is wrapped around the cup of ice chips, instead of around Tommy's, which seem unnecessarily cruel.

"I love you," Evan says.

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. Evan informs him, eventually, that he'd crashed twice on the med-evac and been gone for a total of one minute eighteen seconds ("There's no significance to that. A coincidence," Tommy tells him. Evan doesn't fight him on it. Not then, anyway.) The flashing thing is still a crock of shit. Tommy's lost most of it before Evan gets around to 'you'.

Tommy finally gets Evan close enough to grasp his hand - slide his finger over the rough pad of his thumb, dig a nail into the forking lifeline in his palm. "Hey," he says, when Evan's grip goes tight, and tears well up in his eyes again. "Were you watching monster trucks while I was out?"

[hazbinwhoree]

Ok SOO THE NEW EPISODE JUST CAME OUT RIGHT, I was wondering if you could do a part 3 of the Adam x sinner fic where the sinner finds him in the aftermath of the fight and brings him back to their place. And like yk how sir p was redeemed, what if Adam comes back as a demon‼️ u write Adam so well, thx💜 

Adam’s Sinner

Part 3/3

A/N: “Adam is dead” Nuh uh.

When Adam had told her about his plan to attack the Hazbin Hotel, (Name) had told him it was a dangerous idea.

As he lay dying, Adam realized she’d been right. He was alone now, his exorcists having flown back to Heaven and Lucifer and his bitch daughter and her friends had left him to go take stock of the damage the fight had caused. Until suddenly, he wasn’t alone.

(Name)’s face appeared in his line of sight. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating, but he could never imagine the scream of pure agony she let out.

“Adam,” she sobbed, pulling his head into her lap and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Adam closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you without your mask,” (Name) realized through her tears. Adam smiled weakly. “Like what you see, babe?” He coughed up blood and (Name) cried harder.

“You can’t die, you can’t, please Adam, please,” she rambled through tears. “I think my fate is sealed. I’m sorry. I love you.” He closed his eyes and completely stilled, his chest no longer rising and falling. “NO!” (Name) screamed. “ADAM!”

She shook him gently but he was gone. Through heavy sobs, (Name) gently put his head back on the ground and threw herself across his body. She lay there crying for a few minutes before kissing Adam’s forehead and rising to her feet.

Adam’s body disappeared in a flash of gold before her eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to bury him.

With a heavy heart and tears still flowing, she made her way back to her apartment. When she opened the door, someone was standing in the middle of the living room.

“Welcome home, sugar tits, did you miss me?”

Adam had two spiral horns protruding from his hair on the top of his head, his wings were black, and he had a tail, but it was Adam. Without a second thought, (Name) rushed him, throwing herself into his arms.

“You’re here,” she cried. “You’re alive!”

“Reincarnated as a demon,” Adam agreed.

“Thank fuck,” (Name) sobbed into his chest. He smiled, holding her tightly. When (Name) pulled back, she looked up at Adam with an indiscernible look. “What?” he asked.

“Your face,” she said softly, reaching up to hold it. Adam melted at her touch. “Your real face. My handsome boy.” Adam blushed. “Shut up.”

(Name) just smiled. Adam leaned down to press his lips to hers. Her lips tasted salty from tears. She ran her fingers through his hair while they kissed.

“I love you,” she breathed when they pulled apart.

“I love you too.”

Adam lifted her up so they were face to face and reconnected their lips. (Name) kissed desperately, like Adam may disappear at any moment. When they finally pulled apart again, they rested their foreheads against one another.

“You’re here,” she whispered. “I’m here,” he confirmed. “Now we can see each other every damn day. Hope you don’t get sick of me.” (Name) hadn’t even thought about that. She laughed happily. “I could never.”

So it turned out that while Adam had reincarnated as his least favorite species, the pros heavily outweigh the cons.

He was happy.

[catcze]

Hi there, what kind of kisser do you think Wriothesley is? (this is absolutely not an excuse to request a scenario about making out with him nope nope nope <:3)

Although he looks pretty rough and bad boy-ish, I feel like he is actually a lot softer than one would expect (from the calming music in his office and the way he was so so gentle with the kid hhhhh)

OOOUGHIASD OKAY OKAY HOLDONNN 👀👀

A bit suggestive???? Like;;; I mean dude they make out lmao but there's no indication or even a suggestion of it going any further than kissing, so afaik i don't think i need to put an age restriction

When Wriothesley kisses you, he kisses like he wants to savor you. A tender hand on your cheek, another on your waist. He holds you steady and presses you close to his chest, but makes sure that his grip isn't one that leaves you bruised later. He's gentle as he guides your head to face him. Pale blue eyes barely ever leave your own— only in quick, short bursts to glance at your lips, before he looks back at you.

"This okay?" He always murmurs gently. Stills his hand, so that his breath only brushes your lips. He's sweet to you, waits for your answer patiently with the blush high on his cheeks. Be it a nod, or a soft yes, he always always always waits for your permission. And when you give it? His lips are meeting yours, pulling a sweet sound from your throat.

Wriothesley is never hurried— he kisses you leisurely, sweetly. Not to say he's not eager, though. His lips mesh and press against yours and pulls you until your chest is crushed against his. He takes his time with you. His arm curls around your waist, and your hands find their place in his hair, carding through dark spikey strands. He sighs whenever you scratch his scalp, and you swallow his breath greedily.

The hand that cups your face tilts you when he's had enough of small, sweet kisses. Tilts you just so, so that when Wriothesley detaches from your lips for just a quick second to press a kiss to your nose then dives right back in, the kiss feels deeper. Languid still, yes, but he's more intense now. There's a newfound hunger in his kisses, as he devours your lips, as if he's been starving and you're the only thing that can sate him.

When his arm squeezes just enough to pull a gasp from your lips, it is Wriothesley's turn to swallow it greedily, returning it with what sounds like a whine of his own. He's gentle in how he handles you, even in his growing hast to crush his lips against yours and pull the breath from your lungs.

"This has to be a dream," He murmurs when he parts from you, panting as he tries to gulp down air. You're no better, leaning against his chest, boneless in the aftermath of his affection. Wriothesley cradles you against him, runs a hand over your back soothingly as he holds you. "You're too perfect to be real," he says, half-joking, and you weakly smack his chest. You doubt he even feels it.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me again," you demand. With a breathless chuckle, the Duke happily obliges, all too happy to take up your attention once more.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

It’s hilarious how Vaggie made herself a ‘sinner’.

How that linked her up with Charlie is such a weird, round about truthful way, even when she was lying by omission about it.

And how amazingly dumb it all makes Adam and Lute look.

Thousands of helpless souls killed by her, but she didn’t do anything ‘wrong’ until she wondered if what she was doing was right. The divine powers in her life only took her wings and condemned her to hell after she doubted their orders, their idea of justice, and quietly chose not to completely follow them.

“You fucked up” they tell her “your mistake” she “left the band” “tried for a solo career". It’s so pathetic. They're so butthurt over the idea of one of their own having a mind of her own.

It’s also so funny, because they spin her simple act of whispering “Go, run. Now!” to demon kid she’d been holding at spear point like it was big defiant move- which makes it into one- even though she never challenged them openly, or threatened them.

Hell, Lute’s “You always were weak” plus exorcist Vaggie always frowning while her murder sisters all grin with glee as they kill sinners- it paints a picture of Vaggie never having been as into exterminations as she ‘should’ have been. Too weak to be a proper exorcist no matter how good at killing she was, not just “the traitor” but also “the failure”.

And she was scared of that. She didn’t want anyone seeing her spare that child, whispered her words to them in a back alley, out of sight.

She was scared of what would happen and didn’t even fight it when Lute took her eye and wings- she was scared and no threat in any tangible way, but apparently refusing to do one single murder is enough to freak Adam and Lute the fuck out.

One woman. Doesn’t do exactly what she’s told. After who knows how many decades of being one of the “top girls” at murder, a “bad bitch” named after “the best thing ever”, and they still get spooked by that tiny moment when she wasn’t under their total control. Like it's such a betrayal to them, her daring to so much as think this level of violence isn’t justified actually, and for a split second act on that thought.

It’s an instant ticket to ousting her from the exorcists AND from heaven, while they fly the fuck off again.

“If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky-”

and they do. After doing that to one of their own. They did that, to someone who was supposedly meant to be in heaven. They didn’t wait for divine justice- took it, and her eye, and her wings, and her halo, into their own hands and tore them away from her. Then happily, they spend the next three years up in heaven, slurping smoothies and doing more murder sprees.

until Vaggie comes strolling back with the princess of hell, there supporting her girlfriend and the idea that all the shit she did for so long really was and IS wrong.

oh and Adam and Lute are pisssssssed about it. They take her being there PERSONALLY, wanna solve it with VIOLENCE

She hurts them without even trying. Without even noticing they're there.

They're told to fix the princess of hell situation and they have no concept of forgiveness, of caring about sinners, so they guess (rightly) that Vaggie hasn't told Charlie about her past and bet (wrongly) that Charlie would never forgive her if she knew, and also assumed (rightly) that Vaggie would be terrified of that

But they don't get that she's scared of hurting Charlie. Of Charlie being hurt by her. It's a selfless thing. That's her whole PROBLEM.

Her running to hold Charlie after the reveal- her NOT breaking down when Charlie takes alone time in the aftermath, respecting that right up until she thinks Charlie's actively in danger- afraid FOR Charlie when the deal with Alastor is made, no crumbling that Charlie went to someone else for help, when being helpful to Charlie is basically her raison d'étre- agreeing to go alone to an overlord, after learning she can DIE and THIS OVERLORD knows how to do it- all this for the sake of Charlie's dream, their shared goal, their hotel. Their friends, resigned to despair in the hotel lobby, losing hope and maybe hours away from losing their lives

No shit she was never going to bow down to the blackmail?? It'd be like turning herself inside out. Charlie isn't just some "little hottie" or whatever, they're partners. They're in this together. Even when Charlie out loud doubts if that's true, it still is.

Lute and Adam don't GET what it means, that Charlie assumed Vaggie was a sinner already. That the thing she'd be hurt about was the lying, not the murder. She was scared of not really being loved by Vaggie- of everything else wonderful between them being a lie too, all that support and faith empty empty- she wasn't afraid of loving Vaggie, whoever Vaggie had been, she was afraid of who Vaggie might be now and that she'd never really believed in Charlie at all.

Charlie was angry at the thought that Vaggie didn't think she would've accepted her. The idea of not really being understood or trusted by Vaggie, that's what hurt.

And it goes against everything Lute and Adam are, Charlie actually caring about sinners while knowing what they've done- about an exorcist after finding out who they'd been- really trusting that people can change. Lute and Adam hear her say it and see her stand up for it and they just want her to shut up and die

again though, no shit she was going to stick with Vaggie after the truth came out, in the end. Once she had a moment to take a breath and step out of her head long enough for a reality check

Vaggie didn’t say to Charlie what she'd done or who she'd been. But she’s been and keeps doing what she can to follow that idea, unvoiced, from that day when she couldn’t kill a sinner- something Charlie didn't know about but now knows must have happened- A final death means no second chance and no worth as a person, but Vaggie didn’t think that, even before meeting Charlie she didn't think that.

She's always been on Charlie's side. They were on the same side before they ever set eyes on each other. All this time, for three whole years, and now she's off to go find a way to protect everything they've built together.

"-words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth"

Charlie never really stopped trusting her. Maybe she wondered if she should, but even then, she had Vaggie go to Carmilla to find the key that might save them all.

"She killed an exorcist in the last extermination. She knows how they can be harmed."

"But… I- I didn't even know that was possible."

"If you did, would you have told me?"

So Charlie asked. A pretty painful thing to say- and she said it even as she sent an angel to go find out a way to hurt other angels.

She DID trust that Vaggie WOULD tell her.

The irony of all this happening thanks to Adam and Lute trying to keep it from happening, and all of it leading up to Vaggie getting back part of what they took from her, because now she doesn't need them or heaven to be an angel anymore.

Charlie has faith in her. Enough to send her off on an important mission even after Vaggie hurt her- and send her right to the person who end up helping Vaggie get back her wings.

“The rules are shades of gray when you don’t do as you say”

Vaggie’s new fucking wings are gray when Lute sees them. When Vaggie’s standing over her, sparing her life, her wings and that one, fucking unexplained stripe separating her from the other exorcists, all of it is GRAY.

That visual gut punch of, you’re. Fucking. Wrong. You’re wrong about sinners, you’re wrong about supposedly protecting heaven, you’re wrong thinking you can just DO this shit. That imagery of an angel who DIDN’T stay in the sky because she DIDN’T think being angel meant everything she did had to be right- who’s here in hell, trying to protect sinners from heaven’s slaughter-

And Lute wanted Vaggie to “correct” HER “mistake”? Vaggie’s???

That’s Lute, admitting that people in hell can get second chances and make up for what they did. Admitting that “Sinful filth” like Vaggie can be redeemed in some way, by following Lute’s version of what’s right.

But wasn’t her and Adam’s whole thing the idea of blowing your shot? Getting no other chance after it?  

Oh yeah. Vaggie doesn’t believe that though. Not for sinners like her, not for angels like her.

She let’s Lute live. She does it to make Lute suffer, but there are a lot of ways to make someone suffer- an eye for an eye for example- and Vaggie chooses the one that doesn’t hurt Lute more than it has to, that leaves her alive, and leaves Lute’s suffering to be something completely of Lute’s own making (a HELL of Lute's own making, if you will) (Lute choosing to tear her OWN arm off to continue the fight-).

She's totally dismissive of the woman who was just going after her remaining eye like a dog after a bone.

Why is it that nothing Adam and Lute to do her matters?

Why don’t THEY matter to her at all?

Walking right past them, being so done with them up in heaven, not caving to the blackmail, only being worried about Charlie afterwards, not letting that crack in their relationship stop her from doing what she can for their hotel, Lute threatening to take her other eye and BLIND her just making her snark- even the vague threat to Charlie only gives Vaggie the oomf she needed to defend herself.

“Pathetic” she calls Lute. She’s right- they’re so pathetic, both them, Adam and Lute. They’re so scared of being wrong. So pissy over the idea of being less than great and perfect.

It breaks them. Adam’s last words are him having a meltdown in the face of not actually being hot shit. Where’s his respect, he wails, they should all be worshiping him! But they’re not. One of his random decedents stabs him to death because he would’ve done the same to her, and one of the last things he hears is Vaggie- the fuck up, the traitor, his former grumpy top girl Vagina- whooping with glee as he dies.

And Lute lives knowing that could’ve been her, too.

If it wasn't for Vaggie.

Being not all that didn’t break Vaggie. Finding out she was wrong got her to stop and think and change, not run straight on blindly into a fight that ends up with her (with HIM) dead.

Why does she go from terrified of Lute and Adam, to dismissive and annoyed and just all around not caring about them at all?

They gave up all her respect for them when they demanded the death of a child.

The father of humanity wanted a child killed. A helpless, whimpering kid, sacrificed to his ego and bruised pride, and for shits and giggles. His first lieutenant saw failing to do so as a sin worthy of hell. All this over a child. How could she ever take them seriously after that.  

She came down from high and chased the child and held a blade over them on divine command.

Then, somehow, she saw the HORNS in her own shadow above them- even though she wasn’t WEARING her MASK, and she stopped.

She was her own messenger angel.

She chose to give the child mercy, and became the sacrifice herself.

Vaggie stuck it to the man. Didn’t steal that life. And, terrified of what would happen to her next, acted selflessly. The same thing that got her left behind in hell should have earned her place in heaven, according to Adam-

heaven was shit to her though. Made her into a soldier. Sent her to kill and kill and kill. Taught her trust on the battlefield- in heaven, of all fucking places-

Timeline wise we see her very first smile when she meets Charlie. When a stranger does- again- the bare minimum for someone else.

When she’s back up in heaven later she isn’t wistful, just angry, uncomfortable, annoyed. She isn’t happy there. It’s not home to her, like her and Charlie’s room back at the hotel is. Why should it be? What good did she ever find in herself up there?

Down here though, she's happy. Hell is where her heaven started. So I guess in the end, she did find what she’d earned after all. Or it, Charlie, found her.

When “The rules are shades of gray…”

Sometimes they’re wrong, and you have to break them.  

People like Lute and Adam would rather crack under the pressure and die instead, but not Vaggie. They're out for blood. She's out for love.

Sucks to be them~

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (1)

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Reader and Spencer face the aftermath of their tryst. wc: 2,8k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"YOU NEED TO LEAVE."

Since when did her life come to this?

She wasn't sure what to make of when the words softly left his lips. The words weren't exactly pronounced in a way that the urgency was prominent, but she could still sense the weight of them as she stared into the dark walls of his bedroom, sprawled out across the bed of this foreign man she had spent the past two hours with.

What was his name again? Stephen? Sean? Or was it Sebastian?

It definitely started with an S.

Her eyes slowly made their way toward him, eying his tall figure as he carefully walked over to his drawers. He awkwardly tripped over a piece of her clothing which lay on the floor before mumbling some incoherent words. He shot her a dubious look past his shoulder and turned his body away, quickly grabbing the first thing he saw on top of his pile of clothes.

His sudden modesty seemed amusing to her when it was barely minutes ago they had shared the sex-induced fantasy of sharing body heat between complete strangers. It was as if he wasn't the one thrusting above her, eyes glazed in desire and mouth open in ecstasy, reaching the peak of his high with her legs wrapped around his narrowed waist.

Surely he hadn't forgotten all of that?

She prompted herself on her elbows and found the piece of clothing he had grabbed in his haste was a pair of brown pants and a nice clean dark shirt. She watched him again and under her scrutinizing gaze, he backed away even further.

His sudden discomfort should've offended her, but it didn't. Somehow it intrigued her how much he was trying to be oblivious of everything around him—the lustful tryst that took place moments ago. The naked woman under his covers. The sudden shrill of his phone ringing on the bedside table.

The latter seemed to catch his attention as he glanced at the source of sound with an alert expression. He crossed the room and quickly answered the call.

"Yes?" There was a muffled reply from the other end before he glanced at the still-naked woman staring at him with curiosity. He cleared his throat again and gave her a look. "I need to take this."

She shrugged. "Sure."

She saw him hesitate for a split second before slipping out of his room, throwing a short reply to the receiving end of his call that didn't go unheard. "Yes, Garcia, I have company." More mumbling. "What? I'm not answering that..."

His words were cut off as he closed the door behind him, leaving her to grasp the situation she had put herself in.

Having a one-night stand wasn't something she often did. She wasn't sure it ever happened again since her freshman year of college when sleeping with a senior at a raging party would solidify her college experience. It seemed right at that time. It was what everybody was doing and her innocent mind believed it was a good idea to expand her nonexistent romantic life.

New place, new experience, new beginnings.

The experience wasn't so bad. Brandon Wallace—who was now happily married according to his recent social media post—wasn't exactly the best lover she ever had, but he also wasn't that bad. It was the awkward moment after the endeavor that made her avoid any repeated situations with somebody she barely knew.

Which was why she was questioning why she let that exact avoidance happen tonight. Why she had stepped into her favorite bar on a random Wednesday night and laid her eyes onto the awkward man sitting a few stools away from her.

Maybe it was the way he seemed out of place. Wearing a crisp blue shirt and a vest over it, he sat in a poised manner while constantly wiping down the bar counter with the napkin he seemed to keep requesting the bartender for.

She was there because she needed the kick of alcohol to calm down the stress from her current work assignment. Jamison, her strict boss who didn't take no for an answer, was starting to make her consider the act of murder. But committing such a heinous crime wasn't exactly nifty, so alcohol was the safe bet.

And thus, what was he here for? The cold beer sitting in front of him was barely touched as he looked around the room in a very uncomfortable manner.

Maybe the fact that she was sitting in an almost empty bar had loneliness wash over her, or maybe it was the alcohol finally kicking in, that she found herself making her way over to him. She was only going to greet him, introduce herself, and remark on how he stuck out like a sore thumb when he clearly was trying to keep to himself.

The hue of the bar lights reflected into a golden halo around his head. She slid beside him, tipped her drink towards his way, and gave him a simple smile.

He shifted in his seat and turned sideways, throwing her a questioning look. Up close, she could see his features clearly. The sharpness of his jaw, his hooded eyes, the unruly mess of brown hair on top of his head. She could tell he wasn't sure how to react to her sudden appearance, but he didn't seem to mind.

She sat there, her lips inching wider at the frown forming on his brows. How could someone be awkward yet adorable at the same time? Y/n was about to introduce herself when he suddenly sat forward, threw her a hesitant smile, and slowly asked, "Do you have any change?"

The random question startled her. "Excuse me?"

"I... I need to pay for my drink."

She shot him a ludicrous look, not sure she was hearing him right. Was he really trying to ask a stranger to pay for his drink? So much for spending the night with what looked like good company. But before she could counter her disappointment, he reached out his hand and in a swift motion revealed a ten-dollar bill from the back of her ear.

"Never mind.” He waved the money in front of her face and cleared his throat. “Found it.”

She blinked, once, twice, trying to comprehend the past few seconds. Then her lips twisted into a wide grin, his own lips twitching into a shy smile.

His attempt at an introduction based on a silly magic trick tugged her heart in a way that had her leaning closer, fingers tracing across his other hand that rested on the table. She didn't know what had impulsed her to be so brazen. It was very unlike her to show interest in the opposite sex, but here she was, touching the warmth of his skin.

But then his breath hitched and her stomach dropped. What the hell was she thinking? Touching a complete stranger without consent as if she was trying to maul him in public.

She shook her head and backed away, an apology already hanging at the tip of her tongue when he suddenly leaned in and wrapped a hand around her wrist. The gesture was very innocent, but somehow his fingers manage to burn her skin. She looked up and held his gaze, found the same bashful smile still playing on his lips, and relaxed at the warmth radiating from his body.

And then the rest was history, to say the least.

Yet even after the travel from the bar to his place, after the haste of removing each other's clothes, and after the post-orgasm that left them both satisfied—although to be completely honest, she would've been more satisfied if he'd let her have her second orgasm—she was starting to question her decision.

She finally threw his covers away and slipped out of his bed. She picked up all her clothing scattered around the room and slowly dressed herself as she carefully tried to listen to the conversation in the other room. But all she heard was muffled voices, and deciding that she couldn't pick out his exact words, she tuned out his voice and smoothed down her hair with her fingers.

Feeling more presentable, she stepped out of his room and finally took in the personal space he lived in. Now that she wasn't preoccupied with unbuckling his belt, she realized how dark his apartment actually was.

There were stacks of books lined up on the walls and scattered papers laying around every corner. He clearly wasn't a clean freak. Although he did seem to dislike public spaces, and honestly she couldn't argue on that when her mind considered the sticky, sugary residue that coated the floorboards and every other surface of the bar.

His hushed voice sounded aggravating and she turned to find him standing in what looked like his kitchen, his back facing her. Not wanting to interrupt him, she decided to look around her surroundings, eying the few framed certificates hanging on one side of his walls. There were a lot of certified achievements he was definitely very proud of with his name glorified on each frame.

Dr. Spencer Reid.

His name was Spencer!

She let out a chuckle. She wasn't exactly good at remembering names. Hold on—doctor Spencer Reid?

Her eyes went wide. But before she could feed her curiosity, she heard footsteps coming closer behind. She quickly turned away and found him glaring at his phone as he strode into the room.

"Bad call?"

Spencer—it was nice to finally put a name on him—abruptly looked up. His eyes studied her in bewilderment as if realizing she was still there. Then his expression slightly softened as he threw his phone away on his couch. "Not really, it was a work thing."

She raised her eyebrows. "You still work this late?"

"I don't exactly have a scheduled working hour."

There were a lot of questions she wanted to ask. What kind of work did he have to be getting calls this late? Why was he inside that bar when he clearly looked like he didn't want to be there? Was he really a doctor? And why did he look so adorable with that frown across his face?

There was something strange and hollow in his eyes that she couldn't quite put on as his hand rubbed over the back of his neck. She could sense the awkwardness stretching between them and needed to fill in the silence.

"So..."

"So..."

She let out an awkward laugh. He, on the other hand, started to fumble with his words as he suddenly spoke, "Did you know that awkward silence is the result of a disconnect between people?" She peered up at him with raised eyebrows. "When there is nothing to say, or maybe one person feels uncomfortable in a situation and doesn't know how to respond."

She blinked in confusion. But he wasn't finished.

"Statistically speaking, 80% of communication is nonverbal, whereas 20% is verbal. So in a way, silence can also communicate just as much information as speaking does. It is used to express anger, sadness, excitement, and other emotion. It can also create tension in a conversation or release it..." He trailed off before letting out a sigh. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"You most definitely are," she confirmed. "Where did that suddenly come from?"

He looked away as a blush crept on his cheeks. "I have an incredibly active imagination. It—uh, it leads to a tendency for me to ramble as my thoughts are constantly flowing."

"And you just know all these random facts?"

"I have an eidetic memory."

"You don’t say?" Her sarcasm was followed by eying the framed achievements plastered on his wall before glancing back at his confused face. She sighed. "Look, I'm not better at this than you are. Let's just... I don't know, thank each other? Say goodbye? Shake our hands?"

His eyes lit up as another piece of information filled his brain. "You know, the number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to..." He trailed off again and suddenly gulped, mentally kicking himself when he realized the fact he was about share. "...kiss."

She couldn't help the smirk twitching on her lips. "Is that so?"

He absentmindedly nodded as his eyes glanced toward her mouth. She instinctively took a step closer, noticing the tension in his body as he quickly looked away. This man had just flirted with her using an adorable magic trick, had his head between her thighs minutes ago, and reached an earth-shattering orgasm... yet he had the audacity to act all flustered.

She should probably leave. That was what he wanted moments ago, wasn't it? The words came out of his mouth the moment he checked his phone before jumping out of bed at lightning speed to dress his naked body. He needed to be somewhere. He had this somewhat confidential work he had to do.

Yet somehow he was warm and her hands were surprisingly very cold. The heat radiating from his body called out to her and without registering what she was about to do, she softly placed the palm of her hands on his chest.

She was internally screaming when she inhaled a sharp breath, his scent suddenly engulfing her senses. He smelled slightly sweet with a hint of spice; a woody, earthy musk that was mixed with his natural scent of sweat and hormones. She peered up into his eyes, traveling down to his cheekbones before they rested on his lips.

A riot of emotion burst inside her as she saw his tongue flicking out and holy shit—she just stared at him, completely, utterly enraptured.

Her focus was on his hot breath against her mouth, his lips a mere inches away from hers. He was so close she could practically hear the fast pace of his heartbeat. She could feel him everywhere, his hard body flushed against hers, his head moving closer to her and—

Then his damn phone started to ring again and all her senses went to alert. She quickly took a step back.

Now that was her cue to leave.

And it was a pity because whether she liked it or not, a part of her wanted to stay. But that was not an option. He wanted her to leave and she needed to do just that. She needed this to be a one-time thing.

Because there was never going to be another time. The moment she walked out the front door, they were back to being strangers. She would go back to her life and he would go back to his, probably back to his seemingly not-so-normal job with the way he described his working hours. Or the lack of it, anyway.

His phone stopped its ring and he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He was back to being awkward and she was back to being rational. Although her heart was beating fast and she was as flustered as he was, she didn't him to know what, especially when it seemed like he was about to kick her out again for the second time.

She was too busy oscillating between stunned, mortified, and turned on. She refused to blush. She refused to appear even an ounce embarrassed.

His phone rang again and he looked flustered about what to do. She helped him decide by grabbing her bag that was conveniently hanging by the door. "I should probably go."

She knew she was slightly disappointed, but she'd be damned if he knew the truth. Her mother used to describe her as a spiteful person ever since she was young. But then again, was it so wrong to feel that way? She figured she was just evening the misery out. If something was making her unhappy she felt it was her right to bring at least equal measures of unhappiness.

It seemed relatively immature, but she didn't feel like caring especially how her night had turned out. She took a deep breath and worked out her pettiness.

"Thank you for tonight... Stephen."

He suddenly tensed. "It's Spencer."

She studied the frown on his face. God, she was evil. She would probably regret this childish behavior of hers, although that was something she could deal with later. The very least she could do now was to give him a proper goodbye before she turned her back towards him for good.

"Well, good night, Spencer."

She wasn't sure he even remembered her name or whether he was just as petty as she was. It was more likely the latter considering he had an eidetic memory. "Good night."

She gave him a final nod. He answered by throwing her an awkward wave, a tight-lipped smile, and an even deeper frown as she slipped into the cold air.

>> NEXT PART

[imtryingbuck]

Affair Part 2

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??

Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him

Word count: 3157

Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.

Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.

Masterlist

Part 1

“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.

He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.

It never happened.

He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.

“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.

“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.

“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”

“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.

“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.

“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”

Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.

“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”

“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.

As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.

His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.

Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.

“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”

“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.

“Sharon this isn’t going to work”

“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”

“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”

“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.

Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“

“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”

“No”

“You prick!”

“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”

“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”

“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.

“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”

“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”

“You-we made love James”

“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.

“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.

“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.

“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.

And ever the fool, he did.

~~~

The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.

But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.

Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.

In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.

“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.

“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“

“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”

She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.

She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.

Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.

Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.

~~~

It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.

Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.

Dating for her was, well….

“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.

“Stop flirting with me”

“I can’t help it милая девушка”

“Sam come and get your wife!”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.

“Your wife keeps flirting with me”

Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”

“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.

“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.

“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.

“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”

“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.

“I met someone..”

“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.

“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.

“Is he good to you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”

“Wait…he’s met the kids?”

“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.

“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.

~~~

Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.

“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”

“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”

“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”

“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.

“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”

Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.

Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.

Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.

To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.

Then that dreaded day came.

Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.

“Sweetheart what was that?”

“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”

“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”

“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”

“Who’s Ari?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.

Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.

The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.

~~~

It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.

The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.

Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.

It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.

The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”

“I can see that sweetie-“

He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.

~~~

Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[battlekidx2]

I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.

Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.

The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)

I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).

Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )

Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy

The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)

They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.

They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.

Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:

Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!

The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus

I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!

The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)

Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.

Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).

The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.

I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.

I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.

My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)

LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.

The Cure for Inexorable Boredom

Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)

Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)

Don't Say It

I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.

I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.

I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).

These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D

[mononijikayu]

“all that i am, when i’m around you” — gojo satoru.

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you. These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: all that i am by mirdjo

NOTE: i was gone for a while and i still haven't written, sorry about that. i recently lost my dog and i really couldn't do anything. but today is the jjk chapter drop, so i decided to write something. this was comforting to write, because gojo satoru is a comfort. i'm doing a bit better now. we will be back on schedule soon enough!!! i hope you enjoy this little drable!!! i love you!!! <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS TAKING TIME TO ADJUST TO BEING MARRIED. But being married to you wasn’t so bad, or at least that’s what Gojo Satoru thinks. He looks at you as you hum that tune from the radio — preparing breakfast for both of you and the kids.

He had just gotten home from a mission, but you were waiting for him to come home. That was new for him. That someone was up all night worrying about him. Usually, he and Suguru went on missions together. But there wasn’t anyone waiting for him to come back, to greet him happily like you did. 

Everything has been a whirlwind of changes and emotions. One that he hadn’t expected about this. Surprisingly, you both got along well as a married couple. You didn’t act romantically, of course. There’s…there’s none of that yet. But you both cared for each other a lot, acted like a married couple would. Satoru was surprised. It was like everything fit into place now. 

The dynamic between you had shifted in subtle yet significant ways, reshaping the very foundation of your relationship. These past few months had been a period of profound transformation for both of you, discovering what could be between you now.

He was sure that slowly but surely, it was still sinking in — you took his name, you were in his house, you wore his ring. You were more in his and your life now. You were more part of his life now than ever before. You weren’t his senpai anymore, and he wasn’t your kouhai either. You were now his wife and he was your husband.

For a while, Gojo Satoru found himself in an unfamiliar territory, uncertain of what to call you. It wasn't just a matter of addressing you by your name; it was about finding the right words to encapsulate the depth of your relationship. In the past, you were his senpai, the one he looked up to with admiration and respect. Then, you became his partner, someone he leaned on for support and guidance. But now, as husband and wife, the dynamics had shifted in ways he hadn't anticipated.

He hesitated to simply call you by your first name, as if it didn't quite capture the magnitude of your connection. You were still very much not in love. It was too hard to be casual with you. It wasn’t like it was a joke like he did when he was still your kouhai. It was real now. It was very much something that was a gap he had to think about for a long while. 

Calling you "wife" felt too formal, too distant for the woman who shared his hopes, dreams, and fears. It may have been an arranged marriage, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t an instigator. He was a willing participant, because he was fond of you. He wasn’t going to be calling you that.

Using "dear" sounded too old-fashioned, something his and your mother called your own fathers when they first married years and years ago. And "love" seemed too casual for the depth of emotion he felt for you. He wasn’t in love with you, yet. One day, maybe. But until then, he had to be able to give a name for you.

One day, Satoru approached you with a hesitant expression, his usual confidence tinged with uncertainty. "Hey, um... I've been thinking," he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You looked up from your book, sensing his unease. "What's on your mind, Satoru?"

He shifted nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "It's about... what to call you, now… now that you aren’t my senpai," he admitted, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's just... I know this is really different. But it’s not easy to just call you by your name or just make up one. So I wanted to ask you about what you’re comfortable with."

You watched him with a soft smile, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his worries. "Satoru, you don’t really have to ask me. We’re married now," you reassured him, your voice gentle and reassuring.

But he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty, the weight of tradition and habit still lingering in his mind. "I know, I know," he murmured, his gaze shifting to the ground. "But it's just... I want to make sure I'm doing this right. I want it to feel... natural."

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, your own affection for him swelling within your chest. "Satoru, there's no right or wrong way to do this," you said, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "We're in this together, remember? It's okay to feel unsure sometimes. But just know that you can call me whatever feels comfortable to you."

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. "Anything?"

You nodded, a warm smile playing on your lips. "Anything."

With a sigh of relief, Satoru felt the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Okay then," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "I think... I think I'll stick with trying to…trying to get used to your name. For now. If that's alright with you."

Your smile widened, a surge of warmth flooding your heart. "It's more than alright, Satoru." you replied, your voice filled with love and understanding. 

He liked the way you said his name.

But he can tell, slowly but surely.

You liked how he said yours too.

In that time, as Satoru endeavored to commit your name to memory as effortlessly as breathing, he found himself grappling with the concept of you being an intrinsic part of his home. The idea of you being his home. It was a notion that seemed foreign at first, given his long-standing familiarity with solitude and transience.

From a young age, Satoru had grown accustomed to living in isolation, even within the vast expanse of the Gojo clan manor. As the heir to the Gojo clan, he had resided in his own wing of the estate, separated from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But even within his private quarters, he never lingered in one room for long. 

The ever-present threat of assassination, a constant worry for his mother following the fate of his father, prompted her to frequently alter the layout and appearance of his living space. Rooms were rearranged, furnishings were swapped out, and on particularly paranoid days, Satoru found himself relocated to entirely different chambers. As a result, he never had the opportunity to truly imprint the features of any particular room in his memory.

Even during his time in the Jujutsu High dormitories, Satoru had maintained a sense of detachment from his surroundings. Though he had his own room, he seldom spent enough time there to form any meaningful connection to it.

With missions keeping him and Suguru occupied for days on end, and the few precious hours of rest often spent in Suguru's company, Satoru's dorm room remained as pristine and impersonal as the day he first set foot in it. Like the Gojo manor, it was a space devoid of personal significance, a transient waypoint in his journey through life.

It wasn't until he met Suguru and Shoko, and ultimately you, that Satoru began to understand the true meaning of belonging. Through your presence, he discovered a sense of stability and security that had eluded him for so long.

With you, he found a home—a place where he could be himself without fear or reservation, where memories were made and cherished, and where the bonds of love and friendship flourished. And as he reflected on the journey that had brought him to this moment, Satoru realized that he had finally found something worth remembering, something worth holding onto with all his heart.

Satoru often found himself lost in thought, reflecting on how different things were now. He loved how peaceful it had been just being around you. Even the little mundane details brought a sense of joy he hadn't anticipated.

Living together meant he saw you more than ever before, and since you weren’t going on missions nowadays, he found himself awakened to each and every day beside you, learning all these bright new facets of your personalities to light.

He noticed how you scrunch your nose when you were thinking too hard, a cute quirk that made him smile. Your bright eyes narrowed often when you focused on things, a look of intense concentration that made you look both serious and endearing.

You made a funny face when you realized something he had pointed out, a mix of surprise and amusement that was always delightful to witness. And then there was the way you smiled into your cup of coffee if it tasted good, a small but genuine expression of contentment that made his heart swell.

One morning, as he watched you prepare breakfast, he couldn’t help but just stare. You had a peculiar way of eating your breakfast. You put jam on your bread, humming quietly, and add your eggs, bacon, and the other side of the bread.  You looked so happy to eat it, grinning at how delicious it tastes for you.

The kids were already out for the day, and they would be here all day because they’re in school and there were still their after school activities. In truth, Satoru was too exhausted to get up from the bed, he did back to back missions after all. But you kept urging him to get up and eat breakfast with you. His stomach would hurt if he didn’t tell him. He can shower and sleep after.

He didn’t know if he was just too tired or if he was just out of his mind. But he felt warm inside. Just watching you eat happily. That you would make him this delicious meal. That you would push him to take care of himself. That you would take care of him. 

"You know, you have these little habits that are just... adorable." 

You turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "All of a sudden?”

“Why not? I think it’s true.”

“Oh really? How so?"

He leaned against his own chair, a playful grin on his face. "Y’know, I don’t think you know this but you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking too hard. Or how your eyes narrow when you’re focused. And that face you make when you realize something new—it’s priceless. Just know, you ate that sandwich and started nodding because you think it’s delicious.”

You looked at him flustered, eyes fluttering. "I didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, Satoru. That’s….so detailed.”

"How could I not?" he replied, leaning forward toward you. "I see you everyday. It was meant to be me learning something new about you every day.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs. "You’re making me self-conscious now."

"Don’t be." he said softly, smiling at you gently. "I love these little things about you. They make you... you. And I like that, y’know?”

You leaned back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "And what about you, Satoru? What little things do you have that I should be noticing?"

He chuckled at you, standing up and walking towards you. He pats your head, your face turning redder. "I’m not sure. Maybe you’ll have to pay more attention and find out."

"......I will." you promised, turning your head slightly to meet his eyes. You were too shy now. His grin grew wider. "I’ll make it my mission to do well for you."

He smiled, his lips brushing against your cheek. "I look forward to it."

“S-satoru, you can’t just do that!” 

He laughed. “Love you too!”

“T-that….. Satoru! You're a pain in the ass!"

"But I'm your pain in the ass!"

Satoru blushes at the fact that he was so bold to do that. He groaned to himself, his hands on his head. He purses his lips. But it felt good. It felt good to make you flustered. It felt good to make you feel a deep sense of contentment, just being with you. Just being silly around you.

These moments, these small, everyday interactions, were what made his life with you so special. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic changes—it was about the quiet, simple moments that you shared together. Gojo Satoru felt that he was all he was, when he was around you. 

In those moments, he realized that being married to you was more than he had ever expected. It was about finding joy in the mundane, discovering new facets of each other every day, and building a life together that was filled with love, laughter, and understanding. There were moments of tender domesticity that felt almost surreal—sharing morning coffee, debating over grocery lists, and falling into a routine that was uniquely yours.

As Satoru sat at the kitchen table, you poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Here you go, Satoru." you said, sliding the mug across the table towards him. "Time for you to join the coffee club."

He eyed the dark liquid with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "I'm not sure about this," he admitted, reaching out to tentatively lift the mug to his lips.

"You won't know until you try, y’know?" you teased, nudging him gently. “Go on! One sip!”

As Satoru tentatively raised the cup to his lips, anticipation mingled with apprehension. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to meet his nose, promising a bold and robust flavor experience. But as the bitter liquid touched his tongue, his features contorted into a grimace of pure disbelief. It was as if he had just bitten into a particularly sour lemon, his taste buds recoiling in shock at the unexpected assault.

The sight of Satoru's reaction was too much for Megumi to handle. From his position on the sidelines, he burst into laughter, unable to contain his amusement at his friend's expense. His laughter echoed through the kitchen, a joyful symphony of mirth that filled the room with infectious energy.

Despite the discomfort of the bitter taste lingering on his palate, Satoru couldn't help but chuckle along with Megumi's infectious laughter. There was something undeniably humorous about the situation, and he found himself unable to suppress a smile even as he struggled to come to terms with the unfamiliar flavor of the coffee.

Tsumiki, the epitome of kindness and compassion, didn't hesitate for a moment as she witnessed Satoru's struggle with the bitter coffee. With a swift and determined motion, she sprang into action, her nurturing instincts kicking into high gear.

"Here, let me help, Satoru–san!" she exclaimed, her voice gentle but firm as she reached for the container of sugar and the carton of cream nestled in the fridge. With practiced efficiency, she poured a generous spoonful of sugar into the mug, followed by a liberal splash of cream, expertly balancing the flavors to create a more palatable concoction.

As she stirred the sugar and cream into the coffee, a look of focused concentration settled on her features. It was clear that she took her role as caretaker seriously, determined to ease Satoru's discomfort and ensure his enjoyment of the beverage.

With a final stir, Tsumiki presented the transformed coffee to Satoru with a warm smile, her eyes shining with genuine concern and compassion. "Here you go, Satoru–san," she said softly, offering him the mug. "I hope this makes it more to your liking."

Satoru accepted the mug with gratitude, his heart warmed by Tsumiki's kindness and thoughtfulness. As he took a cautious sip of the now sweetened and cream-enriched coffee, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the transformation. The bitter edge had been softened, replaced by a creamy sweetness that danced across his taste buds with newfound delight.

"Thank you, Tsumiki," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're a lifesaver."

Tsumiki's smile widened at his words, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "It's my pleasure, Satoru–san," she replied, her gaze warm and earnest. "I'm always here to help."

He looks at you. “This is my only cup of coffee for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled at Satoru's expression, reaching out to pat his hand sympathetically. "Looks like coffee isn't for everyone," you said, trying to stifle your laughter.

Satoru nodded in agreement, his lips still puckered from the bitter taste. "I think I'll stick to hot cocoa." he said, setting the mug aside with a grimace. “This is awful!”

You laughed. “Well, I’ll make you good sweet ones, ‘toru.”

You took care of him in ways that went beyond what he had ever imagined. It was in the little things: the way you left notes for him to find, the meals you cooked together, the quiet support you offered without needing to be asked. It made him feel like a bashful boy all over again, experiencing a kind of affection and attention that was both exhilarating and humbling.

Being married, being husband and wife — this is not easy. His own mother was surprised that someone as young as him would consider it now. It was true that he had uncles that could marry you. Save you from the Zenin, the name was enough. But Satoru couldn’t admit to you then when you asked him that it was because you were you. You were all he had, now that Suguru had left him. And he couldn’t lose you too. He didn’t want to.

Satoru sat across from his mother, the weight of her words heavy in the air. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage, Satoru." she said, her tone tinged with concern. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There's no need to rush into anything."

He bit his lip, feeling the weight of her words like a physical blow. "I know, Mother." he replied, his voice strained with emotion. "But it's not that simple."

His mother raised an eyebrow, her expression questioning. "What do you mean?"

Satoru hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. "I... I can't just leave her unprotected. Not when the Zenin is planning to marry her to Naoya….he’s gonna hurt her." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "She needs someone to look after her, to keep her safe."

His mother's eyes softened with understanding as she reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm. "Satoru, you don't have to bear that burden alone," she said gently. "You have uncles who would gladly take on that responsibility. Maybe even your cousins. You don't have to sacrifice your own happiness for hers."

But Satoru shook his head, determination shining in his cerulean eyes. "It has to be me, Mother," he insisted. "I can't let anyone else take that responsibility. I have to be the one to marry her, to care for her. No one….”

His mother sighed, realizing the depth of his conviction. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself too, Satoru," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "Marriage is a partnership, and you can't neglect your own well-being in the process."

Satoru nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I promise, Mother," he said, a steely determination in his voice. "I'll take care of her, and I'll take care of myself. We'll make it work together. I know we will."

And as he left his mother's side, the weight of her words still echoing in his mind, Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of determination settle in his heart. He would do whatever it took to keep you safe and happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness in the process. Because for him, there was no greater priority than ensuring your well-being, no matter the cost.

Because he knew that you would take care of him.

And you would make sure he would be safe too.

You were just that kind of person to Gojo Satoru.

As Satoru sat on the couch, watching you move about the room, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. What would the future look like for the two of you? The thought filled him with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. There was so much more beyond the friendship that had been the bedrock of your relationship.

He imagined a future filled with shared dreams and challenges, laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks. He saw you both growing together, learning from each other, and building a life that was rich and full. The thought of children crossed his mind—a family that was an extension of the love you shared.

Satoru smiled to himself, feeling a warmth spread through him. This was just the beginning, a new adventure that you were embarking on together. And whatever the future held, he knew that with you by his side, it would be extraordinary.

"Hey, you should start pouring your hot cocoa, Satoru," you told him, pointing the spatula towards the boiling pot. "It’ll get too soggy if you let it overboil!"

"Coming, coming," he mumbled, snapping back to reality as he stood up from the couch.

He moved to the stove, reaching for the pot of cocoa. As he poured the steaming liquid into his mug, he couldn’t help but smile at how natural this all felt. You, bustling around the kitchen, humming softly; him, doing his part to help with breakfast. It was a far cry from the life he once knew, filled with endless missions and solitary nights.

Satoru watched as you deftly flipped pancakes, your movements sure and practiced. "You know," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "I could get used to this. Waking up to you, having breakfast together. For the rest of my life. It’s... nice."

You glanced over at him, a twinkle in your eye. "Just nice?"

"Okay, more than nice," he admitted, leaning against the counter. "It’s... comforting. Makes me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong."

You paused, setting down the spatula and turning to face him fully. "You do belong here, Satoru. With me. With us."

He felt a lump in his throat, emotions welling up that he hadn’t expected. "I know. And it means more to me than I can say."

You smiled, stepping closer to him. "You don’t have to say it. I can see it. And I feel the same way."

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I’m glad we have this. Us. I know it hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," you said softly, leaning into his touch. "We’re a team, Satoru. And we’ll get through everything together."

He nodded, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Yeah, we will. And I promise to keep doing my best to be the husband you deserve."

You hugged him back, your arms wrapping around him tightly. "You already are, Satoru. More than you know."

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Satoru felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known was possible. This was his life now—filled with love, warmth, and the simple joys of being with you. And no matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he could face them as long as you were by his side.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your lilac eyes. "You know," he began, his voice softer now, "I never thought I’d have this. A home, a family. I always figured I’d be alone, just me against the world."

You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing against his skin. "You don’t have to be alone anymore, Satoru. We’re in this together."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I know. And it scares me sometimes, how much I need this. Need you."

You smiled gently. "Needing someone isn’t a weakness. It’s what makes us human. It’s what makes us stronger."

He opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. "You’re right. And I’m grateful every day that I have you. That we have this life together."

You kissed his forehead, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. "Me too. We’re building something beautiful, Satoru. One day at a time."

He nodded, a sense of determination settling in his chest. "One day at a time," he echoed. "And I promise, I’ll be here for every single one."

You smiled, feeling the depth of his commitment and love. "And I’ll be here too, Satoru. Always."

As you both turned back to the breakfast preparations, the sense of shared purpose between you felt stronger than ever. The rhythmic clatter of utensils against pots and pans, the fragrant aroma of coffee wafting through the air—each moment seemed infused with a quiet but palpable sense of contentment.

In the simplicity of your daily routine, Satoru found himself feeling his heart beat just a little bit faster. There was a sense of profound happiness that he couldn’t quite explain, a feeling that bubbled up from deep within his chest and spilled over into every fiber of his being. It was a feeling that defied rational explanation, transcending words and logic to manifest as a pure, unadulterated sense of joy.

It was never going to be easy to explain, Satoru realized, nor did he feel the need to try. Some things were simply beyond words, existing in a realm of emotion and intuition that defied rational analysis. But it was okay—it was more than okay, in fact. For Satoru, the unpredictable nature of life was a source of excitement rather than anxiety, a reminder that every twist and turn held the potential for new discoveries and adventures.

And through it all, you were there by his side, holding his hand through every challenge and triumph. As long as you were there, he knew that nothing would ever be truly insurmountable. With your unwavering support and boundless love, Satoru felt invincible, ready to face whatever the world threw his way.

As he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a sense of gratitude washed over him, filling his heart to the brim. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting familiarity of home and the warmth of your presence, Satoru knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. And with you by his side, he was ready to embrace whatever the future held, secure in the knowledge that together, you could conquer anything that came your way.

Satoru took the pot of cocoa off the stove and poured it into two mugs, handing one to you. "To us. May we be happy together." he said, raising his mug.

"To us," you replied, clinking your mug against his. You smiled at the last bit. “May we be happy.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the promise of your future together, you both knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey—one filled with love, laughter, and the simple, everyday joys of being with each other.

All that he is when he's around you.

That's all he wants to be in this life.

And you would say the same thing to him.

But he didn't have to hear you say it to him.

Your eyes tell him so much more than he needs.

epilogue

Gojo Satoru stood in his cluttered office at Jujutsu High, sighing softly. There was a baby carrier strapped to his chest with a gurgling Gojo Satoshi nestled inside. The little one wasn’t really feeling his dear beloved father’s stress. But Satoru couldn’t expect much of his little dawn. He liked laughing, being stressed free and his mama. As Satoru moved around the room, he couldn’t help but stand still. There was little place to move. 

His cerulean eyes scanned the room, which looked like a tornado had swept through. Papers, books, and miscellaneous items were scattered everywhere. This was his first year of teaching in Jujutsu High and immediately, everything was already a mess. He didn’t expect it to be this way this quickly. Satoru was good at keeping things clean most of the time. But these days, balancing fatherhood and balancing husbandry and jujutsu — he really didn’t have the time to clean. 

Satoru didn’t teach methodically, like Utahime. But he still needed a basis for what he was teaching. So he had scrolls upon scrolls he borrowed from Gojo manor and even Mikoto manor. Along with books that Yaga–sensei would be looking for by now. He wasn’t just teaching things from his gut–feeling. That would get more unnecessary yapping from the higher ups than he already was getting. Plus, you’d end up yelling at him for that. Kids were at stake after all.

He didn’t know why he decided to do this today, if he was being honest. It was really not the time. You weren’t in town right now, you went back to Kyoto for a few days at your mother’s request. Nobuhiko was going to have his first teaching class in Kyoto Jujutsu tech too. And there was the issue of a barrier somehow being down in Kyoto. You had to deal with that. Satoru didn’t want to see you off. But well, you really had no excuse now that you were off duty. 

"Megumi, Tsumiki, help me out here," he said, trying to sound authoritative but mostly just sounding tired. "Your mother is out of town, and I can't stay at home moping around."

“Gen–san’s not our mother.” Megumi rolled his eyes, picking up some of the books.

“Well she’s all you have, and I’m lonely without her. So stand your butt and help me clean this up.” Satoru touts, as he starts to roll up the scrolls. Satoshi giggled watching his father roll it up. Satoru grinned. “You like it, huh? Yeah, the sound is fun, isn’t it?”

Megumi sighs, crossing his arms to his chest. “We could be playing some video games right now. It’s a Sunday too.”

“Oh cheer up, Megumi! I’m buying us ice cream once we’re done, hm?”

Tsumiki, ever the peacemaker, smiled as she cleared up some paper into the box. "Cheer up, Megumi! This is fun.  You never know what we might find in Satoru–san’s office.”

“More trash?” He waves around a newspaper that was out of date and puts it in the box.

“Something interesting, like….like this!” Tsumiki pulls out a book on the types of cheesecake. 

“See, ‘miki has the right idea, ‘gumi~”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head. “This is hopeless.”

As they began sorting through the mess, Satoru slumped into his chair, cradling Satoshi gently. The baby giggled, tugging at Satoru's sunglasses with his tiny, curious fingers. Each time Satoru gently pried them away, Satoshi’s giggles only grew louder, echoing through the cluttered office.

"Hey, don't mess with the shades, kiddo. They're part of my charm," Satoru murmured, his usual bravado softened by the affectionate way he spoke to his son. He placed a playful kiss on Satoshi’s forehead, making the baby squeal in delight. “We don’t want to make mama panic about a new pair having to be bought, you know?”

Satoshi didn’t seem to understand, as he kept giggling. Satoru couldn’t help but grin at how mischievous his little dawn is. “My baby is such a mischievous little one, hm? I’ll have to get you your own pair, shouldn’t I? So you and papa can match the look and be cool together, hm? Ah, that would be so cute~”

Megumi sighed as he opened yet another drawer filled with random items. "What is all this junk?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of disbelief at the sheer volume of clutter.

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, barely glancing at the drawer’s contents. "Important stuff," he replied vaguely, focusing more on adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "Probably."

“You can’t just say probably!” Megumi retorted back.

“Oh, it’s going to be fine~”

Tsumiki, more patient and methodical in her approach, carefully sifted through a stack of papers. Suddenly, she paused, her eyes catching on something unexpected. "Hey, what's this?" she asked, pulling out a stack of neatly folded letters tied with a red ribbon.

Tsumiki untied the ribbon and picked up one of the letters. She unraveled it and began reading aloud. 

"'My dearest darling, love of my life, the apple of my eye. This mission sucks. I really hate being here. I really wish I could just make the higher ups eat shit.  But the sooner I finish, the faster I’ll come home. You take care, hm? Eat well. Make sure Megumi still isn’t upset about the white wolf costume. We’ll get him the black one next year. Make sure Tsumiki doesn’t forget to pick up her new ballet shoes.  I miss you more with each passing day. Your absence makes the world feel gray and lifeless. I count the days until I can hold you again. Love your one and only husband that loves you in this entire world, Satoru.'"

Megumi's face twisted in discomfort. "Seriously? You wrote that? I thought there were phones by this point.”

“Writing love letters is nice, you know!” Tsumiki says, smiling as she looks tenderly at the letters. “It just shows that Satoru–san loves Gen–san! You’re such a romantic, Satoru-san!”

Satoru flushed, his face red as he was adjusting Satoshi in the carrier. "’miki’s right! And  those were private! And yes, I wrote that. So what? You've never seen a husband that loves his wife, huh?”

Tsumiki giggled, continuing to read. "'PS. Your smile is the light that guides me through the darkness. I can't wait to see it again and bask in its warmth. Forever yours, Satoru.'"

Megumi groaned. "I can't believe this. You're like a love-struck teenager.”

"Hey, I was pretty young then. And nothing wrong about it. It's called being romantic," Satoru defended himself, trying to sound dignified despite his red face. "’sides…..She liked it. And she wrote back, let me be clear! Her words are just as sappy.”

Megumi shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "I don't need to hear this."

Tsumiki, still amused, looked at another letter. "There are so many of these. How did you have time to write all of them?"

Satoru shrugged as he also took some of the letters in hand. "I have my ways. Plus, when you're away on missions, you have a lot of time to think about what's important. I liked being home, I like being with my wife and you guys. So, that’s what’s in here.”

Megumi didn’t want to admit it. But he was very glad that Satoru wrote about them. He sighed and instead muttered under his breath. "I thought you were supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not the sappiest."

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh. "One can be both, Megumi. One can be both. With a wife like mine? You’d be multi-tasking it all.”

As they continued to sort through the mess, little Satoshi started fussing. Satoru bounced him gently, cooing softly. "It's okay, little guy. Daddy's just getting roasted by your big brother."

“It’s well deserved slander.”

“Don’t listen to your big brother, Satoshi. Love is always winning!”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. "It's sweet, Satoru–san. Really. It's nice to see this side of you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Satoru replied with a smirk, taking the letter and waving it around. "This is only for my wife and you guys. Keep it zipped. I have a reputation to maintain."

Megumi rolled his eyes again, but there was a small, reluctant smile on his face. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, sappy pants.”

“Hey, that’s not a good insult!”

As the day went on, they managed to make a dent in the clutter, uncovering more hidden gems of Satoru's sentimental side along the way. Despite the teasing and the awkwardness, there was a sense of tenderness that filled the room.

Satoru looked around at his students—his family—and felt a warmth in his chest that rivaled any love letter he had ever written. Even with the chaos, the mess, and the relentless teasing, this was his life. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Alright, team," he said, standing up with Satoshi still strapped to his chest. He was giggling as he held his father’s finger. "Let's wrap this up. Who's up for some ice cream?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchanged glances, then nodded.

"Fine," Megumi said with a sigh. "But you're paying."

Satoru grinned. "Deal. And hey, thanks for helping out today. It means a lot."

As they left the office, Tsumiki couldn't resist one last tease. "You know, Satoru–san, you should write another letter. Something like, 'Today, I survived my kids reading my love letters. Love, the strongest—and sappiest—sorcerer.'"

Satoru laughed, ruffling her hair. "Maybe I will, Tsumiki. Maybe I will."