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#because i adore these things and i know that
steor-ra · 2 days
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Bring back the dead
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Y!batfam x neglected!Gn
(I do not own any characters named mentioned! )
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Being a Wayne had disadvantages, especially as the forgotten child of your father. You aren't supposed to be born, your mother isn't supposed to conceive, and you're not supposed to be linked to Bruce Wayne.
Yet here you are
You may not exist to your father, brothers, or sisters, relying solely on the butler for emotional support that your family has never provided since the day you arrived at the house. However, you do exist in the eyes of the media, scandalized by the fact that your mother was a whore who was snatched away by the drug she had consumed since the day you were born; your mother did not want you.
Growing up, you kept that information buried deep within you, along with the notion that your father never wanted you. No one in the family does. No matter what you do, how you do it, or where you do it, they will never bat an eye at you. Get it? Because they're a bat vigilante, so it's ironic that they will never be the bat hero that they are to you, and instead be the devils who made you occasionally ponder if you were born simply to be a ghost to someone who made you.
Haha
And now you live with the fact that your family will never come to you; they don't have the reason now that you're all independent and working for yourself with Alfred's long-term support. You don't expect them to come and help you, not even in costume.
Being a Wayne means dealing with villains who know Batman's secret identity and use it to kidnap his most vulnerable child and threaten the bat, or criminals who use you for ransom for a large sum of money, but you already knew how to handle it from all those years, and you already knew how to handle these situations because of all the years they occurred, and you've always managed to escape them without the help of your vigilante brothers and sisters.
It stings to know that there is no chance that your siblings will genuinely spend a moment of your time rather than brushing you off with a sheepish apology and a pat on the back using the same old justifications. They're busy.
Adding some promises that will always be broken again and again and again Until there's no hope for you to tug on.
As for your father, Bruce. He is too busy with two of his lives to even acknowledge you. Despite being the greatest detective of all, he never appears to recognize you among your siblings. Always rejecting you without even looking at you, too preoccupied with continuing to read his important papers to notice how his own child is rapidly dissapearing from his life.
Dick Grayson, your brother who has the potential to notice you but never does. You understand that his duties are in Bludhaven, and that he only visits the manor for whatever purpose, and you hate that one of them was because of Damian. Bonding with his newly added sibling and assisting the child in adjusting to his new surroundings. Doing all the things that he never did with you when you were a small child, hell, even younger than Damian, when you were first brought to the manor. Dick, the guy who adores his family but never looks twice at you.
Tim, just like bruce, that guy is always tired because he never leaves his duties as a vigilante, is too busy to care for Bruce's neglected child, and would rather uncover some unsolved cases than acknowledge the person who can heal him and the family dysfunction, but you don't hate him for his negligence. Aside from being the red Robin, you don't know much about him, and he's more of a stranger to you than an acquaintance. Isn't this sad? That is why he will not come to mind when you eventually decide to leave the manor without looking back; in fact, none of them will.
While Jason Todd have the chance to be forgiven by you because, out of all your "siblings," he has more fond memories with you than any of them, despite the fact that he rarely visits the manor. However, he is more of an acquaintance than a personal friend to you. But at least you know him better than Tim. Jason is the most difficult and easiest to grasp, so you'll feel more at ease with him should they decide to take notice of you and kidnap you back to the mansion.
Finally, Damian, the demon sent by the cosmos to make your life miserable, is not ignoring you like your other brothers; he is there solely to mock you until you die. Always harassing and degrading you in the manor's hallways, calling you names and talking about how you are undeserving of walking through this house because you are just an accident caused by a whore and his father, calling you weak because you can't defend yourself against someone younger than you and instead choose to ignore him and run away. You've never loathed someone so much that you'd die to be rid of them; you despise Damian Wayne, your own blood brother.
You tried to be the best siblings for him, fantasizing about how you two would bond, spending sleepless nights planning how you'd take advantage of your chance to finally have siblings in the manor despite having so many, only to be heartbroken by his heartless rejection of your offer.
And of course there's Barbara, Stephanie, duke and Cassandra but you never really got the chance to get to know them that much since you've already left the manor for good.
Leaving no trace of your existence.
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Living alone in Gotham is difficult; there are too many risks everywhere you go, especially as a Wayne, and even if you've tried to distance yourself from any ties to being a Wayne, you can't simply make the media forget about the infamous but forgotten accidental child of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne. Only Batman, your father, can, but he won't since he doesn't care; you don't need his help anyhow. You already learned how to protect yourself against the crooks of Gotham ever since you realized that no matter what happened, Batman wouldn't save you from it, therefore that's why you always carry a knife with you, and with the help of material art, you learnt not too long ago.
You're not that confident walking through the streets of Gotham though. There's many people who could recognize you for being Bruce Wayne's child, so they'll swarm on you, asking multiple questions. 
'Why are you walking all alone?'
'Where is your father? '
'Is it true that you're the biological child of bruce Wayne'
'Where is your mother now? Is she still roaming on the underground and whoring herself out?'
They'll laugh that your face and will continue to ask multiple questions that your teenage mind couldn't even comprehend as you've always thought the same thing
There's also some time where you've been kidnapped for ransom, only there when bruce declines their call on your phone multiple times that they'll realize that you're not worth it, so, they'll let you go as you question your worth.
But you're strong. You don't need bruce to save your ass like how he does to your siblings despite them being professional on fighting unlike you.
Oh, god. why are you so selfish? They fight villain's who could actually kill you meanwhile you're just handling some thugs that could be knocked out with their single punch. Stop complaining.
Would they like me better if I was kidnapped by someone more villainous like the joker or Scarecrow? Would they actually care if I die right now?
they wont wouldn't they?
You've been held captive in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere for an amount of $2 million. Your limbs are currently tightly roped together, with no way to release them. You tried two hours ago, but it is still not moving. You can only beg the gods to allow Bruce to answer the call they've been trying to send him, but it's always been denied.
You can't help but let out another sob as you hear the call being sent to voicemail instead.
The kidnapper lets out a frustrated sound when the phone is declined again, "Alright! If this motherfucker doesn't answer one more time, I am going to torture you alright, sweetie?" It smirks and rolls in a tray of equipment, which you think is the torture instruments, sending shivers down your spine as the silver's shone upon your eyes.
"If your big ol daddy don't pick up this call, you're dead."
Dad, please... i don't want to die...
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The manor felt more lonely than it ever was. The hallways felt like a never-ending tunnel, and the silence felt so uncomfortable for all of them that they couldn't help but squirm slightly in their seats.
Dick felt like something is missing...He doesn't feel that nagging feeling about talking to you for months now...
Oh yeah.
You, when was the last time he checked on you? Why can't he remember your voice or...or...The way you look?
Fuck, it's been a year since he checked on you huh?
So he checked each door one by one; the more he checked, the more guilty he felt for not knowing where your room was, and suddenly, it struck him... All of these rooms look the same; don't you decorate yours or even mark it as yours!?
He panicked. Do you even live in the manor? Where is your room, you didn't mention anything about leaving—ah!
He could just ask Alfred! Yeah, and he'll lead him to your room where he'd greet you and ask how your day was...
What exactly are you doing right now? He's ashamed to admit it, but he couldn't recall any occasions when you two would hang out; did he ever try to approach you? I do not think so. He'll make sure that will change as soon as he Sees you, whether you like it or not. right now, he needs to make up for all of his negligent behavior over the years. In fact, he'll remind Bruce and the rest of his siblings of your existence so that nothing will bother him anymore.
"Alfred!" Dick's lone hope of finding you stood out in all its grandeur, with a somber expression on the butler's face. Maybe Alfred knows where you are? He is the only individual who has ever been close to anyone joined to the Batfamily, so perhaps he does.
"Yes master dick? I assume you stand of need for something?"
"Um yeah– Alfred," he stammered. "Do you know where...y/n's room is?" The way your name sounds foreign on his tongue makes him want to rip it out.
"Young Master has left the manor a year ago, Master Dick. I've completely forgotten where their room is, considering it's the same as the rest of the guests rooms"
A year ago? he checked on you a year ago did he not? Why didn't he notice anything...that day.
Oh god, his baby sibling wouldn't survive outside of gotham. What makes you think that you can handle the harsh wind of gotham, You can't!
Shit he has to take you back, He has to take his baby sibling back. you'll die if you last outside longer. He have to find you, but how!?
He–he doesn't have your number nor know anything about you at all!
"Alright, thanks, Alfred," he murmured dejectedly, winning Alfred's sympathy. Who reconsidered something that you'll mostly get deranged at.
"Perhaps if you'd like, I can give you some video documentaries about them so you can find them."
Deeply apologies, young master, but your absence is making me worry all day.
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(Next chapter)
A/n: just a random thought at a random night lol, will probably be a series, sorry if I ever mischaracterizes anyone here, I just stick to the way many people views them like ಥ_ಥ english is not my first language so I apologize for any grammatical error as I just rely for translation of some of my languages there. Also! This is heavily inspired by @acid-ixx with his again & again series, @gotham-daydreams 's work, @i-cant-sing's work, and @klemen-tine's work make sure to check those out! OR ELSE!
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demoniccak-e · 2 days
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i feel like the way they say "i love you" is gonna be so different
like charles, he'll say i love you forever and ever and ever, and edwin will just hum along, pat his cheek, or maybe when they're saying bye and it's like "i love you, bye!!" and edwin is like "i'll see you, charles." charles just loves saying i love you!! he says it every chance he gets
edwin on the otherhand, doesn't say it as often. and i sort of think that it's not really because of his "old timey ways" but it's sort of like that. edwin is very particular about his words and how he talks and presents himself. so he'll have a response to every type of situation of "i love you" charles has and he feels it every time. but the reason he doesn't say it as often is because he really does love charles, and the weird thing that edwin has realized over the course of reading a whole lot (although not a whole lot) of romance novels is that the author really has to try to make the emotion pop out of them. and after reading those books, i think he's subconsciously took note (most likely from younger years) of two things "1) i love yous are big big things and they're supposed to be special and 2) it's said so often.
so knowing that these two boys, when they were alive, lived in hostle environments, i love you isn't said so often. charles' take on it is to say it every chance he gets because!! he can!!! and edwins take on it, is that he simply doesn't want the words to become such a version of obtuse that it doesn't have the same feeling.
so, everytime charles says I love you, edwin responds with actions and hidden words, and charles absolutely adores it because at this time he thinks that "he's SO old"
and then when edwin says it, charles literally needs to have a slowing down moment because. edwin. loves. him.
and one day charles is lounging on the couch and edwin is pacing and reading a book, trying to remember something the case and charles is in wait mode so he just says,
"you know, you don't say 'I love you very often,'" charles comments, then realizes that he should probably not finish off a sentence there, "no that it's bad! it's just- every time you say it, it's always like- and explosion in my chest, you know?"
and edwin doesn't even say anything. just pauses on his paces and looks at him, one hand balancing a book and the other was rubbing his lip. he snaps the book shut- for it was the one he needed- and walks up to kiss charles. charles sort of stares at him and goes,
"i love you," and he suddenly grins very hard thinking, god!! he always manages to make my soul feel so... clean and on fire at the same time.
edwin smiles down at him and says, "you know, every time you say i love you i always feel it. mostly it seems like a phrase passed around, just three words. but they hold a lot." edwin pauses, then decides, "so when i say them, i always make sure that they're new and special, and that there's more than one way to say it back."
i just love them
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hanniebaeee · 1 day
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Baby Fever
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Bang Chan x fem!reader
Warnings: baby talks?
Genre: fluff, established relationship
Summary: You and Chan are at a baby store, shopping for a friend's baby shower. And your husband experiences baby fever for the very first time.
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The minute you step into the store, it feels like you've stepped into some kind of wonderland. The soft pastel shades, and soothing music in the background are just so overwhelmingly cute. You and Chan stroll through the store, browsing through the shelves for some gifts for your friend's baby shower.
You split up briefly, as you look through some cute little onesies, and Chan wanders away. A few minutes later, you realize that it's a bit too quiet, and Chan is nowhere to be seen. You look around, placing the onsie back in its place and your eyes search for your lost husband.
You start weaving through the aisles, your phone in hand to give him a call. And that's when you spot him.
Chan is standing in front of a display of baby shoes. In his hands is the tiniest pair of pastel blue baby shoes you've ever seen. His eyes are filled with awe, his lips curled into the softest smile.
You couldn't help but smile, leaning against a nearby shelf.
"Channie... everything ok?"
He jumps slightly, turning to look at you with wide eyes.
"Aren't these the cutest?" he asks, holding up the shoes like they were the most precious thing in the world. His voice is so full of excitement, you couldn’t help but laugh a little.
"They are cute," you tease, walking closer.
"So tiny!" Chan says, his cheeks glowing pink.
"They're baby shoes Channie, of course they're tiny." You say softly.
"But," Chan doesn't look like he understands. "How can anyone have such tiny feet?!"
You giggle watching him examine the little shoes in his hand, and it's just so pure and wholesome, your heart swells with love.
"That's how babies work, Chan. They have tiny feet, tiny hands... tiny everything!" You say, touching his arm gently.
"I know...its just, different, seeing it like this." Chan looks completely gone by now.
"What's on your mind, baby?" You ask, seeing the way Chan was so lost in the little thing. "Do you want to buy these for Jisoo?"
"What? No." Chan says quickly, holding the boots to his chest. "What if we… you know… need them someday?"
His cheeks are so red by now. You stare at your husband, trying to wrap your head around what he's trying to say. Sure, you've talked about babies before. You both want to have kids one day. But you've never really thought when.
You raise an eyebrow, amusement bubbling up inside you.
"Someday?"
Chan grins shyly, his ears turning slightly pink.
"You know…maybe... for our baby?" His voice is so low, you can barely hear him.
You bite your lip so you don't laugh, not because of the suggestion itself, but because of how adorably serious he looks.
"Chan, you can't just buy baby boots without a baby!" You say, covering your mouth with your hand as you laugh.
"But look at them!" He waves the tiny shoes in front of your face. "They’re so small, and soft, and—just imagine our baby in these!"
His eyes light up, and he's completely invested in this thought.
You lean in closer, your voice soft as you tease, "You can buy them once we have someone to wear them."
You wink at him and pretend it's nothing, but the effect is instantaneous. Chan’s face changes, the playful grin fading. He blinks, his lips parting slightly as his gaze locks with yours. And it's your turn to blush, as he says something that catches you completely off guard.
"Then let’s have a baby," he says, his voice soft but determined.
"Wait, what?" you stammer, as you blink in surprise.
"I mean it," he says, clutching the boots close to his heart. "If you’re up for it, I want this. I want… us to have a baby."
For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your heart racing as you try to process his words. He is standing in front of you, baby boots in hand, with a look that is literally melting you on the spot. It is so absurdly cute and yet so deeply romantic at the same time.
"Channie-" You begin, but he just looks at you with those puppy eyes, making you want to just give in already.
But you reach out and take his hand in yours, and say, "We're in the middle of a store, baby. Can we go home and talk about this?"
His expression softens, but he is still holding on to the boots like they meant everything to him.
"Ok." He says, smiling at you.
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Later, when you both reach the checkout counter, you are billing the items when you see it. A pair of tiny pastel blue shoes sliding across the counter as the cashier scans them.
"Chan!" You hiss, giving him a look. "Are you serious right now?!"
He shrugged, a sly grin creeping up on his face. "What? You never know when we'll need them!"
"You're unbelievable."
"I just like to be prepared."
"Oh my God!" You just can't with his guy.
"I have a feeling we'll need them real soon. Just saying." He smirks at you as you shake your head at him.
Your heart skips a beat and you playfully shove him away, both of you smiling.
As you walked out of the store, you couldn't help but feel a little warmth bloom inside your chest. And as you look at Chan, you know that those shoes will come in handy sooner than you think.
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lovelookspretty · 3 days
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lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven
authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3
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(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)
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Liked by 14,082 others
dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!
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user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever
user2 ALMOST HAD HIM
user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭
↳ user4 i think they’re on and off
user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!
user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!
↳ user6 i’m crying .
user7 y’all don’t love them like i do
user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg
user9 they thought they could keep it a secret 😒
user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭
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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.
speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.
eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.
“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.
you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.
drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.
leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.
when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.
he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.
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“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.
drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.
he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.
“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.
“you have your homemade sandwiches—”
“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.
“assortment of chips!”
“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”
“can’t go wrong with your candies!”
“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”
“what?”
“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”
libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”
you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.
“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.
you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.
“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.
as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.
you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.
you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.
drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.
with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.
he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.
the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.
for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.
as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.
his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.
his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.
he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.
his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.
“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.
drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”
you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.
“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.
he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.
as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.
he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.
but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.
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@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey
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rqnarok · 1 day
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you cannot tell me that old man!logan doesn’t have a daddy kink…
cws/tags: sexual content. oldman!logan. mild daddy kink. subspaces. dd/lg undertones. crying. dom!logan.
Old man Logan would be so into daddy kink; the name rolls off his tongue easily—“So good for Daddy, sweetheart.” 
He just can’t help it when you accidentally call him by that name while you were reaching your high. He is the one who continuously brings it up; never letting go of it. Because he fucking loves it.
“Yeah’ that’s it, kid. There ya’ go.” Logan murmurs endless praises as you try to sink down on his large girth. Calloused hands are rubbing circles on the skin on your tummy, guiding you down and down, “Fuck. Ya’ feel me here, kiddo?” 
You only respond to his question in a whimper, closing your eyes and biting your lips as you try to take more of him. The sight of his pretty baby fucked out on his lap is the most adorable thing he has ever witnessed, “Wanna be good for dada, huh?” His mouth trails soft kisses on your warm cheeks and temple.
“Can you speak, baby?” To let him know you’re alright, you lightly bob your head as you place your hands on his shoulders to support your body and raise yourself so only his tip remains—before dropping down again—way deep this time, you’re sure you got all of him inside you and you gained some confidence.
Logan lets out a strangled grunt in surprise, “Hey, take it easy, little bug. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” He draws his palms on your back to cling you closer to his chest.
Slowly but surely, you rest your heavy head on his neck and rub your own head there to feel his untrimmed greying beard. You’ve earned your motivation again.
“I can do it, Daddy.” You plea to him, “Can’ do it. ‘M a big girl.” 
He tilts his head to lovingly scold you, “Don’t hurt yourself, little one.” Logan’s tired sugary smile only remains until you’ve managed to lift yourself upwards—your velvet walls wrap so deliciously tight around him and making him shut his eyes and inhale sharply, “F-fuck.”
“‘M a big girl!” You repeat as you bounce irregularly—feeling like you’ve overtaken him and everything else.
Well…not for long. 
Because after around five more times going up and down on him, you could feel yourself getting exhausted. Your eyes barely open up as you squeak a high-pitched whine—making grabby hands at him to get his attention. 
To get Daddy’s attention. 
“Ah- n-need help, Daddy.” You choke out, opening your eyes slightly to see that he’s already looking - observing you.
“Hm?” Logan hums as he brings his fingers to pinch at your soft cheeks, “Thought you’re a big girl now, baby?” His thumb rests just outside of your spit-licked mouth. Earning more humming approvals from the older man when you willingly open your lips and sucks it inside. 
“Wha’dya need Daddy’s help for if you’re a big girl?” He paraphrased his question again—his palm roaming below your breast before kneading each one of them. 
Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you’re feeling the stretch, “Daddy—” and the sting in your dripping pussy as an effect of your previous actions, “I-I thought I could do it…”
“What’d Daddy say?” Oh, you know you’re in trouble because he’s scolding you now. For not listening to him and to play-act in front of him. 
“‘M sorry!” You cannot help but cry out then wrap your arms around his neck, “Was just so excited, Daddy—need you so bad!” 
Logan coos your figure by threading his big hands through your hair, shushing you hiccuped sobs down, “Shh,”
After hearing your breath steadying, he ruts his hips up against yours. Circling and thrusting to your tight heat as you rest your entire body weight onto him. You tremble in his arms as you hear skin-meet-skin slapping sounds echoing through your shared bedroom. Fully giving yourself to fall in his embrace. 
“Ya’ see? Y’re just a little girl, baby. Daddy’s little girl.”  
You nod and make out a confirmation whimper. Before you register it, he starts to move you too. 
Yeah, you feel way much better like this.
Being Daddy’s little girl and letting him have all the control there is.
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icarusredwings · 1 day
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Thinking about that one post that was like
"Wade and logan spending multiple life times worth together, going through absolutely everything together to the point seperating them would just be plain cruel because of how soul tagged they are with each other and this just so happens to be the universe where they alone outlive everyone theyve ever known time and time again, so here they are, alone, but in each others arms in an old canadian moutian cabin, their front lawn looking like a grave yard with how many loved ones they kept with them. Theyre both old, wades wrinkles are just the light of this white manned beasts life and yet, they put collars on one another in the most caring and adoring way, caressing one anothers cheeks as Logan gives him not only the best 10 life times but also the gift no one else could bare to give him. Death. Unseathing his claws into his chest as quick as he can. And Wade to him, a knife stabbed critically. The best gift you can give your lover who can't die is the best life, yes, but a peaceful and coddled death is the ultimate goal. To lay there, bleeding out without a care in the world as Logan memorizes those pearl like eyes, and wade imprints the small smirk he has into his memory for eternity.'
And then someone reposted with two skeletons holding each other?
To that, I pitch after the last kiss Wade will ever give him, He smiles, because he knows he's made Wade as happy as humanily possible. Laying there for years or for hours, they're unsure. But they do know one thing.
"See ya at home, bub." He tells him with his last breath, an ungodly amount of blood gushing out the side of his mouth. But he's not sad. No, no neither of them are. They're relieved. Logans last act of service was bringing Wade Home. The place he never really felt right because he knew he was supposed to be dead by now.
And they'd find them in a week.
After the buzzards get loud.
After the insecets have made their claim.
After the foxes has had their taste.
After the raven has had it's say.
Id be home with you, I'd be home wih you.
Id be home with you.
I'd be Home
with
You.
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zhongrin · 2 days
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zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.
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muzzled.
featuring... ❥ wriothesley
involves... ❥ afab!reader, fem!reader, muzzle, restraints, teasing (reader → wrio), feral!wrio, sweet & degrading petnames used, mentioned collar & leash at the end, not proofread
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wriothesley was starting to regret agreeing to this.
the thing is, you’d lit up like a christmas tree as soon as he nodded, and the way your hooded eyes coupled with your signature cheeky grin were intoxicating in itself. he couldn’t help but growl from behind the muzzle you’d fixed around his mouth - that wasn’t part of the agreement, but it seemed like you, like the impudent-yet-endearing individual that you were, had planned this from the start.
“you look so good like this, wrio~” you hum, now stepping closer to tap on the black metal, crooning as if you were talking to an adored pet, “and now you can’t use those teeth to bite me, pup.”
he growled. the cuffs - his handcuffs, the one he always carried around - jangled behind him as he tried to move his limbs out of habit. part of him burned when you treat him like this. it was both pleasant yet humiliating, arousing and infuriating, to be reduced to a tamed dog, chained to its place.
your boyfriend received an amused chuckle from you. wriothesley’s eyes sharpened, his thighs flexing when he felt your weight descend upon him, sitting across his lap as if you belonged there. which you did. and he would have welcomed you with kisses and his arms wrapping around your waist if he weren’t in such… predicament.
seriously, why did he agree to this, again?
the man watched intently as you slowly traced the hard planes of his muscles highlighted by the black bodysuit, the heat and tension of being unable to grab and hold you driving him mad by each second. all he could imagine was him flipping your position, holding your body against him, and—
“you drive me crazy whenever you wear something like this, you know?” his thoughts halted from your words, breath hitching as he felt your hand grope and kneaded against his pecs.
“truly, sweetheart? more than when i’m naked?” though his voice strained, he challenged, cocking an eyebrow up as his lips tugged into a boyish smirk.
you huffed and punished him with a hand coming down to rest against his inner thigh, so close and yet so far from his growing excitement, the bulge evident against the dark grey pants. “still cheeky? i’ll have to remind you that you’re currently under my mercy.”
“only because of these blasted restraints and goddamn muzzle, doll,” the gravel in his voice deepened the timbre of his voice, causing an involuntary shudder to run up your spine, “the moment i get out, you know who’ll be under whose mercy.”
“ohhh? then you better work hard~” you sang, leaning in unabashedly to lick and nibble on his neck. a rewarding groan from your boyfriend was all it took for you to start to earnestly mark his skin, red-purples blooming on the exposed part of his neck and shoulder. the fact that you couldn’t mark his favorite spot - the junction of his neck - was both a blessing and a curse to wriothesley. he had half a mind to beg you to rip his accursed bodysuit off somehow, though he knew it would be hard to do considering the situation.
his wrists strained against the metals, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth. you eyed his escape attempt in amusement, withdrawing from his neck only to place your lips near the base of his ear, “aww, poor puppy… bet you never thought your cuffs would be used against you, huh? or have you thought about it before? naughty, naughty…”
“shut up,” he shivered, wishing he could turn and shut you up with a deep kiss, but this stupid contraption—
a strangled groan of your name left his throat, his thighs twitching when your hand on his thigh moved to cup his bulge, fondling softly from behind the clothing, “fuck, shit-”
yet as soon as it started, it ended. wriothesley subjected you to a fiery frustrated glare by his icy cold eyes; you were truly going to be the death of him at this rate.
“you fucking brat.”
the nickname shot a rush of desire into your core. you knew you were succeeding in riling him up in that direction when the sweeter petnames were replaced with that kind of filth.
you wanted him feral, and it seemed like you were getting your wish if you could keep this up.
“who, me?” you giggled, knowing it would irate him further, “oh, but i’m just getting started, darling.”
you shifted to face him directly, completely straddling him on his chair. the lust-filled eyes of your lover were affixed on you, unable to tear away as your hands moved to unbutton the blouse you had; one button at a time, slowly exposing more and more skin. with every inch revealed, you watched as his adam’s apple bob, his eyes dilating, breathing visibly picking up when he realized you had opted out of wearing a bra today. shakily, momentarily, his gaze dropped lower to your skirt. what if.
“like what you see?” his vision shifted back to your face at your taunt. with all the buttons off, the cloth slipped down your shoulders until you maneuver it to drop onto the ground.
“you… naughty, evil, teasing-” his words died on his tongue when your hands - oh how pretty they would look cupping around his cock - moved themselves up your ribs to cup your breasts. your dainty fingers fail to appreciate them fully, in his opinion; unable to hold the soft plumpness properly, too small to knead properly. it should have been his hands, massaging and making you moan and writhe. should have been his calloused fingers that flicked your pert nipples, making you whine needily and tremble like that.
“unlock the cuff,” he gruffly ordered, chains clinking loudly as he tried to pull and tug against them, “right now.”
you tilted your head, pausing to bat your eyelashes innocently at him. you had no idea how much he wanted to see those pretty lashes wet with tears as he bit and mark and fondle your skin all over right now. oblivious to the picture he had on his head, where he held you down and pinned you on the bed as he ravaged you senseless.
instead of giving him salvation, you gave him sin. more of sinful provocation; your moans loud, one of your hand slowly trailing down your abdomen to slip beneath your skirt. the fact that he could picture your finger gathering slick from your slit, delving into your folds to then rub your swollen clit with your abundance of slick — yet being unable to witness the sight obscured by the stupid piece of clothing, was maddening. a crime, even.
did you have to slip your hand beneath your panties? or did you also decide to forego them just like you did with your bra? and did you have to moan so prettily while looking directly at him like that?
“damn it- you unfair little-!”
his cock was straining so hard against his pants, it hurt. you hummed, both amused and aroused at the words falling from his lips and the loud creak and clang of metal chains and wooden chair scraping against the floor. you knew he wanted to touch and taste you, you knew he was going to devour you if you kept this on. you knew you probably should stop teasing him so cruelly like this.
you waited for a particular word to slip out of his lips — the word that would stop your little game altogether.
but only curses and snarls left your lover’s lips, and you relished in the pure, unfiltered want on his expression. your fingers delved into your sopping cunt, a breathy moan and a shudder racking through your body as you pleasured yourself on top of his lap, slick dripping to stain his pants.
wriothesley’s breaths were ragged and loud, his jaw locked and clenched, eyes shifting between your expression, the hand fondling your breast and perked nipple, the way your other hand moved beneath the skirt— it was all too much, too much—
you gave him a knowing, sultry smile, and he could swear he entered some kind of hypnotic daze as you pulled your hand away from under the flimsy skirt, your dainty digits covered in wetness. his mouth opened automatically, tongue out as he tried to inch forward, chasing the honeyed treat.
the metal muzzle tapped against your fingers, just as your kind smile turned mischievous.
wriothesley
snaps.
you didn’t realize the chains broke until your vision shifts, your center of gravity thrown off balance. your back slammed against the hard surface of his desk, your breath stolen out of your lungs as you lost your bearings, confusion flooding your mind. you’d barely realized what had happened when you felt your skirt ripped away, your legs pushed apart and your knees kissing your ears before your beloved’s cock plunged into the wet, sopping heat. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your back arched as he started rutting, sparks of pleasure blooming rapidly in your senses.
wriothesley couldn’t even spare a moment to talk as his hips moved so deliciously, the hardened cock dragging against your spongy walls with vengeance. this was what you’d reduced him to: a mindless, ruthless beast only caring to take and take and take, after finally having the prey you bared and dangled in front of him. preys shouldn’t have taunted their predators, but you went ahead and did it anyway.
“w-wrio- oh- f-fuck-”
a deep snarl, and the hands you tried to reach out to touch him slammed back down on the desk. you inhaled shakily and almost moaned outloud just from the sight of him on top of you, still muzzled, silver blue eyes glaring down at you. untamed and feral, the merciless slam of his hips continued, blunt head reaching into the deepest part of your pussy as it convulsed around him. the sounds of your coupling filled the room, and your mind melted from the onslaught of pleasure, senses succumbing to the carnal lust you’ve inflicted upon your lover.
amidst the feral snarls and mind-numbing oxytocin, you barely heard his voice, panting and rough with unbridled need, “gonna cum,” the grip on your hands moved onto your hips, keeping you in place as the brutish thrusts started to turn uncoordinated, “gonna breed this perverted pussy. it’s what you wanted, isn’t it? you wanted to be fucked stupid like this? huh?”
broken moans left your throat, head spinning as the arrhythmical slaps of his hips against yours brought you teetering towards the precipice of euphoria. it took all you could to nod in agreement, and wriothesley’s smirk widen, a pleased growl reverberating within his throat as he felt his cock throb, ropes of sticky cum flooding into your deepest part. the warmth flooding into you triggered your own climax, spongy walls clamping down to milk him within the tight channel.
you exhaled shakily, quivering as the intense orgasm left you sensitive all over, body tingling as it relaxed, limp against the hard surface of his work desk. wriothesley panted on top of you, his breathing heavy and almost strained as his smouldering eyes saw your boneless body under him.
he bent down, and you would have thought he was about to kiss you if not for the contraption obscuring his mouth—
“you didn’t think that was enough for that stunt you pulled on me, did you, brat?”
your breath hitched as he ripped away the metal muzzle off his mouth, flexing his jaw and massaging the red imprint it made onto his skin. he dangled the item above you, eyes hooded and dark and mean.
“this time, why don’t i let you wear this? i already have a collar and a leash prepared for you to match, after all.”
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❥ banner picture © nqrse ー hoyofair 2024
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tojisun · 2 days
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(quietly) oh god thinking about kyle falling in love with his new neighbour.
How he was just going to crack open a window to let the breeze in only to stop at the sight of his neighbour and her daughter dancing in the rain, twin smiles tugging at their lips as they hop around in their front lawn, feet digging into the muddy parts of their grass garden, letting the water splash out.
Laughter trickles from the two, and it tickles Kyle’s ears, filling him up with such longing he can’t even put a proper name to it.
She is the single mother who moved from another country.
Why she settled in this little suburb, Kyle doesn’t know but he’s thankful of her because there are times when he forgets about many things—himself, for one; the touch of soft blankets and the feel of warm water, for another—but somehow he always finds himself snapping back to his body at seeing her.
At hearing her.
She is beautiful. She is beyond beautiful. She is—
God, how can anyone have that much fortitude and strength and love? How can anyone see the world so optimistically; so full of wonder?
“Oh, you,” she’d murmured, shy, when Kyle had told her of his thoughts, and he watched as her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks at her quiet chuckle.
Kyle’s throat had gone parched—he has never felt this type of yearning before; one that makes him full even when he’s yet to eat anything. One that lulls him to a quiet sleep like his mind and his body have finally found their centre of gravity; like they’re no longer unyielding nor unforgiving. But kind.
Filling. Wondrous.
“It’s because of my little duckling,” she continued, eyes crinkling in her delight. She turned to her snoozing daughter. “I would have been lost without my darling Pen.”
She looked at Kyle then, smiling like he wasn’t just a kind stranger. Like he wasn’t just a nobody.
Kyle stares at the them now, his lips quivering as he watches them dance and splash and giggle to each other. Their laughter sounds like chimes. Like twinkling bells. Like what home sounds.
Kyle stares at them now, wondering if he could ever be part of their family.
(He already is. Have been, for a while now.
Penelope adores Kyle. So much so that she would not stop asking you when could she play agIn with the kind man next door.
She tells you that Kyle is so patient—not in those words, but she tells you that Kyle always asks more about her stories, and asks her who are her friends and which of her collection of toys is her favourite.
And Pen is still too young to understand the word ‘patience’ but she tells you how Kyle is nothing but.
How he never once rejects her tea time invitation, even if the tea is just bottled sweet tea and grocery store cupcakes that you were able buy that week.
How he never once asks why she doesn’t know how to tie her shoelaces, and instead teaches her time and time again. That he never gets snappy even if she keeps forgetting.
She even recounts to you how excited she had been when Kyle showed up for the dad-daughter dance hosted at her school. He’d asked for your permission then, going shy as he stuttered out his, “But I don’t want to impose and you can say no, I swear, and we can just ignore this and—”
“Kyle,” you murmured, your eyes prickling with tears. “I’d be honoured if you were there for Pen.”
He said something to you then. It was a slip of his tongue, clearly something he didn’t want you to hear, and you honoured his wishes but when a man like Kyle—
No.
When Kyle says, “I wish I can be there f’r you too.” What is the natural reaction if not to let him know that he can?
That you want him too?)
(Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He talks funny, like the many others in this new country.
Mama said it’s not nice to say that Mr. Kyle talks funny but Mr. Kyle is not angry. He just laughs with Penny, and says she should hear his best friend, Mr. Johnny, talk.
Penny is told Mr. Johnny sings more than he talks. Penny giggles at the idea of it.
Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He is warm and he always has toffee in his pocket for Penny.
He also laughs loud, like the one from the belly, and she thinks that his laugh fills their house with how loud it is. Mama said that Mr. Kyle laughs loud so that the monsters under Penny’s bed would leave. Penny cried and said many thanks to Mr. Kyle after that.
Penny likes Mr. Kyle.
He…
He makes mama happy.
Not the way Penny makes mama happy. No one can make mama more happy than Penny could! But he buys her flowers and donuts and- and books! Adults are so weird.
Books are no fun.
Sometimes she wished Mr. Kyle can be her real dad.)
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kittyfrisk9 · 2 days
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2
Part 1(?)
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.
That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.
They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.
Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.
They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.
However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.
He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.
"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"
Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.
"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.
There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.
Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.
After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)
"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.
"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."
"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?
"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.
"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.
"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.
What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.
He decided to change the subject instead.
Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.
As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.
"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."
Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."
Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.
Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"
Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."
Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."
However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."
The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.
Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.
"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.
Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.
As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.
Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.
He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"
Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"
"What?" Jason frowned.
"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.
Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)
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luveline · 1 day
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pleaseee anything angsty with bombshell!reader and spencer!! love you
love you!
When Jason Gideon dies, it’s alone with his murderer. Isolated from friends and family, years after you last heard from him. Spencer hasn’t spoken to him since he left, and yet the ruin on his face when it’s confirmed to be Gideon churns your stomach. 
He rushes out of the room. 
You look at Gideon, dead, and regret that you never got along. You barely knew him. So when Derek leaves to follow Spencer out, you don’t go with them, thinking Derek has better common ground. 
“You okay?” you ask Hotch quietly. 
He nods, solemn. “Do you want to go check on Reid?” he asks, equally hushed. 
“I think Morgan has it for now.” You turn away from Gideon. You don’t want to see him dead, it’s too scary when it’s someone you know. It reminds you that it could’ve been you, or Spencer. 
You don’t find time to speak to your poor bookworm until later that night when you’ve been forced to retire in dinky motel rooms. You and Spencer used to share because you were the only person normal enough not to complain when he infodumps, and because you were fond of him. Then because you were best friends, and now because you’re in love. How lucky you’ve been. 
He’s always had it rough, though. 
You’d asked him multiple times throughout the day if he was okay, and every now and then he’d nodded or sniffled, but now he’s alone with you his facade fades completely, and you want to have a real talk. 
His shoulders rock. You reach out for him. He breaks for the bathroom. 
“Spencer?” you ask, startled. 
The door shuts hard between you, frame shaking.
“Spencer, are you okay?” 
You cross the brown carpeting to grab the handle. You pause there, heart dropping as the weak sound of muffled sobbing reaches your ears. “Spencer,” you say, soft, and without any teasing. You’re capable of seriousness sometimes. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” 
“Can I be alone?” he asks.
He sounds strained. 
“I’d rather you weren’t. I don’t know what you’ll do.” 
“What?” he asks. 
“People do strange things when they’re upset. I just want to be with you, that’s all.” 
“I’m fine,” he says shortly. 
You’d be offended, but like you said. People do strange things when they’re upset, and this is worse than just being upset. This is grief. Intangible, cruel. Spencer has a history of doing things that aren’t good for him when he’s hurting. You’ve no interest in leaving him alone. 
“Spencer… I love you. I want to be near you.”
Your straight-forwardness pays off. 
“Okay,” he says. “It’s not locked.” 
That’s reassuring. You open the door, find him standing at the sink with his cheeks wet with thick tears. He crumples when he sees you, hiding his face in his hands. 
You’re not sure what to do. Loving someone, you tend to love all of them, and you’ve yet to find parts of Spencer you couldn’t adore, but he just lost somebody important to him and you have no idea how to handle it. You decide to try, whether jumping into it will do any good or not. You walk right into his chest and hug him. 
“Sorry,” you murmur, “I love you. I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” He takes a shaky, odd breath, like he might laugh. He tries to as he holds your shoulders. “God, it’s okay, don’t be sorry.” 
“I am. It’s not fair. I never want you to lose anyone.” 
He presses his lips into a hard line and nods, prompting tears down his cheeks one after the other. “It’s okay.” 
It’s not okay. Spencer cries and you watch him, his hands weak on your shoulders. His hair is greasy at the roots from all the heat of being upset, his face pink, his eyes swollen and sore. His lashes are sticking together in dark triangles, while his sclera turns bloodshot. It’s clear that today has been extremely hard on him, and you should’ve done more. “I should’ve come after you, I’m sorry. I thought Morgan would have a better chance at making you feel better.” You wipe his cheeks, and tuck lank hair behind his ears. “I need you to know I’m here for you.” 
He’s putting on a brave face, slowly but surely. “I know that.” 
“Listen, do you want to shower?” you ask. 
“I want to sit down forever.” 
“We’ll shower first. I’ll come in with you, alright? We can wash your hair, the warm water will be good for your eyes.” You frown sympathetically. “You’ve cried all day.” 
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I wish I’d tried harder to see him. To talk to him again.” 
“You can… I know it’s not the same, but you can tell me. Anything you wanted to say to him, I’ll listen. You can tell me everything.” 
He nods again. More brave face, more unnerving, fake smile. 
You run your hands down his hair, and use your hands to tilt his head forward gently. “You can be alone if you really want to, but I just can’t have that closed door. You understand?” 
“No, I want to shower with you.” He sniffs. “Sorry if I scared you.” 
“It’s not scary.” You curl your arm behind his neck to pull him in for a careful hug. You hold him without moving, relieved when he holds you back, though his hands are limp where they’d usually be rubbing at your shoulders. “It wasn’t scary, I mean. I didn’t mean to suggest you’d do something, but I think the last thing you should be right now is alone. Thanks for letting me stay.” 
He breathes in your neck. “This is nice.” 
You bend back to encourage him further into your arms. “You’re doing so well,” you murmur, rubbing his back in a slow stroke, “you can get through this. We’ll do right by him, I promise. You’re not alone.” 
“I used to feel it. He was the first person who… really looked out for me, before he left.” Spencer sniffles, glassy eyes softening where he looks down at you. “Nobody’s ever stayed with me. No one.” 
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” 
He sniffles again. “I know… Will you still shower with me?” 
“Mm-hm. Wash your hair for you, if you want me to.” 
“Please.” 
“Costs a kiss,” you say softly. 
“You want one from me right now?” he asks. He’s joking, because he knows you always want one. 
Your spirits finally begin to recuperate. “Plant one on me, handsome… only if you want to.” 
He turns away from you to wipe his face, both of you laughing, him wetly, you in relief. Both with a little bit of guilt. Maybe because life goes on without the people who pass, and that will always feel wrong. 
He turns back to you. Sadness darkens his eyes, but he closes them and leans down tentatively to kiss you. 
You take his soft one, borrow a firmer one, and wrap him up in another hug. Love you, love you, love you, you think. You’re going to make sure that he’s okay. 
196 notes · View notes
whimsiwitchy · 2 days
Text
Controversially Young Girlfriend (part six)
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Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3
authors note: y'all this part absolutely drained me. Idk what it was but I felt so stuck when writing this. I got it to a point where I can start part seven fresh, so fingers crossed whatever happened here doesn't happen again. I hope you all still enjoy it lol <33
part six: because I love you
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Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 
You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 
As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.
You’ve been fighting a secret battle since the moment he kissed you, the moment everything between you changed. Putting what you were feeling into words felt impossible. What you did know though, is that you were terrified that you wouldn’t be enough for him. Scared that he would snap out of whatever daze he was in and miss the life he had with his wife and kids, the life that didn’t involve you. The life that made sense. 
When you walk back to the bedroom you find Hugh sitting up with his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. His glasses were perched on the lower bridge of his nose, threatening to fall off any moment. His eyes peaked over the frames as he turned to look at you. “Morning baby. I was just about to text you, thought you left.” He sets his phone down on the bedside table as he speaks. “Mhm, just had to pee.” You walk over to the bed and climb up, straddling Hugh’s lap. “Why didn’t you use this one?” He jerks his head to the bathroom that’s attached to the room and you shrug. “I don’t know. The vibes of the thirst trap bathroom just feel different.” You joke. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” He asks, smirking slightly. You shake your head. “Absolutely not.” You affirm and it makes Hugh chuckle. “I was wondering if you had any plans for your last day in the big apple?” His hands rest on your exposed thighs and you become all too aware that you’re still butt ass naked under his t-shirt. “Uhh, not really. I was actually gonna ask if I could hang out with you today…” Your voice is shy. “I was really hoping you’d say that. I might have planned a few things for us.” Hugh smiles and you could feel excitement flood your body. “May I have insight on said plans kind sir?” You put on a posh voice that Hugh mimics. “I’m afraid not my lady, for each destination today is to be undisclosed until further notice.” You drop the bit but not without letting out a deep belly laugh at Hugh’s impressively good accent change. “Can I at least have a little hint so I know what to wear?” He thinks for a moment. “I’m giving you the proper New York tourist day, so wear something comfy.” He pauses. “Maybe wear something incognito. It might be harder to hide than it was the other day.” You hum in acknowledgment. “Do you think I could borrow some underwear or something? I’m feeling a little exposed.” Hugh laughs. 
Your fingers picked at the basketball shorts he let you borrow, tying the strings over and over again as Hugh made breakfast. Small conversation filled the large space and the domesticality of the situation made you flustered. “I’m kinda nervy about the tour. Are you gonna come support me on opening night?” He’s whisking the eggs in a small bowl with a fork and it was oddly attractive. “As long as my schedule allows it, I'll be there. I'd be at every show if I could be.” He looks up and sets the bowl down. “I’d do a lot of things for you, probably anything.” He adds before he turns around to start one of the gas stove burners. It ticks a few times before it catches. “That’s a lot of power to hold and you definitely messed up by telling me that.” You hold your hands up, each finger touching, as you wiggle them in an evil manner. Hugh looks back at you from where he’s moving the eggs around in the pan and smiles. “Don’t get too excited. I said probably anything.” You drop your hands and shrug. “That’s a lot more than I'm used to.” He turns back to the eggs. “Has anyone ever treated you the way you deserve?” The question takes you aback. “I’m not trying to be mean…After hearing some of the things you say and seeing how Pedr-..how he treated you, I’m not seeing anything good. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm confused on how a girl like you has never had anyone treat you right.” He plates the eggs and oils the pan to drop the turkey bacon as if he didn’t drop such a big observation onto you. 
“I uh-...I’m not really sure what to say…I mean I guess I haven’t really had a guy care about me all too much.” He turns to you, staying close to the stove. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You shrug. “I mean you’re not wrong. Everyone always seems to give up on me before anything serious happens…but hey that’s the price of being famous and having my taste in men I guess.” He flips the bacon. “I don’t know how I feel being your taste in men then. They aren’t really setting a good reputation.” He jokes but it stings a little. “Eh. I think you’re doing a lot better than any of them ever did. You’re sweet and kind…and unbelievably sexy.” You tried to steer the conversation away from its original content. It works, Hugh laughs. “You should go take a picture in the mirror again and post it. Your fans would love it.” He takes the bacon off of the pan and sets the pieces on a paper towel lined plate. “I didn’t post that for the fans babe. I posted that for you.” Your jaw drops and you draw a dramatic gasp. “I knew it was a thirst trap. Y’know next time you can just send it to me instead of posting it on instagram. I’d love a few more to add to my collection.” 
“Your collection?” He cocks an eyebrow up and you ignore his question. “Do you need my help with anything? I feel kinda useless just sitting here.” You ask as Hugh pulls out a container of strawberries. “It’s okay baby, I got it.” You hum, fingers going back to the strings on your shorts. Hugh washes a handful of berries and dries them one by one. “You’re good at changing the conversation.” He mumbles and lets out a small huff of a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look at him with an innocent face. He’s silent for a moment, the only sound being the soft knocks of the knife hitting the cutting board. You watched as each slice of the strawberry fell over as Hugh worked. His hands stop for a moment and you look up at him, catching his eyes. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you and that I truly care for you.” His eyes focus back onto the cutting board. “I know that.” You mumble. “Then let that be a reminder. I want to hear the things you’ve been through. I want to know everything about you so I can be the best version of myself for you.” You didn’t know what to say, so instead you hopped out of the chair and hugged him.
After breakfast and after you followed Hugh around like a lost puppy while he got ready for the day, he drove you back to your hotel so you could do the same. You were frantically walking back and forth as you got ready, packing your suitcase as you went along. Hugh was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone. You picked out a pair of baggy black denim cargo pants to wear but you couldn’t decide between the classic ‘i love new york’ t-shirt you bought your first day here or a maroon turtleneck. “Which one should I wear? I’m leaning towards the new york one but I feel like that’s too touristy you know?” You start speaking as you walk out of the bathroom and hold up both shirts. “If I wear the turtleneck then I can probably get away with not wearing a jacket and I can also wear the converse I have that are in the same color.” You stand at a mirror that is in the hallway, putting each shirt over your chest, comparing them. When Hugh doesn’t answer, you turn to see him staring at you. “Hugh did you hear anything I just said?” He’s sat up on the bed now, no longer in the starfish position he was once in. “Wear the new york one baby. You won’t be a tourist forever. There’s only a matter of time before the city becomes familiar.” He explains. “Mm. Good point. Thank you babe.” You throw the turtleneck on your open suitcase and just as you're about to throw the simple graphic tee over your head, Hugh speaks. “Wait..don’t put that on yet. C’mere.” The last part is mumbled as he holds his hands out for you. 
You set your shirt down as you walk over to him. Both his arms snake around your waist as soon as you step between his thick thighs. “You look delicious right now.” His arms loosen as he pulls you back, taking in your appearance. “Is me not wearing a shirt, turning you on Hugh?” You tease. You almost forgot that you were only walking around in a simple black t-shirt bra. It lifted your boobs surprisingly well for the style and you could tell it was getting to Hugh. “What if I said it was?” He asks, eyes moving from your chest to your face. “If this gets you going too easily, you’re gonna struggle when you see the outfits I perform in.” You laugh. “Mhm. I’m excited.” He growls with a smirk before plunging his head towards your cleavage, kissing up and down the exposed skin. “You’re such a hornball.” You let out in your fit of laughter. He rests his face in the crook of your boobs. You can hear him mumbling something but you can’t make out the words. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” He reluctantly pulls his face back. “I said that we could always stay in today instead…Wanna get another taste of you.” His hands grip your waist and you feel a pulse between your legs from his words. 
“As tempting as that is…and it’s really really tempting. I wanna go out with you today, have some normality before life goes back to normal tomorrow. Maybe we’ll have time before my flight…for what you said.” He smiles and pats your butt. “Okay baby. Finish getting ready so we can go.” You lean down with puckered lips, meeting Hugh’s in a sweet kiss. “I’ll be ready in like fifteen minutes.” You promise as you pick your shirt up and run back into the bathroom. 
Somehow in the short time it took you to get ready, Hugh convinced you to let him take you to the airport. You tried to refuse since you already had accommodations made for the early 3:30am flight but he fought back. He said that it would be easier and we could spend more time together before I left. You agreed, wanting to spend every single last second with the man you loved. He threw your suitcase in the trunk of his car and the two of you were off on whatever adventure Hugh had planned. 
The first stop was at Battery park to see the Statue of Liberty. Hugh surprised you with a ferry ride that took you from the park to Liberty island, then Ellis island. You thanked Hugh non-stop as you boarded the ferry. You were a big history nerd and being able to be around objects and buildings that have existed for many generations of people before you, excited you to your core. Hugh was watching your thrill with a smile, sneaking pictures of you when he could- you never noticed. You did ask him to take a few pictures of you as the ferry moved right in front of lady liberty herself. Your smile was wide, eyes crinkled behind your sunglasses. Hugh held you close the entire time, kissing the top of your head every now and then. He would take you all over the world if it meant he got to see you this happy all the time. 
The whole exploration took about four hours. You were very thorough in your wanding, not wanting to miss a single detail. You apologized to Hugh every time you felt like you were taking too long but he never seemed annoyed or upset, just happy to be with you. Once you were back on the mainland, the two of you were starving and started to discuss places to eat. “I think that Stardust place would be fun but I heard it’s almost impossible to get in.” You don’t mean for it to sound like it was something you really wanted to do. You were just thinking out loud. “I can get us in there baby.” Hugh says, shrugging his shoulders. “Hugh Jackman…are you telling me you’d name drop yourself for me?” You smile. “I told you, anything for you sweetheart.” He raises your intertwined hands to his face, leaving a kiss on yours. “As sweet as that is, I could probably name drop myself and get in.” You smile. “It’s probably not smart for you to go into a place full of theater nerds anyway since you’ve been on Broadway multiple times or whatever.” You joke. “You’re probably right. I am quite the Broadway star.” He jokes back. “Fuck it. Let’s just get pizza again. I've only a tourist for so long, remember?” “Fuck it.” He agrees. 
You find a different pizza shop this time, waiting in the car while Hugh goes in to order. You spent the time looking through your phone. You saw a few texts from Ashley and it made your heart ache. She was a terrible friend but you still grieved the good times you did have. Once you got back home, you knew it was probably for the best to talk to her, settle everything, and get some closure. You thought a lot about loose ends you needed to tie as you entered this new chapter of your life, Pedro being one of them as well. You wanted as clean of a slate you could get as you moved forward with Hugh. 
“God I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in there.” Hugh says as he opens the driver door, sitting two styrofoam cups in the center console drink holders. “Do you mind holding this for a moment sweetheart?” He asks, holding up a small box that had a large brown paper bag sitting on top. You grab it and Hugh climbs into the car. “Would it be too cliche if we ate this at the great lawn?” You ask with a lazy grin. “Maybe a little bit but it sounds like a great idea darling.” He smiles back. 
The drive to Central Park was a short one. Finding a parking spot however, took awhile. Hugh drove through one of the nearby parking garages, going up and down until he finally caught someone pulling out. When the two of you finally reached the lawn, you were a little nervous at the amount of people there but you put it aside, hoping that your sunglasses would be enough to hide you from any possible fans. You found a spot, farther away from the larger crowds. It was peaceful for the most part, both Hugh and yourself to engaged in conversation and eating to care about anything else. When you were both done eating, you scooted closer to Hugh, who then offered you to sit between his legs as he leaned back. Your back was against his chest, lifting with every breath he took. “This is nice.” You say, looking up at Hugh. “It is.” He agrees, kissing your forehead. When you look forward again, a girl catches your eye. She’s sitting not too far off and she’s staring. It makes your heart stop, afraid that she might have recognized you or Hugh. Your suspicion is proved right, her eyes go wide and she lifts her phone, pointing it directly in your direction. “Babe, I think that girl is recording us.” You nudge Hugh slightly to get his attention. He looks in the girl's direction and sighs. “Let’s get out of here.” The two of you walk back to the car, hand in hand. 
“Do you wanna go home or are you still up for one more adventure?” Hugh asks once you’re both settled in the car. The way he says ‘home’ makes your heart flutter. You know it’s probably out of habit but it makes you wonder what sharing a home with him would be like, how being with him officially would be. “I’m down for more touristing.” You smile, trying to let go of the bitter mood that girl had put you in. You didn’t mind fans recognizing you but it always sucked when a good moment was taken away because of it- a moment that would have been normal if you and Hugh were ‘normal’ people. 
The sun was starting to set as Hugh drove and it was beautiful. Seeing the city lights take over was a sight to see. “I thought we were going somewhere else?” You ask in confusion as Hugh pulls into the parking garage of his apartment building. “We are but I thought we could walk, if that’s okay with you love. It’s not too far.” He parks the car in his designated spot. “Yea that’s fine.” His hand squeezes your thigh, a place it often sits as he drives. “Let’s go then.” 
You were convinced there wasn’t anything more beautiful than walking through New York at night. You were never fond of big cities, only living in Los Angeles because you had to for work, but something about nyc brings a sense of home you’ve never felt before. Almost like a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a place that felt right. 
The last stop happened to be Times Square. The second you found a good spot, you passed your phone over to Hugh to take pictures of you. It was a little over stimulating the longer you stood there, admiring all of the giant screens and billboards. You tried to tough it out as long as possible but your last straw was when some guy in a janky super hero suit tried to come up to you. Hugh was quick to grab you and lead you away. “I can’t make up my mind on what’s worse, the con artist in Hollywood or the ones here.” You joke, Hugh laughs agreeing. The streets started to empty the further away you got from the square and you were thankful for that. As you walked hand in hand with Hugh, you started to hum the melody of ‘New York, New York’ by Frank Sinatra. Hugh smiles down at you and releases your hand to pull you closer, his arm resting over your shoulder. “Ooo. Can we go in there real quick?” You ask, pointing at the small grocery market across the street. “Sure baby.” You can tell he’s confused so you answer his question before he can ask. “I wanna make dinner for you.” You look both ways down the street before crossing. “You don’t have to do that sweet girl.” The sliding doors open and you’re hit with the cool air. “I want to.” He doesn’t say anything else as he follows you around the store. When you hit the produce section, you lift the sunglasses that had been sitting on your face for most of the day, creating a makeshift headband. You gather a mix of yukon gold and baby red potatoes, as well as a few carrots and a stock of broccoli. “What are you making?” Hugh asks as you walk towards the meat shelves, grabbing a pack of two chicken breasts. “A spicy, maple chicken sheet pan dinner.” You explain, walking towards the next aisle. “A sheet pan dinner?” He questions. “You throw everything onto the same pan, shove it in the oven, and boom, you have dinner.” He laughs. “I guess that makes sense.” 
Hugh insisted on paying for everything but you refused. He had paid for almost everything else since you’ve been in New York and you had to remind him that you too had too much money than you knew what to do with. He complained about it the whole way back to his apartment, it was kinda cute. When you finally got back, you asked Hugh to gather everything you’d need: a cutting board, a large bowl, a peeler, a colander, etc. You wanted to make sure you had everything so he could sit and watch, just as you had with him this morning. “I could get used to this.” You look up from where you're mixing the veggies and seasoning in a bowl. “What, me cooking for you?” You ask, sarcasm present in your voice. “No, you being here with me.” Hugh smiles. “Oh..” You whisper as you dump the prepped veggies onto the parchment lined sheet pan. “Was that too forward?” You’re patting the chicken with a paper towel and placing them in the same bowl as he asks. “No. I like when you say stuff like that, it just makes me all nervous.” You drizzle the chicken in olive oil and add your choice of seasonings. “Why does it make you nervous?” His elbows are on the counter, hands resting in his hands. “Because someone like you likes someone like me, it’s crazy.” You place the chicken on the sheet pan before placing it into the already heated oven. 
Hugh stands up and walks behind you. His arms wrap around you as you wash your hands. “Is it really that hard to believe that I like you?” He asks, giving light kisses to your neck. “Sometimes.” You wiggle out of his arms to dry your hands on a towel that rests on the oven handle. “I must not be doing a very good job at showing it then.” You walk back over to him, where he’s leaning back on the counter. “It’s not you babe, it’s the voices.” You point to your head. “What are they saying?” You think for a moment. “Do you want the default answer or the real answer?” “The real one.” He responds without a second thought. “I think I’m just scared that all of this is temporary.” You say motioned your arms around. “I’m scared that one day you’ll snap out of whatever it is you feel for me and just…just leave and not want me anymore.” He pulls you into his chest. “I don’t know what I can say or do to break you free from that but I can promise that I won't just leave you. If there ever comes a time where I don't want to be with you, which is very unlikely, I’ll tell you.” You don’t say anything as he holds you. The two of you stay like that until the twenty five minute timer you set is going off. 
“Do you really have to leave today?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your back softly. After dinner, Hugh went down to fetch your suitcase out of his car. Both of you took showers, separately this time. Now you were straddling his lap, laying forward with your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Unfortunately..” You sigh out. “You can’t stay just a few more days?” He practically pouts and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.  “I really wish I could but duty calls. I jump right into work once I’m back.” This time he sighs. “I’m gonna miss you.” “I’m gonna miss you too.” You give his neck a few small kisses before speaking again. “When are you coming back to LA?” You lift your upper body and rest your hands on his bare chest. “I’m not sure. Got some stuff to deal with here, might take a while.” He lifts himself up, sitting up straight against the headboard, putting you both in the same position as this morning. “Hm. What stuff?” You ask, hands trailing down from his chest to his abs. “Divorce stuff. Ex-wife stuff.” He shrugs slightly and leans forward, his lips meeting your neck as he leaves his own kisses. “Oh..” It comes out more as a moan, Hugh’s teeth nipping at the skin right below your ear. “That must be hard, divorcing after so long together.” His lips falter for a moment. “Doesn’t matter.” He leans back against the headboard. His response made you feel weird. Hugh’s voice was distant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You apologize, letting your hands fall to his shoulders. “It’s okay, it would’ve come up eventually.” 
“We don’t have to talk about it Hugh, it’s okay.” 
“It’s something we should talk about though. It’s not fair to you. You’ve opened up so much to me, I should do the same for you.” You’re silent, not sure what to say. “Does it bother you?”  Hugh asks.
“Does what bother me?” You know what he’s asking but you weren’t sure how to answer. 
“That I was married?” He’s looking at you, but you're looking down at his hands. 
“No.” It wasn’t a lie. Him being married isn’t what bothered you. “Look at me baby.” His voice is stern, a tone that you haven’t heard before. When you look at him his eyes are quick to line with yours. “Does it bother you? Don’t lie to me.” You sigh, hands sliding from his stomach. You rest them on top of his own where they are placed on your thigh. “I wasn't lying. It doesn’t bother me that you were married.” 
“Then what’s up sweet girl? I can tell there's something going on in that pretty head of yours..” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart race. He’s looking at you like you're the most important person in the world, like you mean everything to him. 
“I don’t care that you were married…it’s just..this is gonna sound stupid but..I’m scared of how long you two were together and how recent your divorce was.” 
“What do you mean baby?” 
“Like I said earlier, I’m scared of this being temporary. That I’m just some…god I don’t know…that I’m a rebound or something. That the two of you will realize that being separated wasn’t the right decision.” Your posture breaks as you slump forward slightly. “I knew that she would always be in your life and I’ve been trying to make peace with that…but the thought of you leaving is too much.” You confess. 
“Y/n…What Deb and I had has been over for a long time. It was over years before we finalized anything. Everything now is purely about our kids. I’ll always hold love for her in my heart but it isn’t a romantic love anymore. That love is reserved for you sweet girl, all for you.” His fingers delicately lift your chin. “I’m a devoted man y/n. Once you have me, I’m yours. I promise.” His thumb rubs along your jaw. You lift your pinky and he chuckles slightly. He lifts his own and links it with yours. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. “Are you ready to be my girlfriend?” Hugh asks, seriousness fills his voice. “I really want to be.” His eyes soften. “What’s stopping you from being all mine baby?” 
The question is loaded. The answer was full of worries you shoved deep down, hoping they wouldn’t come up as soon as they did. From the moment you walked into his home, you tried your best to ignore the family photos that littered his walls. Photos of him and his wife with wide smiles, their kids standing between them, smiles just as wide. You pushed down every feeling you had as he showed you the rooms he kept for his kids for when they would visit. His daughter's room hurt the most. You saw glimpses of your own teenage years that you’d excited only a few years earlier. His son’s room reminds you that that was the room of a man whose age was more appropriate for you. You’d been reminded non-stop that what you had with Hugh was wrong in the eyes of others, so wrong that you were starting to feel it too.
“Does it ever worry you that our relationship isn’t practical? That it doesn’t make sense?” He makes a face and he looks almost offended.“How doesn’t it make sense? I like you, you like me. You’re happy, I’m happy. What more is there to it?” 
“That’s the thing Hugh. When it comes to you, it will never just be you.” His eyebrows scrunch up. “I'm confused baby.” You sigh. “Hugh, you were married for decades, with kids. What is your ex-wife going to think about you dating a girl that’s thirty three years younger than you? Hell, better yet, what will your kids think Hugh? What are they going to think about you dating a girl that sits right in between their ages?” You rant. “What Deb thinks about us doesn’t matter. She’ll get over it.” His hands give your thighs a small squeeze. “And your kids?” He sighs. “I’m not sure what they’ll think but I’m sure that if I explain it to them they’ll understand. They’re old enough to where you won’t need to be a big part of their lives.”
“I know that babe but I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into your life as it is. I can’t just show up to the family Christmas parties as your girlfriend. Do you know how fucking weird that will be for me, for them?” His face falls and you know he doesn’t take your words the way you intended. “It would be weird to be my girlfriend?” 
“Hugh, that’s not what I meant.” He goes to move you off his lap but you tighten your thighs to stand your ground. “Babe, you have to understand what I mean. I don’t wanna hide from your kids and Deborra. I want to be a part of your life completely and that includes knowing them.” He stops moving and sighs. 
“This isn’t going to be easy y/n. I know I have baggage and I’m sorry that this wasn’t something we talked about sooner. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave and have nothing to do with me.” Hugh lowers his head slightly. “Hugh, I don’t wanna leave you. I’m used to older men, just not ones with ex-wives and kids.” You try to make it lighten the mood, hoping to make him laugh. It doesn’t. 
“Everyone’s gonna hate us if we do this. The fans, your family, probably even my family if I’m being honest. The crazy thing is that I don’t care if everyone hates me but I don’t want to be the reason everyone hates you.” 
Those last words felt like a weight coming off of your shoulders. The words were so simple but had been so hard to say all this time. They were true. You didn’t care if fans turned on you, you didn’t care if your family disapproved, though you couldn’t imagine them disliking Hugh. Selfishly, you also didn’t care that much if Hugh’s family hated you. These were all miniscule issues when it came to you loving Hugh. As long as he was happy, you were happy. But the thought of Hugh experiencing any of that made your skin crawl. You didn’t want him to lose fans he’s had over the long course of his career, you didn’t want to put him through the burden of his family not approving of you and him having to feel the awkwardness every time you were around them. You couldn’t imagine him jeopardizing the life he had built all because of you. You were still building a career. Everyone around you has already experienced you dating men that have no business dating someone your age. You didn’t want to hurt him with the implications that came along with your name and age. 
“That’s not fair to say.” Hugh squeezes your hand. “You can’t put the weight of everything on yourself. If you decide that you want to be with me, then that’s how it’s going to be. You and me. We’ll figure everything out together.” You look off to the side because you know if you look at him the ache you’d been feeling in your throat will betray you. “Look at me.” The hand that isn’t holding yours reaches for your cheek as he attempts to move your face to look towards him. You refuse, already feeling a tear slip down involuntarily. “Baby please.” He tries again and you let him turn your face. A sob escapes, the pain in your neck finally relieved. “What’s wrong y/n? You gotta talk to me.” His voice is sweet and patient. All this man does is care for you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 
“I don’t wanna hurt you and your family Hugh. I don’t want them to suffer, all because I love you.” You sob. “You what?” His hands drop down to your knees. “I love you, Hugh.” You try your best to get the words out through the steady stream of tears. “Do you mean that baby?” He asks softly as one hand comes back to your cheek, wiping a few tears away. “Of course I mean it, that’s why I can’t leave you. I feel so selfish because the smart thing would be to walk away so no one gets hurt but I can’t. I love you too much to let you go.” 
“I love you y/n, so much.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Really?” You ask with sad eyes. “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the moment I met you baby. You looked so pretty that day and your voice was like a siren's call. I tried to fight the attraction but when you invited me to your album party, I didn't care anymore. I wanted you.” You grabbed his face at the confession, pulling his lips to yours. You both let every emotion spill into the kiss. “Does this make you my girlfriend now or are we still friends that hook up and love each other?” He asks jokingly with a dopey smile. “As much as I want to say yes, talk to your kids first. Please. I think it would make me feel a little better about everything.” He kisses you. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” 
Leaving Hugh felt impossible. Not knowing when you’d see him next and him being around his ex-wife without you here to distract him made you nervous. You trusted him but when it came to you or the woman he was married to for twenty seven years, it was hard to say he'd choose you. Even after his reassurance, you had a feeling she would always come first. 
“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” You ask as you hug him, the two of you in the same hidden room from when he picked you up. “I really wish I could baby. I’ll try to get back out there as soon as I can.” He kisses the top of your head and the two of you stay there for as long as you can. “I should probably go.” You say reluctantly. “Yea, you should.” You give him a few quick kisses. “Don’t leave me waiting too long. I’ll be waiting for you.” You smile at him before giving him one last kiss. “I won’t, sweet girl. Text me as soon as you board and when you land okay?” You grab the handle of your suitcase. “I will.” You start to walk towards the door that leads out to the public but before you go out, you turn towards him one more time. “Bye Hugh.” You give him a small wave. “Bye baby. I love you.” The words make you smile. “I love you Hugh.” You give him one more wave before you walk through the door.
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thank you for reading!
series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07
*taglist closed*
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lialuvsaven · 3 days
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Pairing: Aventurine x reader
Tw: none, he's just skittish but that's understandable. Might have grammatical mistakes but English isn't my first language so whatever. The « » words are supposed to be the avgin dialect okok that's all
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"Will you teach me how to speak the Avgin dialect?"
Aventurine nearly splutters out the sip of wine he was about to drink, and you observe as his whole body subtly jerks — trying to figure out if he misheard you or not.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
And yet, the only expression he sees on your face is a little smile, a hint of curiosity and optimism in those lovely eyes of yours. For some reason, he can't find it in him to appreciate that look this time.
"And why is that?" The tone of his voice is reserved, calculated, and for a millisecond, you are reminded of your job: meetings, negotiations and transaction. The air suddenly feels thicker, and although he maintains his usual smile, there's a subtle shift that suggests it may not be as genuine as it was moments ago.
"Because I….want to understand you?" You naively respond, unaware of the warnings you're triggering in his head, unaware of the amount of bells ringing in his ears. The red alarms flashing in front of his eyes are bright, and they blind him to everything else, drowning out your silhouette until he can't make out your face as a familiar one.
All he's seeing is red, red of a warning bell, red of sunset and endings, red of blood and—
"I'm not sure why you even thought that would be a good idea" a small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he shifts a little on the couch in an attempt to regain his belongings.
"After all, I don't even speak it anymore— a dead language is not something you'd benefit from learning."
"But I am a linguist" You counter, huffing a bit. "I wouldn't think a language is “less beneficial” just because it's dead. Besides, Sigonian isn't a dead language, and neither is the Avgin dialect. You are here, and you speak it."
Blink.
"What?" Aventurine grows defensive, and he shifts in his seat again; only a little. It's not okay to let others know of your discomfort, you cannot show your weaknesses. Luckily, you don't notice, and he continues carefully.
"I don't speak it— what are you saying? How could I possibly use that language?"
He picks his sentences with caution, leaving half of it up in the air for you to interpret. He can't bring himself to finish it— he can't use it when everyone else who spoke of it is presumably dead. That would only result in another restless night of futile attempts at subduing the void in his heart. Just because he knows it, doesn't mean he likes to think of it.
Aventurine does not like to remember the fact that he's the only one left of the Avgins, even though the cosmos is merciless in its reminders.
"You do speak it!!" You insist, and look into his eyes, and his eyes almost make you forget the rest of your sentence. "—You say things under your breath. When things go south, or when your catcakes do something super adorable and you can't hold a grin on your face. I've seen you multiple times, talking to yourself in an unfamiliar language. It is your mother tongue, is it not?"
Ah.
The words that escape your lips are curling into itself, flickering through the corners of his mind. I've seen you multiple times. Multiple times. Multiple times. Talking to yourself. To yourself. To yourself.
His mother tongue.
Oh, how he wishes he could talk to someone else, how he longs to talk to another Avgin in his mother tongue— in their mother tongue.
"Do I do that?" He inquires, and you affirm, still wearing a smile. Both of you have been smiling at each other, but only one of you is clawing through the walls of their mind trying their best not to leave the room right this moment. You're not an adversary, he reminds himself. You're not an enemy.
"I can't teach you that." He stares in an unusually cold tone, sending shivers down your spine. A tone Aventurine reserves for when a business deal has gone wry, for when he needs to put on his best performance and come back at the top. Unfortunately, this means there's no room for you to argue, no negotiations, no nothing.
You realize a bit too late that you've made him uncomfortable.
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"I'm sorry" Apologies keep flowing from your mouth, but Aventurine can barely hear them. All he knows is the warning bells in his ears are growing fainter, and you are once more becoming recognizable, the blur in your face diminishing by the second.
"It's okay," he laughs softly, ruffling your hair to dispel the gloom on your face.
"I don't remember much anyway- I can't teach you anything meaningful, you know? I think Tanti or any of the likes would do much better for your next research material than my native language. We have a reputation across the cosmos anyway, that language can't be intriguing to people."
"Huh?" You tilt your head in confusion, "I'm not going to write a paper on it though???"
"Then what did you want to learn it for?"
"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to get to know you better."
The feeling of discomfort is back with that, and Aventurine finds himself trying to figure out how to come up with a valid excuse to end the conversation. If he isn't careful, you'll catch on. And if you catch on, you'll keep insisting on trying to understand him, to mend your mistakes and to avoid something similar in future. Then, he'd simply have to cut you off before you go too far. And he'd rather not cut you off and keep you by his side. Yes please, thanks.
You speak once more, but this time you avert your gaze from his eyes and focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet. "If you're not comfortable teaching me, I won't insist. I apologize if I overstepped. I want you to know that my intentions were not malicious. I simply wanted to learn your language so that we could converse in it, and I'm open to sharing my own language with you if you're interested."
Ah. You've now started to speak with more formal and eloquent words than usual, a habit Aventurine has picked up on thanks to observing you for so many years. You always do that when nervous, along with averting eye contact- and you're now anxious.
"it's okay," he reassures you again. "I know what you mean. So no need to worry, hm?"
His words seem to have given you a confidence boost, because your next words catch him off guard again.
"Also, I found your language to be quite beautiful."
"....Beautiful?"
"Yes," you gesture with your hands as you continue, "it's very melodious, you know? I'm familiar with the Sigonian language, as it was one of the languages I studied during my major. However, the Avgin dialect sounds... different. Of course, you're a very quiet mumbler—obviously— and I couldn't understand much- but I've realized that the Avgin is not only is not only significantly different from standard Sigonian, but it also has a much sweeter sound. As a linguist, it's disheartening to think that this sweetness has gone unnoticed by the world."
The initial panic has completely dissipated for Aventurine, replaced by a sadness even he can't place what for. He has half a mind to laugh, and tell you that his people were sweet too, but no one cared for that either. He wants to say of course it sounded sweeter, the standard Sigonian had always been dry and lacking the warmth, any Avgin would agree with you. And yet, he dares not let the dam loose.
Instead of voicing his thoughts, he decides to observe you, as the ringing in his ears has now completely silenced. The you in front of his eyes is meek, likely because you've assumed you overstepped and made him upset. He hates seeing that expression on you: truly, especially when you shouldn't have to feel that guilt. He knows you well enough to know you're not lying, and for a split second— he entertains the idea of sharing the sweetness of his language with you, to have someone else who can understand his tongue.
He decides it's not an entirely uncomfortable thought.
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It has been a few weeks since he agreed to teach you the Avgin dialect, and he still finds it surprising that he made that decision. Everything related to the Avgins and their culture is dear to him, including his people, his family, and of course, kakavasha; he protects them with all of his being. However, for some reason, he has chosen to share this delicate and intimate part of himself with you. After all, he is the last known surviving Avgin—this is more than personal; it's his mother tongue, for goodness' sake!
You've proven yourself to be a very very dedicated student, absorbing every piece of information he imparts like a sponge. Aventurine is unsure of how to teach you, as he himself is losing touch with his language thanks to not speaking it for years. Because of you, he now thinks more in Avgin and realizes how much he thought he had forgotten but still remembered, and how much he thought he remembered but had forgotten.
But it's nice, to be greeted in his language whenever you two come across each other. You're still cheerful and sparkling as before, but now you can greet him in his language. «Hello, how's your day going!!!» You ask him each time, with that accent and broken words that makes you sound childish more than anything. But Aventurine could care less about that; he's quick to greet you back each time, adding a new word so you learn something from each interaction.
You've told him that he's much much more expressive whenever speaking Avgin, but he tries not to think about it.
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"Manro means bread," Aventurine informs you, observing quietly as you eagerly jot it down in your notepad. "I quite like the feel of pen and paper," you told him once, and he still can't comprehend why that's preferable to typing on a screen instead.
"Mañro?" you repeat, and he has to conceal an affectionate smile at your accent. It's unfamiliar and odd, but not disliked. Never disliked.
"Manro." He corrects, and you get it down this time.
"So….«manro» means bread and you said…«pani» meant water? So let's say I wanna talk about my lunch….«I water with bread eat?» Is that how you say it?"
Aventurine purses his lips, trying to appear serious. "No, it's «I ate bread with water.» But what's with that meal choice? That can't be good for you."
You only huff in response, "hey— I'm still learning okay!! How do you say wine?"
"Mol"
"Mol— how about wanting to drink or taste?"
Aventurine raises an eyebrow, "Zumavel"
"Okok. So…. «I want to taste wine really bad. Might die.»"
Aventurine snickers at that, turning his gaze away to avoid receiving another punch from you. Despite the fact that you've opted for this inefficient learning method—since he can't provide proper grammar lessons—the sentences you're coming up with are hilarious.
"Not quite. It's «I want to drink wine so bad that I might die»" he corrects you again, and you let out an embarrassed laugh to write the correct structure down. You've promised him you'll figure out the grammatical structure and everything to him after all. And he can't say he's not hoping you actually will.
"How do you say eye?"
"Just like how you say in standard Sigonian"
"Ohhh….I've noticed that body part names are usually unchanged in the Avgin dialect. How about warmth?"
"We call it tato" he smiles at you, and your cheeks tint the faintest hue of pink as you look away.
"«Your eyes—»" you purse your lips, thinking hard to form the structure "«-Are warm right now. Very warm.»"
Aventurine's eyes widen, and for a moment he's speechless; unable to comprehend how and why. But you're blushing, and playing with the hem of your shirt, which means at the very least you aren't lying.
«I'm afraid you've become my heart» He says under his breath, the words escaping his mouth before he can even stop them. It tastes sweet in his tongue, memories of a time long gone resurfacing. He didn't even remember that saying, up until now. And now, he has a little more understanding of how sweet his mother tongue really is.
"What does that mean?" You ask him, and he merely smiles at that.
"Nothing. I just said thank you."
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A/N : gah I'm sorry for that word vomit I can't stop thinking about it....like one been thinking for months about his language and what it might mean for him now that he's (presumably) the only avgin left. My mother tongue has PLENTY of dialects, and there are certain ones that are totally different from the standard (I don't understand some of those) so I kind of projected....and other than that I hope it wasn't too bad omg
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ghostsangel · 3 days
Note
Could I request being friends with Ghost (who's desperately in love with you) and admitting to him one night that you don't think anyone would ever love you? If reader is plus size that would be amazing! Thank you 😊
oh my god this is adorable!!! sorry if this is too short or it sucks. totally felt like writer’s block.
simon “ghost” riley x fem!plus-size reader
tags/warnings: a lil internalized fatphobia, smitten ghost, this is legit fluff bro, a bit of angst if you squint
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You’re so tired of being alone.
It sounds stupid, but you’ve never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed or had sex or even held hands with a guy. A big part of you feels like it’s because you’ve got a bit more meat on your bones—apron belly, saggy boobs, thick thighs. How would you expect anyone to love those parts of yourself when you barely do yourself?
“You alright?” Simon’s voice tugs you out of your thoughts.
You blink and look at him, forcing your lips to tug up into a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”
“About?” He takes a sip of his beer, leaning back against your couch.
You’ve been friends with Simon for a couple of years. You met through mutual acquaintances, and found he’s really fun to hang out with. Caring, a bit goofy when he’s drunk, protective. In truth, you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him. But, surely, someone who looks like Simon….yeah, you’re out of his league.
You shrug, crossing your arms in front of your belly and leaning back on the couch. “Things.”
Simon raises his brows. “Things,” he repeats. “Come on, tell me. We’ve been friends for a long time, doll.”
His eyes pierce through you, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your face. Averting your gaze, you rub your thighs together, shaking your head. “It’s stupid.”
Simon grunts and sets his beer down, moving to sit next to you on the couch. He turns your head to face him, fingers on your chin. A prickly subject for you—your double chin makes you so self-conscious, you could cry.
“C’mon, nothin’ you say could be stupid,” he reassures you, releasing your chin.
You’re silent for a moment before you sigh. “Just thinkin’ about me. And how I’ve never been loved, and probably never will be.”
Simon blinks at you, brows drawing together. “And why do you think that?”
You look at him incredulously, your hands gesturing to your body. “Because I look like…this. I’m fat. And guys don’t—”
“Shut it,” Simon says, tilting your head up by your chin. There’s a look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. “You’re bloody beautiful, doll. Your body makes men like me weak, and it drives me crazy.” He leans in, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Ever since I met you, you’re all I fuckin’ think about. Think I’ve loved you since that first day.”
Your heart stops, and your brain scrambles as you try to reply. “I—what? You…what?”
Simon laughs softly, his fingers moving to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about anyone not loving you, sweetheart. I already do. Been crazy about you since we met.”
“Really?” You breathe out, meeting his eyes. “You’re not just lyin’ to me or makin’ fun of me or—”
Simon shuts you up with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours slowly. You kiss him back, clumsily, not sure what to do. You just follow his lead, letting him take control. The kiss causes heat to run down your spine and you pull back after a moment.
“I’ve never…” You trail off, meeting his eyes.
“I know. Don’t worry, love. I’ll be all your firsts if you let me.”
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bitterbutblue · 2 days
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feixiao on top!
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i'm guilty of falling for you twice ☆ feixiao x reader
~ feixiao is so cool shes so cool but shes also so babygirl coded u need to hear me out guys u need to SEE my vision like shes so babygirl coded please hjgsfjkhdlkjlka anyways domestic fluff with feixiao because we should love her more instead of thirsting over her
song: fallin' twice - chevy (robin's singing voice!!)~
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
"Jiaoqiu, can you stop that!"
"I'm trying to cook!"
"You're being irritating-"
Feixiao lets out a loud groan as the sounds of bickering fill the room once more. Being around you and Jiaoqiu always feels like a babysitting job with how often the two of you argue over the smallest things, whether it be his food being too spicy or your need to add coriander to everything.
"Guys, please."
Her voice cuts through the bickering like a knife, and you immediately shut up. You look away, pouting like a child with your arms crossed as Jiaoqiu raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Feixiao.
"How'd you get her to shut up?" Jiaoqiu looks at Feixiao, who just hums as she flips to the next page in her book with minimal regards to your pouty state. You shoot a glare at him.
"Do you want me to keep going?"
"Both of you, calm down." Feixiao rolls her eyes "Jiaoqiu, can you excuse us for a bit?"
"Wha-"
The look she shoots his way has him closing his mouth and leaving the room with a disgruntled huff. The second the door closes, Feixiao gets up to walk towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.
"Darling-"
"He was being a bitch!"
"Language." She chides, lightly flicking the back of your head with her finger. You wince, but ultimately melt into her embrace as she rests her head atop yours.
"You mustn't keep picking fights with him, he saved my life."
"He's a cocky little bitch." You whine, and she just laughs. Her laugh sounds genuine, not those she puts on for appearance in front of the other generals, or in front of Jiaoqiu or Moze. Her laugh around you is light, and for a moment all you can focus on is the feeling of her heart beating through her chest, echoing onto you as her hand interlaces itself with yours.
"He may be sometimes, but you should still try to see him the way I do."
You turn around to face your girlfriend, sighing.
"I don't actually hate him, Feixiao."
"I know. But for my sake, stop arguing with him all the time?"
You don't notice the way her breath hitches in her throat when you smile up at her, you don't notice the way her heart jumps and flips when you reach up to cup her cheek. You don't see how her eyes soften when you tilt your head to the side with a small smile.
You don't notice how she falls for you all over again over something as simple as a smile.
"Anything for you baby."
She just blinks, face turning a light pink and you grin.
"Flustered?"
"No." She responds quickly, clearing her throat as she looks away. You grin up at her, pulling her so that she's now standing in front of you.
"You're so pretty when you blush." You whisper, and her ears fold down from embarrassment which has your heart absolutely soaring. Who else gets to see the tough general like this?
"You- uh.." Her eyes dart around the room anxiously, worried that someone may walk in.
"Stop worrying."
She yelps when you tug her down,. She stumbles over her feet, catching herself on the armrests of your chair so that she has you caged in between her arms. She turns redder at your close proximity and you laugh because how is she still so flustered around you when you've been dating for almost two years now?
"You're adorable."
She wants to swoon, the great general of the Yaoqing reduced to a giggly mess over her girlfriend. It took her a while to finally be able to put her guard down around you, but being able to do that was the best decision of her life. You love her, unconditionally.
She loves you, unconditionally.
"You're... you're also cute." She mumbles out, and you smile up at her before moving to quickly give her a peck on the lips.
"I know."
She finally lets out another laugh, the softest smile on her face.
"Get over yourself..." She mumbles, before kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, hand cupping her cheek before she pulls away.
"Jiaoqiu will return any moment now. Do I look alright?"
Her face is red, ears flapped downwards and she looks like a giggly schoolgirl after seeing her crush.
She looks perfect to you.
"He will definitely suspect something."
"Fuck."
Se doesn't get any time to even recompose herself because Jiaoqiu storms in, finger pointed up at you two as if accusing you of a crime.
"I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT- GAY PEOPLE! GAYS! MOZE, YOU OWE ME!! THEY'RE GAY AND KISSING!"
"JIAOQIU, GET OUT!"
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Text
Anon: How would yan chuuya, jouno, light, megumi and gojo react to a darling that just doesn't care that they're yanderes?
I already did a similar concept with Chuuya before but I added him nonetheless because I wrote this with a darling in mind that is even fine with the Yandere killing
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, isolation, murder
Tags: @maggiequinn59 @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @lovley-valentine7
Darling doesn't care that they are obsessed
Yagami Light
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✍️Light takes the information very well, a pleased grin on his lips when he realises that none of the things that he does seem to bother you. It’s a sign of submission from your side, something that could only ever please a man with a god complex like he has. This is how it should be after all. You should know your place and love him utterly and completely for the perfect being that he is. Light has done some terrible things in the name of his proclaimed love for you, things that he believes he has the right to do as no one is allowed to steal the person away from him that he plans to keep by his side after he has become the New God. Stealing what belongs to a deity is nothing short of a sin. A sin that has to be punished with death itself. After having confirmed that his feelings for you haven’t scared you nor have some of the actions that he has committed which you were aware of, Light starts truly testing how far your adoration and your dedication go for him. He reveals his ideologies, his mission, his identity to you as well as the future he plans to have with you all whilst you remain loving and loyal. Oh, you are indeed worthy of ruling this world alongside with him. He chose wisely.
Nakahara Chuuya
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🟠Chuuya tends to let his delusional side get the better of him yet upon initial discovery that you truly don’t care about his behavior as long as he keeps on loving you and treating you well, the Executive is a tad bit concerned. Are you sure? You’re really fine with all of this? He’s in the Port Mafia, he’s killed people for you even. It’s just hard to believe that you accept all of it as gracious as you do to the point where Chuuya wonders if you’re trying to trick him. That distrust remains for a while even if you give him no reason to doubt you. Paranoia is rarely soothed by logic after all. Once Chuuya has been convinced that you truly mean it when you say that you don’t care about his obsession he gets undeniably more delusional though. If you don’t mind his obsession after all he can’t possibly be as bad as he thought he was. He starts indulging in his obsession for you more and more as you basically give him a free pass, asks of you to move in with him so that he can protect you better all whilst spoiling the living shit out of you. He doesn’t really have to hold himself back as much anymore which leads the Executive to turn his possessive behavior up quite a bit. You won’t mind after all.
Jouno Saigiku
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♦️For Jouno this knowledge is a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hand you are easier to deal with, don’t throw any tantrums which could get on his nerves and show quite a level of obedience that deeply satisfies his possessive side. The composed sound of your heart doesn’t overwhelm him but sometimes he also finds himself getting bored. Don’t forget that this Hunting Dog is still an utter sadist after all who would love to listen to the melody of your frantic heartbeat once in a while. After all it’s quite unspectacular for you to be so monotonous with your behavior and your acceptance all of the time. As much obedience and acceptance you may give him after all, it is all for naught if Saigiku doesn’t have control over you by having you fear him. Loyalty and love are not enough in his mind, not if there isn’t fear that weights you down and has you carefully thinking about every stupid decision you might make. The sadist inside of him is truly talking out of him with this desire yet Jouno never attempts to restrain his actions. Since you’ve already taken so well to everything that he’s done so far he’s sure you won’t mind learning how to be a bit scared of him~
Fushiguro Megumi
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💙Megumi’s silent paranoia has led him to justify his overprotective and somewhat overbearing behavior most of the time yet there is a shred of awareness still left somewhere inside of him. It is this last shred of sanity that is the only thing letting him know that you shouldn’t think this way, that you should be scared of him. Perhaps you’re trying to trick him? Something holds Megumi back from believing you when you first admit it to him, almost accusing you of trying to fool him so that he lets his guard down. The moment you manage to convince him though that you are speaking the truth the last shard of awareness shatters and leaves him thoroughly led by his paranoid and overprotective instincts. Of course he trusts you. It’s everyone else that he doesn’t trust though. So you two better spend time alone with each other where others won’t be able to bother the two of you. When he isn’t with you, try not to leave the house. If you do, please contact him and let him know where you are, what you are doing and when you are back home again. No, he isn’t overbearing and overprotective. He only wants to ensure your safety, wants to know you’re safe.
Gojo Satoru
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🩵Gojo totally eats your behavior up as soon as he knows that you really don’t mind his overbearing, clingy and paranoid attitude. This man has no restrains to begin with as he never holds his affection back but everything becomes even more gross for the people forced to watch as soon as you indirectly give him the free pass. The man is thrilled, constantly smothers you in love and presents and he quickly pushes this relationship to move in the direction he wants it to go. You quickly find yourself moving in with him as it takes him little to no time to convince you, you find yourself spending an almost overwhelming amount of time with him as he gets quickly jealous when you pay attention to others as his possessive and needy nature quickly cages you in. You’re compliant, you’re sweet and you love him for the person that he is which only pushes Gojo to cling tigthter and tighter to you. He finds comfort in you, he finds his peace when he’s with you and he only confines his pain and his feelings to you. You know him. You understand him. You love him. For those reasons he will never let you leave him nor will he ever let anyone lay a finger on you.
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mononijikayu · 1 day
Text
gum— ryomen sukuna.
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GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!
WARNING/S: nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, smut, oral (female receiving) fingering, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, bad boy bf! sukuna, goodie two shoes gf!;
WORD COUNT: 1.2k words.
NOTE: the song ggum by txt's yeonjun is stuck in my head and i just??? i can't stop listening to it right now. i want to stop, but like??? its really really good. anyway, i'm working on other things right now and most of them are going to be in the longer format. but i hope you enjoy them anyway. i'll be back with something new soon!!! i love you all <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
IF THERE’S ANYTHING SUKUNA’S GOOD AT, IT'S CHEWING GUM AND WINNING YOU. And your boyfriend revels in it. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your fingers tangling in the sheets beneath you as Ryomen Sukuna’s mouth works you over with expert precision.
It’s a sight you never thought you’d be part of—a "goodie two-shoes" girl, everyone’s picture-perfect student, tangled up with the campus bad boy. But here you are, completely undone. He’s the only one who can do this to you. And he knows it.
You could feel his rough hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you pinned down while his tongue moves skillfully against your throbbing core. He grinned as though he was delighted. Because you know he was. You knew that he was happy, that none would see him the way he does. No one's allowed to see his goodie two shoes like this but him. And no one will.
You can't stop the loud echoing moans spilling from your lips, the intensity of his mouth sending sparks through your body. Your hips move on their own, grinding against his face as his tongue flicks and curls in a rhythm that drives you to the edge.
You glance down, and the sight of him between your legs only adds fuel to the fire. His bright scarlet eyes lock with yours, a wicked gleam in them as he gives you a grin, never slowing his pace. Your face twists in pleasure, a mix of gasps and whimpers falling from your lips. Your boyfriend’s the most wicked man in the world. And you’re excited about it. 
You feel like you’re going to lose it, your body trembling, legs shaking as he pulls you deeper into a euphoric haze. You haven’t come in a while, not even when you want to. You were too crazy about not failing your exams. And Sukuna respected that. But you know it too well that it got the best of him too, to wait. He likes pleasure as much as he loves you. And Sukuna adores having both. 
Even with his tongue buried deep between your thighs, Ryomen Sukuna’s bad-boy persona never falters. You catch the faintest scent of mint—he’s chewing gum, the same cocky grin stretching across his lips while he devours you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
You don't know why he does it. But he does this sometimes. And he enjoys it. So you feel the sweetness of his mouth and the mint of his breath take you in as though there was nothing sweeter or delicious in the world than you.
The rhythm of his tongue never stops, even as he adjusts his jaw slightly, that damn piece of gum rolling from one side of his mouth to the other. It’s maddening, the way he’s so casual about it, like he isn’t unraveling you entirely, like he’s not completely in control.
Your body’s trembling, skin on fire as you push your hips harder against his mouth, chasing the wave of pleasure building with every stroke of his tongue. He hums against your soaked core, and the vibration sends a shudder up your spine. 
"Mm, tastes better than gum, doll." he murmurs, his voice muffled, laced with amusement. "You tastin' so good, even better than before."
He doesn't even stop to swallow his words, just dives back in, his grip on your thighs tightening, pulling you closer to his face. You bite your lip to stifle a scream, overwhelmed by the sensation. It was all too much. And yet you still craved for more.
Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably, and Sukuna seems to revel in it, his mouth never losing its cruel, delicious pace. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and the sound of him lazily chewing that gum only heightens the absurdity, making your head spin.
You grind against his face, desperate for release, and with a low growl, Sukuna pushes you over the brink. The world around you shatters into blinding pleasure as your body shakes and trembles under his relentless mouth. His tongue doesn’t let up, riding you through the waves, leaving you breathless and spent, pinned under the weight of his wicked grin.
Your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath, still trembling from the intense orgasm Sukuna just pulled from you. Unshed tears pooling in your eyes, your head slanted to the side, as you take a breath. He made a mess out of you.
He pulls back slightly, lips glistening with evidence of his handiwork, and that damn piece of gum is still in his mouth, rolling lazily over his tongue. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and then, with that smug grin of his, he looks up at you, eyes dark with mischief.
"Didn't expect the good girl to be such a mess, doll." he teases, his voice low and full of that rough-edged charm. His fingers trace lazy circles along your inner thigh, sending aftershocks through your overstimulated body. “You sure you're not addicted to this already?”
You try to glare at him, but your body betrays you, hips still twitching slightly, aching for more despite everything.
"S-Shut up!" you manage to gasp, but it’s weak, your voice shaky from how thoroughly he wrecked you. The smirk on his face grows wider as he leans forward, his breath hot against your thigh.
"You’re all shy and innocent in class, doll." he continues, his voice dripping with arrogance. "But when you're spread out for me, you can’t stop begging for it, huh?"
His words are teasing, cruel in a way that makes your pulse quicken, but there’s something magnetic in the way he says it. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s infuriating. You try to sit up, but he pushes you back down gently, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before trailing his mouth back up toward your sensitive core.
"What’s the rush, doll, hm?" he purrs, eyes locked on yours, completely unbothered. "I’m not done with you yet. I’m still…hungry."
You can feel him smirking against your skin as he slides a finger through your slickness, deliberately slow, watching your reaction. "Look at you, doll." he drawls, clearly enjoying every second of your helplessness. "Already soaked again. Guess I’m pretty good at this, huh?"
You grit your teeth, trying not to give him the satisfaction of another moan, but your body betrays you, heat pooling in your stomach again. His finger teases you mercilessly, sliding just barely inside before pulling away, leaving you aching for more.
"Come on, just admit it, doll." he coaxes, clearly reveling in your frustration. "You love it when I do this, don't you?" His finger circles your entrance again, maddeningly slow, as he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, doll. Tell me how much you love it."
You want to resist, but the words slip out in a breathless whisper before you can stop them. You mewl in pleasure. "I love it. I love it so much, baby!"
Sukuna chuckles darkly, satisfied. "That’s my bestest girl, hm?”
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