#maybe I’ll clean it up more eventually

[riwooga]

"I should take a break so I don’t strain my wrist more than necessary" I said only to immediately end up doodling and getting carried away 🥲

Anyway have some Riley in his kitty outfit 💕💕💕 (with a bonus 5 min messy Leighton lol)

[futureghost97]

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[lokis-army-77]

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.” 

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

And then the live is over. 

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 

He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’ 

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 

"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer. 

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

… 

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised. 

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” 

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise. 

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg. 

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah?” You whisper. 

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 

[starkwlkr]

Imagine helping old man logan with his claws after they get stuck like in the movie. Kissing the space between his knuckles 😭 this is all I can think about after rewatching logan recently

one more kiss, dear | old man logan

an: oh god that scene 😭 old man logan let me give you a hug <3 tried to find a gif with that scene but i couldn’t so here’s this:

mutant!reader (someone said we need more aging reader fics and I AGREE so that’s what this is)

You were folding Logan’s clothes when he stumbled in with his claws sticking out, we’ll sort of. You could see some blood on his white shirt. It hurt to see him like that. He didn’t speak to you at all and you didn’t push him to. Maybe he just wanted peace and quiet . .

He sat on the old bed, watching you as you finished folding his last shirt, that’s when you finally took a look at his hand.

“No,” Logan stopped you from grabbing his hand. Your ability to regenerate was failing like his, he certainly didn’t want you to get hurt. “I’ll do it.”

You weren’t going to take no as an answer. Ignoring Logan, you kneeled in front of him and took his hand in yours. You mentally prepared yourself for the pain. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around the claw that was stuck and pulled. Blood started pouring down the palm of your hand, but you didn’t care. The pain in your body seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the claw.

You could hear groaning coming from Logan, which made your heart ache more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” You whisper to him as the claw moved forward.

After what seemed like forever, you finally got the claw to its place. You stumble back, your body filled with exhaustion and pain, but all you could think about was how Logan felt. You looked up at the old man, the relief and love you saw in his gaze were both heart-wrenching and comforting.

It took a couple a minutes, but the claws eventually disappeared back into his hand. Logan winced as they went back in.

After wrapping your hand in some bandages, you took Logan’s hand again. The bloody knuckles, the wounds, the suffering . . . You didn’t want this life for him.

“I hurt you.” Was all Logan could say as he saw the bandage on your hand.

You ignored the comment, instead you wiped away some of the blood form his knuckles with a rag he had on the table beside the bed. After cleaning up the blood, you let him know you were okay by placing kisses where the claws had just come out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to him, almost sounding like you were about to cry. “It’s okay.” Even as your own strength ebbed away, you knew your greatest comfort was simply being there for him.

“We’re going to be okay.” You placed one last kiss on his knuckle.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Maybe Spencer is having a bad BAD day, full on ptsd, and sunshine!reader is trying hard to cheer him up. It gets to a point where Spmcer just snaps and says something mean and starts a fight

Spencer can feel the bars around him. He feels trapped in his own mind because he can see that he isn’t in prison anymore, but his brain has been conjuring these vivid dreams of him being back and of Shaw sending men to beat him up.

Every night, the dreams end with Spencer never being found not guilty and him having to spend five years in prison and his eventual death from Shaw’s men.

He’s gasping and shaking and there’s a sweat spot on his sheets. He apologises every morning, you tell him it’s okay and that you’re here to talk. He never wants to talk about it and you never push.

He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night and it makes him irritable.

When he comes into work, you try not to internalise the way he brushes you out of his path as he beelines for the coffee pot.

“I already put your cup on your desk. With breakfast.” You try to temper your cheeriness when you notice the way his shoulders tense.

Spencer wants to be grateful, but all he can think is, ‘I can do it myself. I can take care of myself.’

He doesn’t say anything, not a quiet thanks, not even a half smile.

Your nerves are frayed immediately.

You don’t know what Spencer experienced in prison, he’s told you bits and pieces, the nicer parts of living in a 4 x 4.

Yet, you know the signs of PTSD and as the day drags on, you’re almost certain Spencer’s having a rough go of things.

He’s been snappy with Luke, nice with Penelope, and then flippant with you all over again. It’s hard not to feel like nothing you do is helping.

“We could go out to get lunch. From the place you like, the burger joint.” Spencer’s been slipping in and out of this conversation and the longer he hears your sweet voice, the more it sounds like chalk grating a blackboard.

At his silence, “Or we could order in? Whatever helps, Spence.”

Suddenly, his coffee cup is shattering in the wall behind your head and Spencer’s chest is racing. “Stop!” You feel hot tears prick behind your eyes at being yelled at; at work no less.

“It would help if you weren’t fucking hovering all the damn time. I can take care of myself, I don’t need your help. As a matter of fact, I don’t want your help. Go find someone else to be happy go lucky with, some of us can’t stand it.”

Your breath hitches, you’ve never heard Spencer speak with such venom. You reach a hand to your cheek pulling it away to find blood on your fingertips. Spencer must see it too because he’s on his feet, reaching for you as you step away from his outstretched hands.

You try to remind yourself that he’s just reeling, that he’s been having a rough couple of nights, that this will pass and that you don’t need to be mean to him too. “Fuck you Spencer.” The words are out of you before you can think about it much more. It’s honestly the nicest thing you could muster right now, embarrassment and defeat hot in your chest.

Emily and Matt rush in, finding Spencer tugging at his hair. Emily sighs as she sees the broken mug, Matt sighs as he notes your missing presence.

“Fucking stupid.” Spencer murmurs to himself, pushing back his chair, digging around in his desk for a first aid kit. “I’ll come back and clean it up,” no one is really listening. Emily will do this for him while he cleans up his other mess.

Spencer finds you in the bathroom with Penelope cleaning the little shards from your hair and cheek.

She glares at him and Spencer feels even worse; to top it off you don’t even look at him, just at his shoes.

“I’ll finish it, Garcia.” She stills, not knowing what to do. As she looks at you, you give her a little nod and she leaves, rubbing your back as she goes.

Spencer doesn’t approach you for some time, standing there like you’re the one who exploded and he’s waiting for another shout.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, taking up the tweezers Penelope left behind and reaching for your cheek. Spencer cradles your face gently as he picks the shards out. “I shouldn’t have thrown the mug, or said any of what I said.”

You don’t say anything, letting him continue. “You don’t hover, and I love that you’re always smiling and happy. It’s not an excuse but my dreams are really getting to me, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

You offer Spencer your other hand. You weigh your words, “No you shouldn’t have. I understand that some of what happened while you were in prison is too hard to talk about, but you need to talk to someone Spencer. You can’t just throw things and scream and then shut people out.”

He nods, “Luke recommended me to a psychiatrist for people suffering from PTSD, but I guess I felt like going would be me admitting that things there got to me.”

You sigh, “I’m not sure if I can do this if you’re going to shut me out and be violent like that.” At Spencer’s panicked eyes you continue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, but this unchecked shit is going to. Whether you mean for it to or not.”

Spencer opens the first aid kit and swipes at your cheek gently, grateful that it hadn’t been a deep cut. Still he knows the silver scar it’s going to leave will eat at him forever.

“I made an appointment for tomorrow at nine.” He mumbles, worry and dread eating at his stomach. “I know it might take a bit for you to trust me again-“

You roll your eyes, “I do trust you. I trust that you’ll go to therapy, use all the tools given to you and cue me in when things are too hard. I trust that you won’t do this again Spencer. I’m not going to punish you for having an off day.”

Tears spring to his eyes unconsciously, “You don’t want to leave? Because I’d understand if you wanted to.”

You kiss his wrist, “No I don’t want to. I know you’re going to get better, but if there’s a next time, Spencer I’m not staying.”

“There won’t be a next time, I swear.” He kisses right under your injured cheek, tender and soft.

[princessbrunette]

boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.

he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.

“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.

the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.

“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”

he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.

“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.

rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.

full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”

he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.

he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.

he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.

hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.

“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.

he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.

“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.

“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.

he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”

he certainly was.

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part one ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, love.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovey. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right then and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

next >>

[luveline]

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside. 

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?” 

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light. 

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat. 

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside. 

It’s good to be home. 

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated. 

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone. 

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive. 

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways. 

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves. 

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate. 

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away. 

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast. 

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently. 

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in. 

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness. 

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side. 

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.” 

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything. 

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…”  Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?” 

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.” 

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.” 

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?” 

“She won’t let me eat.” 

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.” 

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?” 

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.” 

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for. 

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you. 

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.” 

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.” 

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks. 

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?” 

“Avery’s always nice.” 

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.” 

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” 

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.” 

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.” 

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away. 

“You comfortable enough?” he asks. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” 

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.” 

“But you had fun, right?” 

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.” 

“Exhausted?” you ask. 

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.” 

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.” 

“You did not.” 

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy). 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.” 

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek. 

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.” 

“Love you, Steve.” 

“Love you, too.”

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

~

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

~

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

[bwabys-scenarios]

Yandere!JJK/HXH men when you take over domestic duties(NSFW)

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, implied Stockholm syndrome, yandere characters, nsfw in Gojo’s, Leorio’s and Geto’s, Illumi is the worst yandere to have, implications of reader being harmed in Illumi’s, reader is chubby

A/N: sorry if some of these are out of character, it’s been forever since I watched JJK and I’ve only seen season one!

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Geto, Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Illumi

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

JJK

Gojo

He’s ecstatic. Although Gojo is perfectly capable of keeping his own home clean and making his own food, he’s more than happy to watch you walk around in a sweater and jeans, tidying up the place and making a meal for the two of you to share. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”

He can’t help but coo and fawn over you, pulling you away from your work to smother you in kisses and right squeezes. He’s got a bad case of cuteness aggression, and can sometimes forget his own strength. It’s best you let this happen, he’s in a good mood, and you’d rather stay on his good side.

His reward is to stay between your plush thighs, making you cum on his tongue until you’re crying and begging him to stop. Because it’s a reward, he’ll listen this time. Gojo wants this to be good for you after all, since you have finally begun acting like you’re supposed to, like the perfect stay at home girlfriend and not the woman he keeps captive.

Nanami

Although his heart races with joy and love when he notices you’ve started taking over the cooking and cleaning, he still can’t stand to see his darling do all of the tasks around the house, so he used this an excuse to get you to love him bond with you more. He’ll roll up his sleeves after a hard day of work and come up behind you, hands taking away the spatula. “I’ve got this, you go relax.”

He’s determined to spoil you for the upcoming week, bringing home sweets from his favorite bakery to share with you and buying you those books you’ve been asking for. After all, it gets boring being trapped in his home every day. He might as well give you a reward for being such a good girl.

Choso

When he comes home to see you wearing an apron and cooking dinner, he nearly fucking LOSES it. He just stares at you from the doorway, mouth agape. When he took you, you cried and cried begging to go home every day, and now you were humming to a song on the radio as you made dinner for the two of you. “Princess, that smells amazing.”

He follows you around as you work, watching until you swat him away for making you nervous. Choso can’t help but swoon when you offer him a plate of food, face hot with embarrassment.

Geto

He more or less expected you to get the hang of being his little wife eventually, so it’s less of a shock and more of pleasant surprise to see you with your hair pulled back as you dust the bookshelf in his office. “My, my, seems my little wife has gotten busy.”

Although this was expected of you, Geto still goes out to buy you a new apron and cleaning supplies, along with your comfort food to reward you for your good behavior. Maybe you’re finally coming around to the idea that you’re his wife, and will respect him as your husband! He’ll hold you in his lap, letting you cockwarm him as he keeps a hand on your plump hip. “There you go, that’s my sweet little wife. Taking me so well, you’re ready for a creampie aren’t you? You can take it, sit still and pretty and I’ll let you call your family this weekend.”

HXH

Kurapika

He had made the kitchen perfect for use, all the(hard plastic) utensils in your favorite color, and a fridge always full of fresh food. Kurapika hoped you would eventually come around to cooking and cleaning, but he certainly didn’t mind doing the work himself if it meant you would be happy and comfortable. When he saw you preparing a meal for him after seeing he’d been losing weight and skipping meals, he nearly cried from joy.

You were worried for him, you cared about his health! He wasn’t delusional, he knew he took you away from your friends and family and had a love for you that sometimes crossed into obsession, but it was obvious his efforts to make you happy and comfortable had worked. “Angel, I cannot explain how happy this makes me, thank you.”

He spends the rest of the night doting on you, wanting nothing more than to snuggle and hold you to him. Kurapika is just incredibly happy to know despite your tentative behavior towards him, you at least care about his health and well being. That’s the first step towards falling in love, and he’s determined to make sure he follows through each and every step.

Leorio

Honestly, with his busy schedule working at the hospital, he didn’t have much time to cook and clean. Thankfully, you eventually got fed up with eating takeout and living in a messy home, so you took over the cooking and cleaning for your own sanity. When Leorio came home from an especially brutal shift, he nearly cried when he saw the apartment clean and smelled dinner cooking. His little princess was cooking and cleaning, all for him! His guilt from kidnapping you faded away into mushy lovey dovey thoughts as he came up behind you. “Mmm, princess you look like the perfect little house wife right now…”

You can’t help but notice the bulge poking into your ass, his hands wandering around your body. Usually he’s not so touchy, preferring to respect your boundaries in an effort to get you to trust and love him, but it’s hard to resist you when you’re making him a meal and looking oh so cute! He can’t help but squish your chubby tummy and grab at your plush thighs, tugging down your pants to get to your plump pussy!

Chrollo

Honestly, he never expected to come home to a meal being set on the table and the small home they were currently staying in to be spotless. Chrollo eyed the various dishes, raising an eyebrow at you. “You made this?”

You looked up at him, looking a little shy but accomplished. “Yeah… I figured you… would be hungry after your… job.”

Although you sounded sincere, Chrollo wasn’t stupid. He made you try a bite of everything before sitting down to eat. After seeing your look of disappointment when he questioned if it was poisoned, he almost felt bad. This was a genuine attempt at making a meal and trying to live as normal as a life as possible, but he was too jaded to just accept that. “Sorry, dear. I haven’t even thanked you for preparing such a lovely meal. Thank you.”

Illumi

He’s another one that expected you to do all of the domestic duties from the get go. Although there are butlers that take care of most of the work, you as his victim wife was expected to take care of his every need. You were very resistant to this at first, being absolutely terrified of him, but with a little ‘gentle’ pushing in the right direction, you were able to become the perfect, reluctant little house wife.

Although you preformed your duties to your best ability, you had never been genuine or happy to do them. He noticed this in the way your eyes looked empty and humiliated when forced to clean up the blood he tracked into your bedroom.

But tonight was different. You were excitedly cooking away in the kitchen, Illumi almost looking… soft when you smiled at him. Were you finally coming around? It took a lot of hard work, but he had finally molded you into a happy, cute little housewife. “Ah… is this my favorite meal? Thank you, it looks delicious…”

He noticed how your face lit up with his praise, the dark haired assassin taking note to use that to his advantage in the future.

[yuwuta]

WHEREVER YOU WANNA GO, THAT’S FINE WITH ME — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

cw mentioned/talks about death but not like… in a serious way 😭 this whole thing is very unserious and stupid it’s just a thought i couldn’t get out of my head, megumi being… megumi, f2l but what’s new, also inspired by some clip from a tv show i’ve seen on tt but idk the name of it, if you do pls let me know

you ask megumi you make one of those marriage pacts with you—that if neither of you are married by thirty-five, you two will get married to each other—and he just hums for a moment before asking, “do you think i’ll be better suited for marriage at thirty-five?”

“what? n—i don’t know? maybe? it just seems like an appropriate age to get married if you’re not already, that’s all,” you explain.

more humming. he blinks, “i don’t think i’ll be all that different at thirty-five.”

“well, that’s concerning,” you joke, “you’re supposed to change—grow a little bit as a person and all that, megumi. even you are capable of it.”

“i won’t want anything different out of a marriage at thirty-five than i would right now,” he corrects you, then turns to you, and with all seriousness demands, “so, state your stipulations. what do you want from me, let’s figure out of this is gonna work now.” 

you scoff, and cross your arms. “what do i want from you? that’s not how a marriage works.” 

“that’s how this friendship already works.” 

you say, megumi does; he pushes it than he should have, you say to stop, and eventually he does, and the cycle continues. he’s always stubborn, and sacrificing himself beyond necessity, and you’re always pulling his ear for it. 

“okay. fine,” you settle, straightening your posture, “i want a house. three bedrooms, so nobara and yuuji don’t have to bicker about sharing when they stay over.” 

megumi considers it, then counters with, “four. gojo needs a bedroom, too. one floor, i don’t like stairs.” 

“where the fuck are we going to find a one-level four-bedroom house? i don’t want to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” 

“we’ll find one,” he shrugs, doesn’t flinch when he promises: “or i’ll have one made for us. next: vacations.” 

“twice per year. somewhere tropical, and somewhere metropolitan.” 

“i don’t like the beach.” 

“then you don’t have to go on the beach.” 

“you’re responsible for me if i burn.” 

“i’m responsible for you either way, i’m your wife,” you taunt, “pets, next. i want dogs. two. maybe three. and a bunny.” 

“no bunnies, they’re too much work.”

“but i want a bunny, megumi.” 

“you won’t have time for a bunny,” he rolls his eyes, “and you’re gonna get pissed when it chews up the expensive couch you’re gonna make me buy, and takes a shit in the expensive fruit bowl you’re gonna con gojo out of. no bunnies.” 

you pout and frown, but megumi doesn’t budge: “no bunnies.” 

you sigh, “no bunnies, but i want the dogs.” 

“i didn’t say no to the dogs. unless you want a golden, then i’m not raising that.” 

“why not? we already have yuuji.” 

“exactly, we already have yuuji.” 

“fine. i want a king sized bed. the really big, oversized ones you get in america.” 

“done. children?” 

“you want children?”

megumi shrugs, but you swear there’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, “maybe. maybe not. if i did, no more than two.” 

and suddenly you can’t help but feel heat in your own face, hot with the image of two tiny megumis running around. 

“that’s fine with me. maybe kids, but no more than two,” you cough, “i want one of those heated driveways for the house.”

“i’ll have it built. i’ll clean and do laundry and take out the trash if you cook.”

“what about days i don’t cook?”

“then i’ll do that, too,” megumi nods, “anything else?”

“yes. if i die first, you can remarry, but you visit my grave at least twice a year, and bring peonies. and that picture of me from prom where i look really good.” 

“no.” 

you stop. you blink. “what do you mean ‘no?’ you wouldn’t visit my grave?—kinda cruel considering i birthed your up-to-two future children and raised your dogs.” 

“i won’t remarry. and i don’t want you to if i die first,” he corrects you, again, “and there’s no dying first and leaving me behind, i’m going with you.”

he doesn’t leave room for debate in his declarations: won’t, don’t; not wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t—you have to pinch yourself to stop chasing the rabbit of temptation running through your mind. 

“i don’t… think you get to decide that,” you chuckle. 

“of course i do,” megumi grins, uncrosses his legs and leans over. he reaches a hand to the back of your head and pushes it forward until your foreheads meet gently; and as if the affection wasn’t shocking enough, he continues, “where you go, i go. that’s marriage, right?” 

he widens his smile a bit, before letting you go, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms like nothing happened, and you’re left staring, blinking, breathing shallowly like prey that narrowly escaped being caught.

you don’t speak, so megumi does, “i have one more thing.” 

and slowly, you unthaw enough to let out a questioning hum. megumi tilts his head before telling you, “i want your last name.” 

“what? you—you would change your name?” you stutter, “but fushiguro is so pretty! and it’s your mom’s name, so few people get their mother’s names.” 

“yeah. this way, our up-to-two children get their mother’s names, too.” 

“i—okay… yeah, i guess they do,” you gape, then pout, “wait, what if i wanted to be mrs. fushiguro?” 

“tough luck,” he grins, “you get everything else.” 

you get me, instead, is what’s left unsaid. 

“okay, fine. sounds like a deal to me.” 

“great. we can’t have a spring wedding because gojo and toji will sneeze obnoxiously loudly, and we can’t have a summer wedding because the anniversary will conflict with our tropical vacation, and nobara will kill us if it’s too close to her birthday,” he says, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen, “so i’ll see you at the courthouse in september.” 

you nod reflexively, sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smile. it’s a while before your brain processes his words, and when it finally does, you spring up in a fluster, “september? megumi, i said when when we’re thirty-five and if neither of us are already married! megumi? megumi fushiguro, come back here!” 

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 4.2K

abstract -> “I hope we can get along” 

y/n’s perspective

“I’ve missed this place,” Wooyoung said as he got out of the elevator first. 

“You know, Taeyong is angry with you” I heard as I saw Yuta and I smiled. “He should’ve expected this,” I said and he chuckled. “Yes… but he needs to bring some sense to Kun” he said and I nodded.

“I can at least text him you're okay and you've made it back safely. Johnny also told me you needed a lot of rest, and to change the bandages once a day at least and clean them. He said that if you feel weak or tired, slow down and let your body rest you just got out of a coma” he scolded and I chuckled. 

“I can clean your wounds, '' Seonghwa asked and I smiled. “Thank you,” I said and I chose to ignore Yeosang’s glare at him. “Please take care of her… and y/n this place is clean but Johnny said avoid your room in case it triggers a bad memory,” he said and I nodded sadly. 

“Sleep early tonight, by the morning everyone's gonna know you're awake,” he said and I nodded as he left. “Come on, let's get ready for bed first,” Yeosang said and I nodded. Preening… or grooming a dog's version of taking care of their mate. I smiled softly at the thought. 

“I’ll make you some tea!” Wooyoung said as he went to the kitchen looking through the cupboard. “I’ll get the first aid kit ready,” Seonghwa said and I was happy to feel relieved around them again. 

I woke up to Seonghwa’s voice saying breakfast was made. Yeosang and Wooyoung tightened their grip on me. “A few more minutes,” Yeosnag said, still sleepy… “yeah a few more– WHY ARE YOU MAKING BREAKFAST THAT'S MY JOB!” Wooyoung yelled and I laughed. 

“It's already noon, and you were in a deep sleep. It's technically lunchtime already” Seonghwa said and I chuckled. “Thank you, Seonghwa,” I said and he smiled. 

“I did what I could with what was in the fridge. There was a lot of old food so I cleaned it out” he said and I nodded. “Oh. Seonghwa, that's your job now” Wooyoung said and I laughed. Wooyoung did hate to clean the fridge and after he cooked. 

We ate our food while I looked at my messages… Everyone was texting me to feel better and that they were glad I was okay. Kun still hasn’t texted me…

“Are we going back?” Wooyoung asks and I smile softly. “I can go alone, if you’d like?” I asked and he looked sad about that. “I’ll go with you” Yeosang and Seonghwa said at the same time. 

“I think it's best if I go alone… I need to talk to San and maybe see how bad it is” I said and they nodded. At the end of the day… San was my first hybrid I promised to him. I wasn’t gonna let him down now. 

“Are you gonna see Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asks and I sigh. “I… should’ve been more professional about handling Hongjoong. I got too into my head and I forgot the tell signs of a hybrid. I’m licensed in handling red code hybrids… so I feel like I owe him a try” I explained and they looked nervous for me. 

“I’ll have to talk to Kun first, however”

“You’re… okay,” he said speechless. He came up and hugged me tight… There was a time when my parents didn’t care what I did, they just made sure I had enough money to take care of myself. 

Kun was one of my friends who became like an older brother to me… he was protective and overall cared a lot about my well-being even after my breakup with Hendery. Even when my parents found out I studied writing and not business or a respectable white-collar degree. 

“I saw… your heart stops, I thought you weren’t gonna make it” he cried out and I sighed. “Well, here I am,” I said and he only tightened his grip. 

“When Doyoung said you were here yesterday I didn't believe him… and then Johnny and Taeyong confirmed and– I’m just happy you’re okay” he said and I smiled as he let me go. 

“Wooyoung was really bad. He’s never experienced a depressive episode that bad, he’d at least eat and go outside but not once did he move. He’d stare at the door constantly to see if you’d appear” he said and it broke my heart. “Yeosang’s owner was trying to bribe our shareholders to be given Yeosang but my family wouldn’t give in” he explained. 

“Thank you for trying your best even when you assumed I was dying” I said and he sighed. “Why did you take that tiger with you?” he asked and I sighed. 

“I… I didn’t tell you but Hongjoong got to me when I interviewed him. He mentioned a hybrid would do anything to survive and compared it to them” I said and he looked at me disappointed. 

“You should’ve known better. Those hybrids… has anyone told you about San?” he trailed off and I shook my head. “They said he was a code purple and his mind is scattered, can't tell time, aggressive?” I said and he nodded. 

“San… we originally had them all together when they were first here but he turned violent wanting to hurt Hongjoong. When we isolated him the next day he kept muttering to himself ‘any second now’ as if you’d pick him up. Hours after he attacked you… you came for him only hours after and he thinks that’ll happen again. No matter if we remind him three times a day he'll forget… I'm worried about how he’ll behave when he’s with you again” he said and I sighed. 

“I need to see him. '' I said and he sighed “Let us… make sure he’s okay first” he said and I nodded. “In the meantime then… what happened to Hongjoong?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“He's not going with you–” “He’s already my hybrid… I didn’t give him a chance or anything to prove him wrong. I let him get to me and in return only proved him right” I said and he scoffed. 

“Those bandages on your neck are because of him. Your hybrids suffered because of him and I still want to help him?” he asked me angrily. 

“Kun… when we were kids, you saved a hybrid and he’s still with you today but remember Sicheng with Yuta and how he was just as aggressive. Abused and neglected, his parents wanted Sicheng dead but you made a promise to Yuta and now he’s in a sanctuary in China at your family’s estate. You told me you’d help any hybrid you could and that's why you have this job… please do me this favor” I begged and he sighed. 

“You owe me” 

It was like it was almost a month ago. 

Preparing to interview him… the difference is I'm not here for business nor do I have Seonghwa’s protection. I took a deep breath and entered the red code area. It had hybrids locked behind impenetrable glass and a metal covering in front of it instead of the curtains the other hybrids had. 

I made it to his kennel when I saw his report… it had a determined sign. He was gonna be sent to a different center… in China?

I noticed the metal covering was now being lifted. They must've noticed on the cameras I was there already. He was in a corner… his tail twitching and his constraints were clearly uncomfortable. 

“Hello,” I said and his ears lifted up… he looked over his shoulder to see me. He shook his head… “You're not real” he muttered as his head faced the corner again 

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I'm here to haunt you” I joked and his ears twitched… “Why did you do that?” I asked curious if he’d answer. “I didn’t… want to kill you. I-I want… just want to be free” he said his voice only getting more vulnerable. 

“Seonghwa hates me now… I have no one, I'm alone and I'm going somewhere I don’t even recognize. I have your blood on my hands… it won’t go away” he muttered.

“I… never killed anyone. I didn’t… I wanted… I don’t know anymore. I’m sorry” he said and I could see how his back shook. Was he crying?

“Did you know… I went to your show when I was a kid” I confessed and he froze. “My parents were busy… they couldn't take care of me. So they had a hybrid take care of me. She was a bear hybrid, and they made her take me to the Circus… I had a front-row seat, I remember seeing you” I said and he now turned to look at me. His eyes are glassy and red.

“You looked like you liked to perform. I may have been naive to what they did to hybrids… but you were a part of the main show with Seonghwa” I confessed and he shook his head. “You’re not real” he kept muttering to assure himself. 

“I remember a different ringleader than the one I interviewed… he approached me and asked where my parents were. When my babysitter tried to explain, he yelled at her to be quiet. That a lowly hybrid shouldn’t talk to him that way–” he furrowed his eyebrows. He stood up and tried getting as close to the glass as the chains let him. 

“–I told him my parents were busy and she was taking care of me. He laughed and said that bear hybrids belong to the circus not taking care of kids like me–” he now sat down and looked at me confused and probably questioning if I was really here “–she cried on the drive home. The ringleader gave me a phone number and told me to tell my parents he offered a ton of money for her. I know… that she didn’t trust me. So when we came home my parents were already there… They asked if I liked the show. It's when I remember looking at her and she smiled a sad smile at me with glassy eyes…” he looked at me curious and maybe interested in what I was saying?

“I started to cry. I hugged my mom saying the ringleader yelled at me and her, demanding to see them. They were… angry to say the least, and he was fired, but that didn’t mean the place was shut down” I said sadly. 

“What happened to the hybrid?” he asked and I sighed. “She… stayed with me until I had to go to college. That night she tucked me in and she muttered a thank you. I loved her like I did my mother… but one day when I returned from college to visit her they told me she was no longer needed, and so they sent her away” I said and he nodded.

“I remember that night…  men in suits came and said they were gonna sue. The next ringleader was a co-owner of his so nothing changed… are you real?” he asked and I smiled. 

“Am I?” I asked and he sighed. 

“I’d like to believe you are… even if I'd be lying to myself. Can I ask… where's Seonghwa?” he asked and I debated on telling him. “Happy,” I said and he smiled softly. 

“I hope he is. I hope he gets adopted… he loved seeing the amazed kids when he did a trick and even the hybrids. He always would say to me, he wants to be as oblivious as them… where he doesn’t know what abuse is any more” he said as he cried again. 

“I would always tell him… that it would be impossible. He’d have to be human, it's when I learned you could buy citizenship and a species change” he said… the illegal black market in Korea was dangerous. However, the surgeries they offered were hybrids… it was nearly impossible to achieve but an even smaller percentage rate of survival… 

“It’s stupid… that was my plan and now I don’t even want it. Seonghwa spoke highly of you–” he was now lying down facing his back to me “–he got along the best with Wooyoung and he’d explain to him how you saved all three of them. I never understood what you did” he said and I sighed.

“It wasn’t until they told us… San was a part of the illegal fighting rings for hybrids. No one survived over a month and yet he was a survivor of all his life. Wooyoung abandoned and Yeosang prostituted… and now us, circus captivated tigers…” he said as his whole body shook as he cried. 

“Wooyoung he said how… you wrote about hybrid rights, but I thought it was an act” he confessed and I sighed. “What would you do if you were ever given a second chance–” “I don’t deserve it. I’ll suffer the rest of my life like I was born to,” he said and it made me freeze.  Did he really believe that?

“I’m sorry, y/n. I wish you never met me” 

I walked out and I immediately hugged Kun. 

“Does he really believe that?” I asked and he sighed. “Maybe I judged him a little harshly. Maybe I was a bit biased that he almost killed you in particular,” he said and I nodded. “Do you want to see San now?” he asked and I nodded… I was worried about how he’d react. I was led to an area where the hybrids had no privacy. They were allowed to do the danger to themselves. We stopped at a kennel… San. 

“San, you have a visitor,” Kun said and he looked up and saw me. “y/n!!” he yelled with a big grin on his face. “Hi, Sannie,” I said and he smiled… until his eyes wandered to my jaw. “I’m okay, how have you been?” I said, trying to get his attention. 

“I did that to you…” he said, confusing me. “What?” I asked. “I didn’t mean to hurt you… I love you, you're the only one who cares about me” he said as he put his head down almost in shame.

“San… this wasn't you” I explained and he looked at me confused. “Do you remember Hongjoong?” I asked and his eyes darkened “He hurt you!” he yelled now angry. 

He lost any recollection of time…

“San… who am I?” I asked him and he looked at me shocked. “What do you mean? Why would I forget you? You're… my mate” he said, unsure of himself. 

“San… please get better”

“Please stop crying,” Kun said as I cried in his office. He wasn’t sure of anything… What does he even think of me? Of Wooyoung… of Yeosang?

“You should get back home… you need rest” he said and I shook my head. “But San… what if he forgets I was here–” “He hasn’t… he’s pacing his room muttering your name. Give him time to finally think for himself,” he said and I was satisfied with that answer. 

“I… I was never meant to own hybrids, was I?” I asked and he shook his head. “You're an amazing owner… you’ve rescued them at their worst and given them a second chance. Give him time” he said and I didn’t know if I believed him. 

“How’s… Hongjoong?” I asked and he sighed. “Are you sure you want to take him with you? He needs to be tested and analyzed first… I need to see if he can go down to at least an orange” he asked and I nodded. “Can I see him before I leave?” I asked and he nodded, leading me out of his office and to Hongjoong again. 

I entered again with the button and went in front of his kennel. I waited for the metal curtain to open and he was right where I last saw him.

“You’re… back? You are real… you’re alive” he said and I smiled. “Hello, Hongjoong,” I said and he looked at me confused and… scared. 

“Improve… you're still my responsibility. So when you go down to an orange, you can live a life like Seonghwa. Or… I can pay for your freedom”

I went back home. 

I cried to Wooyoung all night. Seonghwa and Yeosang were worried but I wanted to be with Wooyoung. He has been here since the beginning. 

He… somehow convinced San to trust me and now it was gone. It felt empty with San.

“Why won’t you tell me what's got you like this?” Wooyoung asked me and I could only tighten my grip on his body. I didn’t want him to leave… 

“I made breakfast… I’m sorry Wooyoung but–” “She needs to eat, thanks hyung” 

I was suddenly lifted up to my bed. “You need to eat… then you can get dressed and see him again. That's what you need right now” he said and I couldn’t stop the tears spilling.

“Angels aren’t supposed to cry…” I heard as I saw Yeosang. “Eat, please for me,” Wooyoung asked and I listened. I didn’t know what to do…

“What happened yesterday?” he asked and I sighed as I picked at the food on the plate in front of me. “San… his memory is all over the place. He thinks he attacked me… then I reminded him it was Hongjoong and he turned angry… and he could barely tell me who I was” I confessed and they sighed.

“I also gave Hongjoong the option of living here again–” “No!” Yeosang said and I smiled. “Trust me… he doesn’t seem bad. Besides… I also gave him the option for his freedom” I said and they looked at me confused. 

“I… can get in contact with a surgeon to make him look human. I can find him an identity and give him enough for a fresh start” I said and they looked at me shocked. 

“Those surgeries are low survival–” “That's mainly because they don’t have enough money… I would have to ask a hefty favor to Taeyong but I can get in contact with a good surgeon, and pay them enough to make sure he was okay” I said and they looked at me… concerned. 

“Seonghwa, if you wanna go with him–” “No… I don't want to be human. I’d rather live here if you'd let me,” he said and I smiled. “The offer will always stand… for any of you,” I said and Yeosang and Wooyoung shook their heads. 

“We’re happy with you” 

I was back here… 

I was in front of Hongjoong’s kennel. The curtains raised up and he was pacing almost like he was waiting. “Hi, Hongjoong!” I said trying to offer a grin despite how drained I felt. 

“No offense but it looks like you haven't slept,” he said and I chuckled. “I haven’t… have you decided or need more time?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Seonghwa… is he happy?” he asked and I didn’t know. “I gave him the option to be free like I could do for you… but he declined '' I said and he smiled. “Why are you offering me so much? Thank you for helping Seonghwa… you can give him everything but why are you doing this for me?” he asked and I shrugged. 

“You deserve a chance…” I said and he shook his head. “I don’t,” he said and I tried to offer him a smile. “I could’ve killed you” he cried out. “San… he hates humans you know?” I said and he looked at me confused. 

“He… hated me. Said I only adopted him to abuse him… I admit my reason for adopting him wasn’t too great. When I first saw him I was captivated… but I learned that he couldn’t be adopted because of his past and his code. So I took my chance and did what I could… but he never did trust me. So he yelled… and he taunted me. He hurt me a little bit but he accidentally knocked over a vase I had to push him out of the way so he didn't get hurt. I… got better and went to make sure he was okay but he didn’t want me to be his owner” I explained and he looked at me painfully confused. 

“He loves you… I may have tormented you and planted lies but the way he looks at you… he really does love you” he confessed and I smiled softly. 

“Overtime… he trusted me. He made me his mate… he's important to me” I said, trying not to cry. “Is he okay?” he asked and I couldn’t answer. “Hongjoong, I gave him a second chance too. So… what do you wish for? Freedom or… live with me?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Does… Seonghwa hates me?” he asked and I knew he valued his companion a lot. “He doesn’t… I gave him the option too, you know?” I asked and he chuckled. “He chose to stay with you, I know that for sure,” he said and I smiled softly. 

“I… want to give you a second chance too, and I want to redeem myself” 

While Hongjoong was getting checked out, I was led to San. 

He was staring at me once I came to view… his tail swishing behind him. He was still so pretty… and I loved him so much. 

“You're… y/n. I hated you… then I trusted you… then I loved you” he said and I felt my eyes widen. “I hurt you… then I met, Yeosang?” he asked me and I shook my head. “Wooyoung,” I said and he nodded. “The fox… he had a pathetic crush on you,” he said, making me laugh softly. Kun was beside me… he also looked confused. 

“Yeosang… his owner abused him? He’s… friends with Wooyoung. Doberman and Fox” he said… he was concentrating on facts. “You… adopted two dogs?” he asked while looking at me and I shook my head. “Uhm… cats?” he asked and I shook my head again. “They're from the circus– Tigers!” he yelled and I smiled. “One of them… hurt you,” he said and I nodded. 

“How long… have you left us here?” he asked me with a sad tone. 

“San… I came back for you as soon as I could.” I said and he nodded. “What happened to you? Why do you have those big bandages on your face?” he asked and I slid. “I was in a coma for a long time,” I said and he let out a breathy sigh. 

“Hongjoong’s claws cut a bit too deep into my skin… so I have bandages on. I woke up the day before yesterday” I explained and he nodded. “I trust you… I know you're my mate and I know I love you my head just hurts” he explained and I nodded. He was gonna be like this for a while… 

“But I… just wanna go with you. Please don’t leave me here again”

“San!” Wooyoung yelled as he tackled the panther who tensed up. “This is Wooyoung… the fox you met,” I said as I pulled Wooyoung away from him. San nodded and I could see their confused faces of what was happening.

“He’s mated to you too,” San muttered as he pulled me to him.

“Do you not remember us?” Wooyoung asks and San shakes his head. “Dissociative amnesia is what they're calling it… in his case it's because of an event that causes his brain to go into shock. Kun says in his case he should be able to regain memory with everyday activities but… we should also be prepared if he doesn’t” I said and I could see the worry on Wooyoung and Yeosang’s faces as well as the guilt in Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

“I hope we can get along” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[azurefanfics]

Incoming call from Lover Boy <3

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: A late night call from your lover Wonwoo after successfully wrapping up his second Tokyo concert.

Note: To celebrate Nana Tour coming to an end I decided to FINALLY write the fic idea I’ve had since episode 1. Please forgive my rusting writing skills - it’s the first fic I’ve actually written in years!

“Incoming call from Lover Boy <3”

The familiar nickname flashed up on your screen, causing you to pause in your reading, smiling slightly at the phone. It was just a joke at first - changing your boyfriend’s nickname in your phone to see how he would react, but the sheepish pink blush that painted his cheeks whenever he caught a glimpse of it drove you to keep it that way ever since.

Your phone continued to buzz angrily, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What’s up?” you questioned, picking up the phone right away. It wasn’t unusual for Wonwoo to call you when he was away, but you knew he’d just wrapped up a concert that night and usually he’d prefer to either celebrate with the boys or just sleep, especially this late.

“Sorry baby, were you asleep?” a familiar face came into view, picking up on the slightly sleepy tone of your voice and voicing out his concerns.

“No, I was just finishing up this chapter, don’t worry. Is everything ok? What happened to drinking with the guys?” you asked, turning your camera on in turn.

“I had a drink already, but I thought I’d turn in early or else I’d be up all night with those idiots. We do fly out at 6 am after all.” The rosy flush that dusted over his features revealed the truth in his statement, as he shook his head fondly at the questionable sleeping habits of his members. “Besides I couldn’t miss out on speaking with you, it’s the highlight of my day.”

This made you smile a little to yourself. Although you’ve never doubted your boyfriend’s love for you, it still felt good to hear that your presence lights up his day in the same way his does to yours.

As you continued chatting about anything and everything - mostly the boys’ antics during the concert - Wonwoo began to remove the remnants of his stage makeup and get ready for bed. You did the same, basking in the moment of shared domesticity despite the ocean between you both. Despite all of the moments you’ve shared together, perhaps watching him sleepily rub his eyes with makeup remover is the most romantic of them all.

Before long, Wonwoo was done cleaning his face and headed back into the hotel bedroom as the two of you chatted. The lights went out with a click and you heard faint shuffling noises as Wonwoo struggled with his clothes. Eventually, he turned on the bedside lamp to reveal himself lying down, shirtless with his glasses on and his head on the pillow.

“You should take your glasses off hun, that’s got to be uncomfortable”, you chastised him, “and that can’t be good for the frames either”.

“No, I want to see you properly”, came the petulant response, “I won’t be able to actually hold you until tomorrow so this is the best I can get”.

“I can’t wait until you’re home.” you sighed. Although it had only been a few days, the pandemic and the fact that you were able to go with them on the last tour meant that times where you’d been away from Wonwoo were few and far between. Although the two of you had been very lucky in that regard, it did make time apart more of a struggle.

“Me neither, it’s not the same sleeping in these hotel rooms without you…”, he sighed. “I’ll be home tomorrow though! Do you have any plans? I know you’re working but maybe we could have a night in? We can watch a movie and order food? Oh! We should try out that new pizza place near ours, you know, the one Mingyu was talking about?”

“Oh yes! He made it sound so good - I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while! We should get extra and then we can have some leftovers for breakfast the next day!”

“…Babe… What are you talking about…. Pizza isn’t breakfast, you monster.” he deadpanned. At this, your cheeks puffed out a little in frustration.

“Breakfast can be whatever you want it to be! You can’t convince me that you had a healthy breakfast every day when you were living with Mingyu!”

As you continued to bicker back and forth about the validity of various breakfast(?) foods, you took a second to admire your breathtaking boyfriend. Even with his face smooshed into the pillow and his glasses askew, his handsome features and plush lips pulled into a subtle smile never failed to make you swoon.

Eventually the conversation turned to your days, catching up on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Although yours was quite uneventful - “just my manager being an idiot, as always” - Wonwoo was full of stories of shopping with the boys earlier that day.

“And then Hoshi just ran away with Coups’ crutches! He was just sat there on the floor pouting!”

As you giggled at his latest story, Wonwoo couldn’t help but join in as well. Your laughter never failed to give him the deepest joy - he would share stories until his throat ran dry, just to see you smile. He’d even endure the endless teasing from his members to buy magazines with his own face on to bring back to you. He didn’t understand why you needed them when you had the real thing - “They’re good to make collages out of, ok? Don’t judge me!” - but he’d dutifully bring them home to you to catch a glimpse of that bashful blush and shy smile of yours.

As your giggles died down, a wave of exhaustion washed over you and you couldn’t hold back your yawn. Despite doing your best to stifle it off camera, your ever attentive boyfriend still caught on.

“Are you tired baby? Sorry for keeping you up, we can always catch up tomorrow instead”, he said apologetically.

“No, no, if anyone should be tired it’s you. You’re the one that just finished a whole concert! Besides, I like hearing you talk. Tell me more about your day”.

At your gentle prompting, Wonwoo launched into another story about Dino’s latest antics. Despite his animated retelling of the members bullying their maknae, you felt calmed by his voice and felt yourself slowly being lulled to sleep. As your eyes drooped further, a gentle “sleep well baby” was the last thing you heard before your eyes shut completely.

—

The next morning you wake up to a text received at 4 am:

‘Sorry honey, we’ll have to take a rain check on our plans today. I’ve been kidnapped’

‘We’re going to Italy. I’ll bring you back some limoncello to make it up to you x’

You wracked your sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of his message before you remembered - Youth Over Flowers! You felt a slight twinge in your chest at having to cancel your date night, but that was quickly overtaken by excitement for your boyfriend, whom you know has never been to Italy before. You had considered visiting together in the past, but you’d never been able to make it work with your boyfriend’s packed schedule. Your boyfriend had rarely been able to go abroad for leisure at all in the past, let alone with almost all his members. The fact that Na PD somehow managed to surprise the boys, despite them losing all hope of the trip actually happening, just made it that much more sweet.

As you set to work looking up restaurant recommendations in Italy to make sure that your boyfriend was able to enjoy his trip to the fullest, a knock sounded on your door. Jumping out of bed and pulling on a dressing gown, you quickly made your way to the door.

“Pizza for Y/N?” It was the pizza place you’ve been wanting to try.

“I don’t think I ordered this? Do you have the wrong place?” you responded, bewildered.

“It was ordered to this address under the name of Jeon Wonwoo. There was a note left on the receipt.” At that your heart swelled, and you accepted the box gratefully from the delivery driver.

As you settled down at the kitchen table with the still hot box, you unfolded the receipt and took in the message your lover left for you.

“Sorry I can’t be there today baby. Please take this as my peace offering while I’m off expanding my pizza horizons in Italy. I hope you have a good day at work, can’t wait to see you soon! 10 days can’t go by fast enough. Please wait for me a little longer love <3”

You smiled softly at the thought of him, bleary eyed, having to pack all of his belongings in a rush, but still taking the time to think of you.

You took a bite of the piping hot pizza covered in your favourite toppings - delicious. Who ever said pizza wasn’t a breakfast food anyway?

[starkwlkr]

fever dream | sebastian vettel

part 2 part 3

warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!

AN: THIS SAYS THAT SEB AND THE READER WERE TEAM MATES FOR 2014 AND 2015 THATS A MISTAKE SORRY I ONLY MEANT TO PUT 2014 😭

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yourusername a short trip back home 🤍

lewishamilton enjoy it!

yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍

lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more

yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home

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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”

but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.

“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.

“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.

“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.

“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”

“alison!”

the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.

“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.

“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”

“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.

“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.

“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.

“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”

or a mother.

only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.

you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.

“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”

you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.

“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.

“hello?”

[hellcatsrtt]

“A break”

With a relationship, comes hardships to overcome.

¡!s.gojo x gn!reader

¡notes! wrote this whilst on the plane, pls no judge ;-;

“WELL I DIDN’T THINK SPENDING TIME WITH MY FRIEND WOULD MAKE YOU SO MAD BABY, FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Satoru ran his fingers through his hair as he yelled at you. His anger, clearly rising the more he spoke.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT SATORU, I LITERALLY ASKED YOU TO MAKE DINNER AND YOU COMPLETELY IGNORED ME TO GO TO SUGURU’S HOUSE!” You stood up from the couch yelling back, just as loud, eyes gradually filling with water, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Oh my god give me a break.” He stuffed his hands in his face, instantly regretting the words that just came out of his mouth. Sighing loudly, he manspreaded his long legs across his side of the XL L-shaped couch. Before standing up to approach you.

“Baby, I didn’t mean that.” He gently grabbed your chin, tilting it so he could look into your eyes. His regret hitting even harder as he noticed your tears. Falling from your eyes, making you look beuatiful, but that did not matter because you were crying from his wrong doings.

You looked at him, unsure of how to respond. You felt hurt. Hurt not just because of what he had just said. But because you were letting all his actions from the past two weeks,sink in and hit you hard. With all its strength.

You turned your head to the side, unleashing yourself from Satoru’s hold. Sniffling softly as more tears began cascading down your cheeks.

“No, gojo. Maybe you’re right. I’ll give you a break.” You turned to look at him, weakly smiling as he looked at you. Immense guilt and horror leaking from him.

“Baby, baby no what do you mean? I- I was just heated. I didn’t mean anything i said.” He ran to hold you by both your wrists, crouching down so he was fully, face to face with you.

“It’s not what you’ve said, you know, it’s what you’ve done too.” You whispered, trying to release yourself from his grip.

“Is it because I was with Suguru? I- you want me to stop talking to him? I don’t care,I’ll do it. It’s you, it’s only you that I want.” He was now fully kneeling down on the floor, sobbing harshly as his arms travelled all around your body, his body falling limp onto your legs.

“I’m going to Shoko’s tonight.” You finally managed to get off his tight grip, walking towards the door to the apartment.

“No- Baby, please.” He sobbed chasing after you at the door. Ready to put his shoes on and follow you, wherever you went.

“Satoru Gojo.” You turned to face him again, eyes meeting his. Seeing them bloodshot and filled with tears made you feel bad. But right now, he should be the one feeling bad not you. “Leave me alone, just for tonight. I said I’m going to Shoko’s, so I’m going there. You won’t change my mind about that. I’ll come back when- when I think is best. Please Satoru, leave me alone, for me.”

He looked into your eyes, desperate for the words I’m joking, lets go to bed to come out of your mouth. But they didn’t, he watched your body slip out of the black door. His vision turning blurry, breathe quickening and soon enough, he couldn’t take it.

“FUCK!” He shouted, punching the wall beside him, causing a large dent to be imprented on it. Turning to the glass vase beside him, he smashed it right on the floor. Then proceeded to walk straight through it. He didn’t care. He did not care, because you were not with him.

-

Eventually, Satoru fell asleep at around 6 am in your shared bed. On your side of the bed, stuffing his face in your pillow to smell the scent of your shampoo and conditioner which rubbed off onto it. He regretted it. So bad. For ever being mean to you. For shouting at you.

After the small incident that had occurred after you left. He called housekeeping to clean his mess, before grabbing his coat to follow you.

And follow you, did he do.

He watched you as you quietly cried, walking down the secluded streets which had been lit up by the dim yellow streetlights and the few shops that were still open at this time.

He watched you as you stopped walking. Turning to face a store. A korean fried chicken store. The korean fried chicken store you guys always ate from on every anniversary.

He watched as more tears fell from your face, and you turned, walking- no probably running at this point, to get to Shoko’s.

He watched you take your phone out, and fortunately from his six eyes, he could see what you were doing.

He watched as you scroll through your camera roll, admiring the pictures you had with him.

He watches as you enter the apartment complex and walk to Shoko’s door. Yet again, thankfully for his six eyes, he knows you safely went into Shoko’s house. But then again, he alao watched you crumble in her arms as you cried. Because of him.

The next morning, he waited for you. Dark circles slowly forming under his eyes. He leaned against the cold marble counter. His body lacking the usual strong and confident aura, rather radiating a mournful energy.

He didn’t move from that spot for 7 hours.

Morning became evening and he still didn’t see you enter the apartment which you two called ‘home’ . He was growing worried and debated wether or not to go to Shoko’s house where he knew you were, but he knew that doing so would probably anger you, since if you were gone for this long already. You most likely needed the time.

So he confided into calling Suguru to ask if he’d heard from either the two of you.

“Nah sorry I haven’t, want me to call them?” He asked, wanting to help his best friend who sounded very much stressed.

“Please.” Satoru responded barely above a whisper.

“I’m going to come over. Be there in 15’.”

He laid his head down on his arms, staring blankly at the large windows. Remembering how you would always gasp at the views every night even though you saw them, everyday.

Soon enough, a knock ringed around the apartment entry hallway.

Satoru walked up to open the door, assuming it was Suguru. But infact, it was not Suguru.

It was you.

Back hunched, hair messy, clothes smelly, teeth unbrushed. He stared at you, unmoving for a few seconds before capturing you in his arms.

Holding you so strongly, to the point you thought you would burst. He showered you with numbers of compliments and apologies. His cerulean eyes gleeming as they met yours.

He didn’t care if you wouldn’t accept his apology yet, all he cared was that you were with him.

After a couple minutes of taking in his affirmation, you both walked to the living room, sitting on the couch. Satoru getting as close as possible to you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking at your hands which were unterlocked with Satoru’s larger ones.

“No- no you shouldn’t be sorry, i’m the one at fault, im the one to blame-“

Before he could say anymore, you captyred hus lips, giving him a kiss which was not the usual sensualones you would give each other, but rather gave the message across of it’s okay, I forgive you.

After the kiss ended. You both ended up laying on the couch, your head laying on hus broad chest as you heard his hesrt beat softly accompanying his comforting breathing. Letting you know that he’s here, with you.

The same goes for Satoru, he has his arm tracing you from your upper thigh, to your lower back, all the way to your neck.

It stayed silent like that as you enjoyed eachothers reassuring presence. Eventually, both of you slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of eachother…

[xfiddlin-fishsticsx]

Robin woke up slowly, he blinked through the green and opened his eyes to a warmly lit room, as he looked around he realized it was a library, and from the little couch he was asleep on it seemed endless. He got up off the couch and stretched, aiming to explore further, when he was hit with a sharp pain between his eyes, he vision went blurry and dark for a moment before it cleared up and he suddenly remembered where he was.

This was his library, his lair. He had died and now he lived here, he knew he had died so why did it feel so wrong? He began to walk around, eventually finding the door that led to his personal area, the rest of the library was public.

He looked in the mirror he had in the room and usually it was nice to see the Robin suit, clean and undamaged, but now it just felt…off, wrong somehow, like he wasn’t supposed to be wearing it.

He heard a door open and shut somewhere and soft, clicky footsteps that made him feel fuzzy and his head swim with familiarity. He cautiously slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him and walking back through the shelves until he saw him and froze.

Standing in front of him was a tall young man, he had soft features and kind, tired, eyes that seemed to glow softly. His hair was a celestial white and he was dressed like royalty. Maybe he was royalty. Robin felt another burst of pain as he tried to remember who this was.

When his vision refocused the man was closer, and looking at him like there was something very sad happening, Robin wasn’t sure why he was so sad but he wanted him to stop. There wasn't anything sad here.

“Jason.” The man spoke softly, he had a nice voice, smooth and sad. Why did that name make his head hurt again? Was that his name? Robin figured it was.

The man walked closer to him, and the logical part of Robin’s brain was telling him not to let the unknown man get any closer, however the rest of him was buzzing with warmth and safety. He knew he knew this man, he just couldn’t remember why, he felt familiar in a way that said he wasn’t someone Robin knew in life, but someone he knew in death.

The man stopped in front of him and kneeled down, cupping Robin’s face with his pretty hands, his rings felt cool againt his cheeks and Robin felt safer than he had in probably a long time. It was nice. He liked this man.

But he was looking at him all sad again and he didn’t like that.

“Jason, you’re not supposed to be here”

Robin pulled back slightly, of course he was meant to be here! It was his lair.

“This is my lair, where else am I supposed to be? Who even are you?”

The man smiled softly and moved his hands to robins shoulders, “I know this is your lair, but you’re not supposed to be here right now, you’ve still got a while before you’re supposed to be back here again, you have to go back Jay. They need you.”

Robin didn’t understand, he was dead, he couldn’t ‘go back’

“Please Jace, don’t you see how this is wrong, you’re not Robin anymore, you haven’t been for a while now, this isn't right. They’ve done something to you and I’m sorry I can’t do much more than try to remind you but your family needs help, as much as I miss you, you have to go.”

Rob— Jason felt himself drifting, to where he didn’t know but it was probably wherever the man was telling him to go, he didn’t want to, it was nice here, and he wanted to see the man again, would he get to see him again?

“I promise I’ll come check on you soon, but right now I need you to let go Jason, you’ll see me soon and your lair will always be here waiting for you. Now please, go. I love you, I’ll see you on the other side ok?”

Jason nodded slightly and the man kissed his forehead as everything faded back to black.

——————————

Jason woke up in pain, his head was pounding and his vision was blurry, he couldn’t hear anything but he knew he was mad, he was always mad though wasn't he? The pain finally subsided and his vision began to clear. Something felt wrong, so very wrong, his head was swimming and his body was on fire, itchy, it felt like he was being held under water.

As he got more awareness back he realized his body was moving without him, as his brain slowly caught up he realized he was likely being mind controlled, or possibly possessed? Whatever it was was an invasion of privacy and Red Hood wanted the feeling gone.

So he pulled from the only constant in his life, the rage. The anger that sat deep in his chest and ate away at him but by bit everyday, he pushed and fought against the force holding him down but it wasn’t enough, he let the green take over to try and push the unknown control out of his mind and body, but he only succeeded when his mid suddenly cleared to the image, the memory of a pretty boy with sad, bright, neon green eyes looking up at him.

He burst through the control and finally felt like he could breathe again, his vision was still green and slowly going dark.

He was prepapred to be consumed, to go on a rampage no less damaging than when someone else was in control.

But nothing came, he just froze, his vision stayed green but his body stopped, he felt himself collapse to ground and began to recognize the pain blooming in his limbs and chest.

Everything felt fuzzy and numb until a hand rested on his shoulder.

He followed the hand up an arm to— B, Batman. His dad.

His vision was slipping and his head still pounded, he tried to tell Bruce that he was going to pass out but nothing was coming out of his mouth intelligibly.

Jason felt himself lose control of his body and lurch forward, Bruce’s arms came around him before he could hit the floor and the last thing Jason knew before he fully blacked out was that he was safe. His dad had him.

———————————

Just a little snippet/wip of something I’ve been working on! This is just the first little half of the first chapter!!