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ahgasegotarmy116 · 23 hours ago

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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 1

Summary: When your very curious robot boyfriend finds all of your old sex toys. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Smut but that goes without saying for this fic p.s. I put out a mini drabble as well right before this in case you didn't catch it hehe p.p.s I have another temperature play drabble request so keep an eye out for that one in the future 🤭 Requested by an anon 💜

"What are these?" Jungkook asks when he walks into the living room where I'm sat down watching Hidden Love for the fifth time, holding up my little black box that I had hidden away and had completely forgotten about.

"NOTHING!" I say hurriedly, scrambling to get off the couch and tripping over the blanket I was using in the process. I regain my footing, run up to him and reach for the box but he holds it over my head, completely out of my reach.

"Are you cheating on me?" he teases, the objects in the box being ones I used before I got him. "You seriously think I would use those anymore? Now give it here!" I jump but once my fingers just barely touch it he grabs onto my hips to keep me from trying again.

I glare, waiting for him to give them back and when all I'm given is a stupid smug smile I resort to threats. "Give that to me or I will turn you off and make you charge on the floor instead of in bed with me" his eyes widen, not expecting that and deciding to do as I say, handing me the box of various sex toys that could never truly satisfy me.

"Why do you have so many?" he asks, picking up one very elaborate and confusing looking one that I snatch out of his hand immediately and put back in the box, shoving it in the back of my closet.

"Because none of them did everything I wanted them to" I sigh and close the door in hopes to help change the subject. When I try to walk past him though he stops me by wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back to stand in front of him.

"I don't know why I asked since I know how needy my baby is" he says, his voice dropping a bit while he places kisses on my neck, knowing that'll help take the edge off.

"Why do you always have to go through my t-things?" I stutter, my resolve of trying to stay upset with him faltering. "Because I wanna know everything about you baby, and that includes all of your dirty little secrets" he says directly into my ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right below.

I shudder at the thought of letting him in that much and I know I will eventually but his want to figure out as many ways as he can to please me on his own is way too fun to experience, no matter how embarrassing it might seem.

"You like that huh? The thought of me knowing everything about you, all your deepest darkest desires that you haven't even dared to say out loud. My baby likes to hide that away huh? Too afraid to even tell me what she wants sometimes. That's pretty selfish don't you think?" he says, his grip on my waist tightening when he pulls me closer, his sensors picking up on my arousal and in turn hardening his length for me to use as I see fit.

"Why don't you let me use some of those on you tonight hm? Or better yet, let me watch you use them to get yourself off. I bet you'd look adorable, so frustrated and begging for release but never quite getting exactly what you wanted" he says but I shake my head.

"Too cold, want you" his presence tonight being one that drove me into submission so easily. I can't help but become putty in his hands sometimes. He was made for me and knows exactly what I like so why not give into what his programing is telling him to do to me.

"Aw, too cold for you? Needed me to warm you up?" he says, his condescending way of talking to me one of the easiest ways to tip me into that submissive headspace, only with him though. With him things are different. With him I know I'm safe.

I nod my head and my lip juts out the slightest bit leaving him running his thumb along it before I decide to open my mouth and run my tongue across it. His robotic pupils dilate as if they were human and the next second I'm on my back on my bed, him hovering over me with that sexy smug look on his face.

"Does my pretty baby want something?" he asks, caressing my cheek with a featherlight touch, and I blink up at him, still reeling from his sudden actions. He hums as a way to get my attention on him again, wanting me to answer his question.

"Want you" I say, hoping he'll accept my simple answer but I know he won't settle for that. "You've gotta be a little more specific love" he teases making me huff. "Oh come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want hm?" he mumbles and peppers kisses all along my neck and collarbone, having worn just a tank top and shorts today.

His hands heat up and run along my skin, warming me up just like he said he would but suddenly his hands turn ice cold, making me push him away but as always he doesn't budge at all.

"What the matter love?" he taunts, his hands quickly going back to a normal temperature. "Don't do that" I scowl, not liking the sudden change. "Lemme play around a bit yeah? Wanna try something" he says, clearly ignoring my scolding.

I squint my eyes at him when he looks down at me, a stupidly tempting look on his face. "Just trust me" he says, leaning down to mumble it against my lips, just barely kissing me before pulling back and looking at me again for confirmation.

After thinking for a couple more seconds I nod my head and he tongues his cheek, a habit that he picked up from who knows where but something that's become so sexy to me and he knows it.

He helps me strip out of my clothes and lets out a groan in approval, running his fingers through my folds.

"Baby is so wet for me already and I've barely done anything. How adorable. Been waiting all day for me to touch you huh?" he says, watching as my mouth falls open when he applies pressure on my clit just how I like it, tracing circles around it and alternating with just barely dipping a finger into my entrance, never giving me what I really want, playing with me just like he said he would.

When his fingers start to touch me with more precision, one finger pumping inside of me while his thumb circles my clit I feel that same chill run though my body and I realize his hands have gone cold inside me making me yelp and back away from him but he growls and uses his other hand to grip my hip pinning me down on the bed to keep me from moving.

"Stay still for me love, promise it'll feel good" he says and I decide to trust him. He knows what my body wants and what it can handle, the signs to look out for to know what's going on in my head.

"So good for me" he says, kissing me and starting to pump his fingers in and out of me again, adding a second one right away but switching the temperature back to a warmer one to help with the stretch.

Once he starts to feel that I've gotten used to the intrusion he changes the temperature just cold enough so I can feel it, my back arching as the only way I can move about since he's still got my hips pinned against the mattress.

"Shh I know I know. You can take it though, it's just a little cold love" he coaches, his cold fingers dragging along my warm walls making me wince. "This is w-why I stopped using them, t-too cold" I admit although I already had before, hoping that in some way that would make him stop but he doesn't.

"You know I'll take care of you though" he says, the temperature of his fingers changing back to normal now, giving me a bit of a breather but soon he's pulling them out of me making me wince for another reason.

"Where are you going?" I whine but he only laughs and gets off the bed to take off his clothes before crawling back on top of me. "My baby is so impatient, aren't you?" he chuckles, settling between my legs and dragging his tip along my folds, his brows furrowed in concentration while collecting my slick and rubbing it all over his cock.

"Just put it in already, please" I basically cry out, the temperature play leaving me incredible sensitive and he knows it, not letting up with this sick form of torture. He places his tip against my entrance, not pushing in and just teasing my hole and when I open my mouth to protest he shoves himself into me, knocking the wind out of me, his response a hum, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions.

"Couldn't even wait for me to fuck you like I wanted to, needed my cock in you so bad that you couldn't even shut up and wait. Thought you wanted to be good for me tonight" he grunts, slamming into me at a relentless pace, his robotic strength being unparalleled in bed. I sob, the intensity and the need to catch my breath overwhelming me in the best way possible but when he chances the temperature of his dick I'm screaming for him to change it back.

"Stop running" he growls, grabbing my hips and sitting back on his heels so he can fuck me onto him, pushing and pulling my hips so fast making my breasts bounce up and down. "Fuck play with your tits. Wanna ruin you but my baby can lend me a hand or two can't she?" he says, talking down to me like I'm fucking stupid when I clearly am, cock drunk and barely able to see straight.

I slowly bring my hands up my torso, ghosting my fingers along my breasts, "S-shit" he stutters, his programing really playing the part and making me moan at his reaction. "Play with your nipples baby, get them nice and hard for me" he says, his hands dragging my hips back and forth making his length disappear inside of me over and over, never ceasing making my cock drunk mind go blurry, my reaction speed severely diminished.

He decides to give me a breather, stopping his movements and putting his fingers in my mouth, my lips closing around them right away. "Make a mess baby" he say, encouraging me to get them as wet as possible, my tongue swirling around them, a pool of saliva now gathered and making a complete mess, exactly how he wanted.

He takes them out of my mouth and my brows furrow, not wanting to stop since the approving gaze he gave me while I did it being something I didn't want to give up just yet. He chuckles and rubs his fingers together, making sure his thumb, pointer and middle finger are covered before using them to play with my nipple making me whine at the harsh pressure.

"Shh it's okay, I got you" he coaches, the cold temperature making my nipples harden painfully, goosebumps now present all over my body.

"My baby gets so cold so easily. Want me to warm you up again?" he taunts and I nod my head, the rate of his thrusts though making it difficult to decipher but he knows and so he switches to a warmer temperature making me sigh in delight. It quickly goes from too cold to way too warm making me moan in delight, the scorching temperature being painfully pleasurable.

"Don't worry baby, it's not gonna leave a mark, I wouldn't hurt my pretty girl. Unless she wanted me to" he says, the offer enticing enough to make me think twice but I shake my head 'no' and he take it. "Baby doesn't wanna be branded? That's okay, I'll take good care of you" he coos and that he does.

Over and over and over.

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keikikait · 1 day ago

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ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 4.4k

summary: rafe gives you an ultimatum, and in the setting sun, you see another

warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, kook!reader & kook!rafe, suggestive but no outright smut, ultimatums, jj is alive, arguing, not proofread

a note: i'm sorry this is late!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Were you being punished by your love for him?

You tried to move on, you really did. You tried everything you could think of, bar from ignoring Rafe all together. You had even joined a dating app, where you met a fellow Kook named Alexander, and you went on a few dates with him. He was a great guy, handsome, smart, and charming, but he wasn’t Rafe. Alexander didn’t draw your attention away from your best friend that you were hopelessly still in love with, even after trying to gaslight yourself into believing that you had a crush on him.

You kept Alexander around for a while. He was a fun guy, he paid for your little lunch or coffee shop dates, and he was a good fuck. You had lied and told him that you just weren’t a very vocal girl in bed, but in reality you were biting your tongue to keep from moaning Rafe’s name into his ear. It had been a few weeks, and even after everything, Rafe was still the only person you thought of when you slipped your hands under your panties at night. You eventually started to feel bad about leading him on and tried to break things off amicably. He didn’t take it well, but you didn’t expect him to.

You had tried to distract yourself, going to party after party and club after club, making out with whatever guy you could get your hands on. But nothing worked. You couldn’t stop thinking about your Kook prince, the most feared man on Kildare that had a soft spot in his heart for you.

You had almost hoped that Rafe would’ve ditched you, would’ve kicked you to the side like a dog. At least it would be easier to move on that way, and you wouldn’t be stuck under his thumb, thinking about the ways you could get out of the hold he has on you. He still wanted to see you and be around you, constantly calling and texting like it was normal, like you hadn’t professed your undying love to him only three weeks ago. You felt like a two-headed monster. One head was his best friend, one head was deeply in love with him.

You know he’s fine, but what about you? What do you do?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Even after everything, you still have to show up for your Friday night tradition; sitting on Rafe’s sofa, tucked under his arm, watching a shitty 80s zombie movies while eating a Costco pizza. You shouldn’t have agreed, knowing it would only make things harder, but you would do anything for him. Your poor heart would always surrender to him.

Maybe this time he would start falling for you, too.

You pull into the driveway of his new house, grabbing the pizza from the backseat before heading up to the front door, balancing the giant box with one hand as you knock.

The door swings open a second later, with Rafe standing in the doorway, grinning at the sight of the pizza box in your hands. He steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. “You’ve arrived with the goods, I see.”

You swallow hard. He looks so fucking good, wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of dark green sweatpants. You hug him with one arm, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling deep. Your eyebrows furrow slightly and your free hand clenches around your keys. He smells different. Sweeter. Almost like candy.

Sofia must’ve been here earlier.

You pull away, carrying the pizza box into his living room. “Yup. I got you extra cheese, too.”

He follows behind you, shutting the door behind the two of you. His arm wraps around your shoulder when you reach the sofa, pulling you in tight to his side. “Extra cheese for my girl.” he teases, taking the box from you to set on the coffee table. You’re on the edge while he’s so goddamn polite and composed.

You tense up slightly as you settle into his sofa, grabbing the remote. You turn the TV on, trying to distract yourself from the empty feeling building up inside of you and gnawing at your guts. “Which movie are we watching tonight?”

“Mm…” He stretches out on the sofa, his legs tangling with yours as he looks over your shoulder at the TV. His body is pressed up against yours, and as usual, his proximity starts to stir up feelings deep inside of you. Feelings you thought you had managed to repress. “How about Romero?”

Your eyebrows furrow again. This man was going to give you wrinkles. “I thought we were watching zombie movies. Not ones about a Salvadoran archbishop.”

“No, not Romero like the actual archbishop, I mean like--” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “The man who invented the zombie film genre, dumbass. Do you need me to find a new best friend or something? Because you’re starting to get a little too idiotic for me.”

What the fuck? “Excuse me?”

He snorts, watching you get defensive. “Come on, it was a joke,” he says, nudging you with his knee. “Lighten up, I’m just teasing.”

“It wasn’t funny.” You say.

It’s then that he notices the way your shoulders are tense. Your jaw is clenched, and your eyes focus on the screen in front of the two of you with a bit too much intent. You’re upset. He can feel the agitation radiating off of you, and he hates it. He’s too used to his best friend being comfortable with him, happy around him. He lets out a breath, sitting up straight. “Don’t be like that,” he mutters. “Relax.”

“You don’t get to call me a dumbass, Rafe.” You say, your tone sharp.

Rafe stares at you, his irritation rising bit by bit. He takes in your expression, your sharp tone, the agitation that was practically coming off of you in waves. This was new territory for him. You weren’t just being cold, you were pissed. He’d never seen you this pissed at him. He didn’t like it.

He wanted the old you back, the you he thought you were. His best friend, his confidant, not the girl who’s helplessly in love with him, not the girl who lies awake all night thinking about him. Not the girl who moans his name into her pillow as she cums, hoping one day he would fall in love with her, too. He wanted you to just move on, to give up, to completely wipe your romantic feelings for him clean. He wanted more, while leaving you with less.

“You didn't use to care about this shit,” He says. “Not until you decided you were in love with me or whatever.”

“Decided?” You ask, scoffing. “It isn’t something you just wake up and decide.”

Rafe stares at you, his gaze hard, almost like he’s trying to search for the words that he wants to say. He was never good at this, talking about his feelings. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I… I don’t know.” He mutters, staring down at the floor. “I just wish things were the way they used to be, okay? I didn’t ask for all this bullshit. I never asked you to feel this way, so why are you making things so difficult?”

“I didn’t ask for this either.” You say.

“Well, you’re the one whose in love.” He says, the words almost bitter on his tongue. “You’re the one who made things difficult. I didn’t ask you to feel this way. I didn’t tell you to go and fall in love with me. So why are you getting pissed because I’m not in love with you too?”

“I’m not pissed, Rafe,” You say, although deep down you truly are. “I knew from the very beginning that I had no chance with you. I wouldn’t love me, either.”

He falls silent, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that wasn’t true. He knows that you’re beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and funny. He knew that you should have every chance with him. But he just didn’t love you that way. “How many times do we have to go over this?” He asks, his voice soft. “I’ve never loved you like that. You’re my best friend, you know that.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” You say bitterly.

He grits his jaw, frustrated now. He hated how bitter you were when it came to this. He hated that you expected him to be in love with you back when he just didn’t see you that way. He hated that he had to keep explaining this over and over again to you, and he hated the fact that you were just sitting here, pouting like a toddler. Like a girl who was in love.

He was tired of being the bad guy in this. “Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”

“I wish I never did.” You say.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t know what to say. He just turns to look at the movie, his jaw clenched. He hated that you said that. He hated that you wished you’d never fallen for him. He didn’t want you to wish that. If you didn’t fall for him, how long would it be before you fell for someone else? Someone who wasn’t him? He didn’t want the thought of you with another guy to piss him off so much.

Rafe sighs. “Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here.”

“Do you want me to pretend you’re a good guy?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“I am the good guy,” He snaps, his eyes narrowing. What the hell? He knew he wasn’t an angel by any means, but he was a good guy. He took care of his family, protected his friends, and stayed loyal to his girlfriend. “You’re the one who fell in love with me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

You sigh, looking away. This was pointless, even more pointless than the daydreams you filled your mind with when you couldn’t sleep. “Whatever.”

He looks at you for a moment, jaw clenched, his body tense.

“You know, this whole self-pitying, 'woe is me, Rafe is the bad guy' bullshit is starting to piss me off. It’s getting annoying.” He says.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Rafe.” You say.

“Stop acting as if I’ve done something wrong. Like I’ve wronged you,” He says, exasperated. He can’t understand why you’re being like this, and it’s pissing him off even more. “I don’t like you that way. I’ve never liked you that way. Why is that such a hard concept for you to accept?”

“It isn’t,” You say, your voice starting to get thick with emotion. “I know you don’t like me, I know you aren’t attracted to me, I just… it’s just so hard for me to move on, and I don’t know why.”

Rafe is silent for a moment, watching as your face starts to crumble. He can’t help but sigh. He moves closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. Normally, it was the opposite. Normally it was you comforting him, not him trying to comfort you. “It’ll pass. You’ll get over it eventually.”

It’ll pass.

It will never pass, will it?

You sniffle, one hand reaching up to wipe the corners of your eyes. “I should go.”

He catches your wrist, tugging you back down on the sofa. “Sit down,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re not going anywhere yet. We need to talk about something.”

“About what?” You ask, not looking at him.

He lets go of your wrist, crossing his arms over his chest. “This,” He says simply, gesturing towards your face. “This…depression, sadness, self-pity bullshit. I hate seeing you the way you are right now, like you’ve just been kicked down. It’s pathetic. It’s not you.”

You don’t reply, finally looking over at him, eyes red rimmed with tears.

He stares back, his expression unchanging. You think he would’ve softened up at the sight of you, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to see you like this anymore. You’re supposed to be his best friend, the person he confides in and takes comfort in. “You’re supposed to be the person I come to when I’m upset. Not the other way around. This pity party you have going on needs to end. You’re better than that.”

You look back down at your lap, starting to pick at the skin around your thumbnails. “What do you want me to do?”

“Move on,” Rafe says, his tone harsher than he intended. “Move the fuck on. I want my best friend again, not this whiney, insecure brat. I don’t have any romantic feelings for you, and I’m tired of treating you with kid gloves because you can’t handle the truth. Get a grip and get over it. You either move on, and things go back to normal, or we stop being friends.”

You feel your stomach drop, your throat constricting, air getting caught in your windpipe. You don’t look at him, continuing to dig your fingernails into your skin. He watches you for a moment, noticing the way your chest shakes as you try to keep back the tears. He knew your habits by now, and he noticed the way your hands started to fiddle and pick. You did that when you were trying to distract yourself. You did that when you were upset, hurt.

“Stop that,” He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing your hand.

You pull your hand away and stand up, fists clenching as your chest shakes. You couldn’t break down. Not here, not in front of him. “I should go.”

Rafe reaches out, grabbing your wrist again. He stands up too, using his grip to tug you back towards him. “We need to talk about this. Sit down.”

You pull away again, taking a step back, a soft squeak tumbling out of your mouth as you start to cry.

The squeak causes his stomach to twist. His face falls. “Don’t pull away from me.” He pleads softly, his hand reaching out for you again.

You retreat again, shaking your head as more tears start to fall. Your legs shake, your hands coming up to cover your face.

He grabs your wrist again, gently pulling you into his arms. “Stop it,” he says firmly, pulling you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling frame. “Stop.”

You sob into his chest, your hands still covering your face, shoulders shaking violently as you try and take a deep breath.

He stays quiet, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly against him. His other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, playing with the roots of it as his chin rests on the top of your head. “Stop crying,” He repeats, his voice a bit gentler. “I’m not worth it.”

“Yes you are.” You mumble, wiping your tears with your fingers, palms still pressed against your face, mascara smearing across your cheeks.

“No, I’m not,” He says firmly, his breath fanning over the crown of your head. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. Not to offer comfort. No, he knew that wouldn’t work. But to just keep you where you were, firmly held against his chest. “I’m a disaster. Even after everything, after trying to change, I’m still a disaster.”

“You're not a disaster.” You say, pulling back to look at him.

He stares down at you, his expression hard to read. He has his usual, guarded look on, but the way his hand reaches up to gently wipe away one of your tears gives away the fact that he’s affected. “I am,” He repeats, his voice quiet. “And I won’t ever be the man you think I am.”

You hesitate. “I want the Rafe I’m looking at. Not the picture of you in my head.”

He lets a huff of air out through his nose, his expression softening for the briefest of moments as he looks down at you. You were so beautiful, even when you were crying and on the edge of a breakdown. But he couldn’t allow himself to get caught up in it again, like in high school. He had moved on. At least, in his mind. “You’ll never be satisfied with that. I’m no saint, and I’ll never be the romantic, fairy tale guy you want me to be.”

“I just want--” You try to correct yourself, although you meant the former. “I just wanted to be yours.”

He stiffens for a second, his gaze hardening again as he studies your face. “No,” he mutters, a tinge of something you can’t place in his voice. “You can’t be mine. I’m not yours, and I’ll never be yours. You’re not mine to keep, you’re not the one I want, you’re not the one I’m in love with.”

You sigh, your voice soft. “I know.”

He lets out a breath, the expression on his face pained. He cupped your face, wiping away some of the smeared mascara. “I don’t want to keep hurting you,” He says softly. “I don’t want to keep making you cry. I don’t want to keep disappointing you.”

“I’m hurting myself,” You say. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who just can’t move on.”

“You’re not the one at fault,” Rafe says, his thumb still wiping at the tear stains on your cheek. “I’m the one who can’t love you the way you want to be loved. And I’ll never be able to. You deserve someone who can, and I want you to find that person.”

You did find that person, the one holding your face and looking at you like you’re his saving light in eternal darkness. You had ignored so many bad omens, hoping that the universe was wrong, that they made a mistake, that your red strings of fate were intertwined in the stars.

But they weren’t.

You swallow hard. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder. To get over you.”

“Good.” He says, his thumb brushing under your eye one last time, wiping away a tear. His thumb brushes across your cheek, pressing down slightly to feel the softness of your skin. He moves his other hand to your jaw, moving his thumb side to side on your neck, feeling your pulse.

His eyes meet yours before his gaze travels over your face, soaking in every detail of you. They linger on your lips, just for a second too long, and much to his dismay, you notice it. His eyes move back up to look into yours.

Your breath hitches ever so slightly, your lips parting. Rafe purses his lips together slightly, rubbing them together, his eyes looking back down at your mouth. He mumbles your name quietly, his voice soft.

“What?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer.

His eyes are still looking at your mouth. He watches your lips move as you speak, watches how your tongue peeks out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly.

He can’t think straight. He can’t think at all. His mind has gone fuzzy, and every cell of his body is telling him something he knows he shouldn’t do.

His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in closer.

He places a kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing.

Your eye twitches, your stomach churning, your face getting hot with shame and embarrassment.

He pulls away, looking down at you. “I’m sorry, alright? Can we just… can we just chill and watch a movie?”

You should say no. You should scream at him, yell at him for manipulating you, for looking at you like that and acting like he was going to kiss you.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to hate him, even after this.

You swallow hard, blinking a few times as you look at the long forgotten pizza box on the coffee table. “Yeah. We can watch a movie.”

He feels relieved. That’s good.

He gives you a small smile, placing a hand on the small of your back and ushering you towards the sofa. He turns you towards the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down, his hand still lingering on your back, the feel of your skin under your sweater making his heart race.

His eyes linger on you for a moment, before he turns to grab the remote off of the coffee table. He sits down next to you, trying to keep a normal distance between the two of you, instead of pressing himself up against your side. He opens the pizza box as he opens Hulu, handing you a slice.

You take it, your fingers and hands numb and tingling as you try to suppress the bile in your throat.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The Outer Banks is truly paradise on Earth.

Although The Boneyard isn’t the nicest beach on the island, it has a few secluded spots that still manage to take your breath away. You find your favourite spot easily, a small sandbank by the entrance to a long-forgotten cove. It was once filled with rumours of pirates and treasures, but now it’s full of seaweed.

You settle into the sand, holding your sandals in your hands, arms draped over your knees. You watch the sunset pink and orange streaking across the sky, listening to the soft crashing of the waves and the distant call of a seagull. The wind gently pulls through your hair, and you push some behind your ears, closing your eyes as you feel the sun on your face.

It’s peaceful.

Another soft breeze brushes over you, carrying with it the scent of weed, an uncommon occurrence for this particular spot. Not a lot of other people on the island knew of your spot, mainly just Rafe and Sarah.

You turn your gaze to your left, finding a familiar figure sitting about a yard away from you.

JJ smiles, head tilted to the side, a lit joint between his fingers. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You say, smiling softly. You had always had a little soft spot for JJ, considering him to be one of the few Pogues you could actually stand, maybe other than Kiara.

JJ takes a hit of the joint, looking out over the ocean, the sun starting to descend towards the horizon. He sighs contently before turning to look at you again, raising his eyebrows as he studies you. “What’re doing out here all alone?”

“Just watching the sunset.” You say. You pat the sand next to you, inviting him to take a seat.

“Yeah? Me too,” He says, moving closer to take a seat next to you. He stretches out his legs, leaning back onto his hands and resting his head against the sand. He takes another hit from the joint, sighing out the smoke before offering it to you. “Want a hit?”

You nod, taking it between your thumb and pointer finger. You take a deep hit, sucking in the smoke and blowing it out in a thick white cloud. You hold it out towards him. “Thanks.”

He takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Anytime,” He says, leaning back. He watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. The sun is setting in front of you, casting a warm, orange glow illuminating you that catches on your hair. He can’t help but admire the way the sunset looks against your figure, casting a glowing haze around you. His gaze softens in the presence of your soft glow. “You look pretty tonight.”

You smile softly, feeling your face get warm. “Thanks, JJ. So do you.”

He smiles back, his eyes locking with yours. It’s just the two of you out here, and JJ likes it that way. Just you and him sitting alone on the beach, watching the sunset. “Just pretty?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Handsome.” You add.

He’s silent for a moment, staring back at you. He lets out a breath through his nose, trying to hide the grin on his face as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, but it’s still clear on his face. “Damn right, I am.” He mutters. The two of you just stare at each other for a minute, the quiet sounds of the ocean in front of you and the distant sound of a fish jumping, trying to catch a bug flying across the water.

You smile at him again, looking back over the water.

JJ studies your profile for a moment, taking a hit off of his joint before passing it back to you, still staring at you. His eyes linger on your eyes, before slowly dropping down to your lips. He watches you, the soft expression on your face and how your hair blows in the wind. He’s always liked the way you look when you’re relaxed. You always look pretty, but you really look beautiful when you’re relaxed, when there’s no stress or worry in your mind.

He studies your face, committing every detail to memory. He sits up straighter, placing the joint back in his mouth. He hesitates before throwing one arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. You oblige, slotting yourself against him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He smiles to himself, feeling you move closer. His arm tightens around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into your shoulder. He watches the sun over the ocean, noticing how the light dances over the rippling water. He takes the joint from his mouth once again, taking a hit. He holds it in his lungs for a second, before leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting down to your cheek. He lets out a cloud of smoke from his mouth, the smoke hovering in the air between the two of you.

You take the joint from him and take a hit before handing it back, holding it in your lungs before exhaling slowly. You look up at him, watching as he puts the joint in his mouth as he shifts in the sand. You smile softly again, admiring the way his eyes shine in the pink and orange hues of the setting sun.

Sometimes the one you want is not the one you need.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part three?

★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg, @teenwolfbitches28, @dasia21, @drewsphswife, @gilwm, @watchmerora, @odairtrqsh, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafesbabygirlx, @slumnit, @babygirlwilly, @rafeyswife, @maybanksgirl69, @evermorx89, @ivy-34, @marlenee3e, @koibleufish, @user381963, @monkey-d-juliana, @ursogorgeous1313, @drewstarkeysstuff, @ts1mp0ne, @kayreblogs, @rafeycameronsgf, @lulbabes, @karmasloverrr, @greyswaren, @tini5, @witchmoon10, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @arivh, @devils-blackrose, @goldsainz, @vonhoe, @exhaustedbutelated, @enjoymyloves, @rinasauruss, @danikasthings, @danicl25, @outlawedmando, @lucifersie, @wtfisastiles, @maybankslover (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

join my permanent obx taglist here!

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sweetshuga · 3 days ago

Text

𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✧ 𝑪𝑺 [𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!]

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

roomie!chris! Your first time with your roommate.

Contains ⚠︎ Smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, pet names, p in v (unprotected—do not), low-key breeding kink, size kink, use of vibrator (m!), handjob, hint of edging, overstimulation (m!) n’ whatnot. ⚠︎

wc. 2.6k (2654)

note. English is not my first language! [Fanfic] [Series]

"Look, we started dating just a few days ago, and–and I don’t want you to think I’m only after your body—" you silenced him with a searing kiss, swallowing any further argument. A low groan left his lips and into your mouth when you grazed the vibrator against the painfully stiff tent in his sweatpants.

Your lips trailed down his chin and along his jawline, making him take shuddering shorts breaths with each kiss. "Are you sure, ma?" The slightly breathless tone made your inner walls clench in anticipation, your clit aching almost painfully with need.

His head fell back and to the side to give you more room to work with. "Mm, I think I’m sure, wouldn’t be doing any of this otherwise," you chuckled before continuing, "but I must say, you’re really turned on right now, ain’t ya?" He hummed an agreement to your teasing, not denying it. After all, how could he? With the way he was rock hard already would’ve betrayed every lie. 𓆩♡𓆪

"Kid, I’m busy right now, what do you want?" You answered the phone, only to get laughed at. "Whatever, I’m hanging up—" "Wait, wait, c’mon, I wasn’t laughing at you— just don’t hang up please?" You bit back a chuckle and uttered a faux reluctant "alright" to which he replied with another chuckle.

"Don’t worry, I won’t take too long, ’promise," he paused for a few seconds, as if to think what to say next, "right, was just thinking of stopping by a mini-mart on my way back, y’want anything?" Humming as you tapped the armrest of your study chair, "actually, yeah, I need a black pen and um, could you get a few snacks bars?"

"Oh, okay? ’s that all? Y’sure you don’t need anything else?" Smiling to yourself as you hummed a yes, "mhm, that’s all." You could almost hear him smile, "alright then, I’ll be there in a bit." You bid him bye and hung up, stretching languidly in your chair before resuming on working on your assignments.

𓆩♡𓆪

Chris walked in and closed the door behind himself, and he froze when he finally looked at you. You were changing with your back turned to him, standing in a light peach coloured frilly set, putting on a loose t-shirt and cotton shorts. Your hair was damp – indicating that you had a shower before he arrived.

Clearing his throat as he set the bag of things on the study desk, making you turn around to look at him. "Oh you’re back," you said nonchalantly as if you weren’t in your undergarments just a few seconds ago. "Y-yeah, I’m back." Chris tried his best to hide his flustered state, but the slight stutter in his voice gave it away.

You were just about to grab a pair of socks when something caught your eyes, a bulge forming in Chris’ sweatpants. You raised your eyebrows, a small smirk painted on your face, "hm?" You hummed in amusement, taking your gaze back to his face.

Chris looked at you confused, an eyebrow raised and a small confused grin before looking down and immediately covering his boner with his hands. Looking back up at you with wide eyes and a subtle hint of blush on his face. His grin was gone, now replaced with a slack jaw; it opening and closing like a fish out of the water.

"I can explain," a lame excuse really, but you nodded anyway, "yeah, go ahead." Barely suppressing the smirk on your face from growing as you crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak. "You– you can’t expect me not to get turned on when the girl I like was just standing right in front of me in a sexy set of underwear in my favourite color." He mumbled, uncharacteristically quiet.

Your smirk widened by a fraction, amused by his words. "Oh? So it’s my fault?" He quickly shook his head, "no—yeah, I mean no, it’s not your fault... c’mon, ma, don’t tease me like this," he looked pained, like he didn’t know what to say. You burst out laughing, "you’re too cute, c’mere," you plopped on your bed, patting the space beside you.

He hesitated before sitting down beside you, still having his hands hovering over his boner in a futile attempt to hide it. You gently tugged on his wrist, "lemme help you with it." His breath hitched audibly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, "what?" He mumbled dumbly, making you repeat yourself, "lemme help you."

You coaxed his hands away from the taut fabric of his sweats, humming to yourself before you reached towards your nightstand. Opening the small drawer to retrieve a small black box—which Chris knew immediately what it was. "You... you’re not thinking of using that, are you?"

Your smirk grew, but instead of replying you simply opened the box to reveal the small black vibrator. His adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he gulped, shifting in his seat—feeling his pants grow tighter. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. He was so incredibly turned on to the point it was starting to become painful.

𓆩♡𓆪 A small wet patch formed on his sweatpants from his steadily leaking precum, the sight only fueling the need to tease him further. Putting the vibrator aside for a bit to take his sweats off, his abs clenched and unclenched when your knuckles grazed his lower abdomen. You tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, "up," you commanded, and he lifted his hips slightly.

The moment his sweatpants and boxers were pooling at his ankles, a quivering exhale left his parted lips. His hefty length stood tall and proud, leaking beads of precum from the swollen taut tip. You almost, almost, felt bad for him when you saw how hard he was, but you weren’t done teasing him yet.

Smiling to yourself as you grasped the base of his thick shaft, giving it a few good pumps, eliciting a low moan and a slight jolt from his hips. He let out a withdrawn groan when the vibrator buzzed on the sensitive head of his cock. "Mm, does that feel good?" Your teasing only seemed to make him more excited.

"Fuck—yeah, feels so good," he moaned lowly, gently grasping your hand – that’s holding the vibe over his tip – and guiding it in small slow circles. "Just like that... fuck, mmfh—" You chuckled and let him guide your hand, biting your bottom lip as you felt yourself grow wetter at the erotic scene in front of you.

Chris threw his head back, jaw clenched and one hand propping himself up behind him as he leaned back—the other one still guiding your hand. You started to move your free hand up and down his shaft, in time with the slow circles of the vibe on his leaking tip.

His jaw went slack as breathy moans left his throat – almost sounding desperate – his hips jerking as he tried to control himself from thrusting up and fucking your fist. You suppressed a smirk and started to move your hand a tad bit faster, gripping his length a tiny bit tighter.

That small difference in speed and tightness seemed enough for his sensitive dick, his hips bucked up in time with your hand as profanities and moans exited his lips. "Shit—ma, m’gonna, fuck, fuck, wait—" you stopped your movements, earning a small groan of annoyance from Chris.

"Why’d you stop?" He breathed out, eyes glazed with pleasure and lips parted slightly. Your gaze raked over him appreciatively, "what? You told me to wait?" You teased on purpose, a small smirk playing on your lips—betraying your attempt at acting coy.

Chris clicked his tongue, mumbling quietly, "I didn’t actually mean for you to stop." Instead of teasing him like you wanted to, you decided to give him what he wanted. His eyes rolled back when the vibe suddenly buzzed louder and stronger on his tip, your hand pumping him quickly.

His thighs trembled as he held your wrist, trying to stop you from moving your hand as loud cries of pleasure echoed throughout the dorm room. "Mm, be quiet, you don’t want everyone to know how much of a mess you are right now, do you?" He put his free hand over his mouth, muffling his moans as you worked him to the brink of insanity.

You chuckled when you noticed how shaky his breaths had become – how much his body was jerking and knew he was close. Turning the vibe to maximum vibrations all while pumping his shaft quickly for a few seconds more and he was already convulsing. His eyes rolling back once more as his hips bucked up with each rope of cum.

"M-ma, no more, please," he whimpered as he tried to push your hand away, already getting overstimulated. You gentled your touch and turned off the vibrator, tossing it somewhere on your bed. "Yeah, you okay?" He nodded, tossing an arm over his eyes as he lay there on your bed; his release all over his abdomen and chest heaving with ragged breaths.

"Mm, think you can go another round?" He licked his dry lips, wetting them, "I don’t know... I need some time to recover." You stood up, smirking to yourself. The sounds of quiet rustling of clothes and soft thud of it falling on the floor caught his attention, taking his arm away from his eyes as he gazed at your now near-naked state.

Propping himself on his elbows as his cock twitched with renewed desire, already growing hard from the sight of your body alone. "Insatiable," you teased with a shit-eating grin on your face as you took off your bra, letting it fall on top of the rest of your clothes. You slid your panties down teasingly until it pooled at your ankles, stepping out of them.

"Jesus..." He breathed out, his pupils dilating as his eyes raked over your body appraisingly. "You’re so fucking beautiful, have I told you that?" You felt a flutter in your stomach, smiling a bit wider as you walked forward until you were standing right in between his spread thighs. "Yeah, plenty of times, but it somehow makes me feel that way every time."

Chris suppressed a groan when you settled on his lap, teasing him – yet again – by rolling your hips, letting his length slide up and down your slick folds. His hands flew up to clutch onto your hips, his fingers digging slightly as he tried not to cum right away.

You, yourself, couldn’t handle any more of the teasing you were doing and decided to just get on with it. His breath hitched in his throat when he felt you hovering over his cock, the tip of it pushing against your entrance, but not enough to go inside.

He waited patiently for you to sink down on his length, looking up at you with pleading eyes and slightly parted lips. His lips seemed more rosy than usual, his face slightly flushed and a thin sheen of sweat adorning his skin from his earlier climax. You helped him out of his t-shirt, your hand sliding down his chest towards his lower abdomen.

His body twitched and shuddered as your hand caressed his body, every inch of skin sensitized. You slowly sank down, taking him inch by excruciating inch. Chris squeezed his eyes shut as he held himself from thrusting up and pushing himself to the hilt in one swift motion.

You let out a breathy moan, feeling his hefty cock stretch you wide. You gasped and clutched tightly onto his forearms when he finally gave in to his desires and thrust up into you. Your eyes threatened to roll back from the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips.

He smirked at the change of your power dynamics, and his hips rutted up into you almost like a jackhammer despite his oversensitized state. "Wait, Chris— too much, too—too deep," you moaned loudly, unable to control your sounds as you clung onto him for dear life, your nails digging into his forearms.

"What? Can’t handle this, ma?" He taunted, his pace not faltering one bit, instead getting faster and rougher. Just as you were about to respond to him, your world blurred and sparks flared behind your eyes when he hit a sweet spot. He chuckled breathlessly, seemingly triumphant for his discovery.

He slowed his hips and thrust up into that spot again, making you clench around him—eliciting a hiss from him. "Here?" He drew back before thrusting up into that spot again, "oh, feels good, doesn’t it?" He chuckled at the way you seemed to unravel more from his words. Your moans becoming needier and more desperate.

Your body trembled as you leaned down, clinging onto him as he kept his thrusts languid, but deep. "You’re so big," you moaned close to his ear and you could’ve sworn you heard something snap inside him. Groaning as his hands slid down your back, grasping your ass in a bruising grip and starting to thrust up into you with renewed vigor.

Your moans echoed throughout your dorm room, only to get muffled by his lips in a hungry, demanding kiss. You found yourself on the brink of something big, something that was sure to make your mind blank. His pace faltered ever so slightly as he neared his own orgasm, groaning and moaning into the crook of your neck as he kept on going.

Your mind blanked, the corners of your vision turning white as you orgasmed hard. Crying out in pure ecstasy as your pussy spasmed rhythmically around his pistoning shaft. That was enough for him to topple over the edge, spurting rope after rope of warm cum deep in your quivering pussy as he thrust up in time with the waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

You fell limp onto his heaving chest, your own chest heaving with exertion. His release trickled out around his shaft, which was still buried deep inside you, proving to have filled you to the brim. He felt a sudden sense of satisfaction knowing his spend was buried deep inside you, enough to knock you up, and that thought made him shudder in excitement.

"I think we’ll get noise complaints from the other students after this, with how loud we both were," Chris chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes and arms wrapping around you, almost protectively – bordering on possessiveness. "Mm, I don’t mind, they’ll just know exactly who made you feel so good."

A small amused laugh escaped your lips, your smile wider than before as you responded back with a playful comment about him being too much. "Too much or just enough? ’Cause I remember a certain someone unable to keep their volume down from how good I was fuckin’em— ow, what was that for?" He chuckled, feigning hurt when you pinched him.

You laughed softly, despite your attempt at being annoyed, knowing full well that you couldn’t actually stay mad at him. You stayed like that for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms and still connected. It was an intimate moment that made butterflies dance in your stomach.

A moment full of love and contentment. And that’s when you realised just how deep your feelings went for the guy laying under you, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your back, a soft adorning look in his eyes as he gazed into yours. You smiled warmly before connecting your lips together, kissing him tenderly and pouring out your love languidly against his lips.

"My pretty girl," he murmured against your lips, "mine, all mine and I’m yours, forever," and you wouldn’t want it any other way. "Mhm, forever," you echoed his word, making him smile wider. He leaned in for another kiss to seal your vows. Mine and yours forever.

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss

#chris sturniolo #roomie!chris #fanfiction #smut #chris x reader #chris x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #fanfic #fanfic smut #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sweetshugacs #𓆩♡𓆪sweetshuga

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sh1-n0bu · 3 days ago

Note

bello, not sure if your taking requests so this will be my little thirst😼

was thinking about the elf bf and how intimacy is so foreign to him! How good your touches feel on his heated skin but what was this odd feeling? The coil in his tummy getting tighter with each grind of his hips on your thigh. The feeling felt so weird.. it feels good? is this good? he doesn’t want to disappoint you, or worse, scare you away! so he stops himself, letting his hips slow their grind for a moment. Inadvertently edging himself!

id like to imagine if he touched himself he would stop before cumming as well, he doesn’t know what it is! it feels so odd, makes him feel hot all over!

After he slows his grinds, you would be a bit confused…, does he not want to cum? or does he want to wait til your inside him? it takes a bit before you even think that maybe he hasn’t gotten that far before, the idea that you get to corrupt him making your face heat. Goodness he would be so pretty, teary eyes begging for you to slow down. Hips bruised from how rough you had grabbed him!

and to think, when he finally cums? its so overwhelming. heat spreading through his body, mind numbing as his legs twitch slightly? his pretty cock leaking onto his stomach? GOOD LORD I NEED IT💥💥💥

ty for listening nobu🫶🏼 we love you pls dont die

(low key my first ask, hope you enjoyed as i dont write much)

bellooooo, me is not taking requests for now but im still open for brainrots/thirsts!!!!

good lawdddd y’all gotta stop corrupting me more, my horny level can’t keep up guys. so i haven’t read the history of middle earth and all abt the biologies and cultures of the races tolkien created but i have come across multiple posts or points of people pointing out that sex and intimacy is an extremely important and raw thing. like how a constant friction creates fire over time and how that fire spreads into a wildfire that consumes everything, that’s how it is to elves and their culture. courting is important and it could go for a very long time until they decide to officially tie the knot. yet even after getting married, the consummation won’t happen in a while, first the couple must at least intertwine their fëa (soul) and so, the consummation act is more intense and powerful. its a very draining thing, when elves fuck, they fuck. long and hard, probably all night and into the next morning and even evening perhaps. they’re immortals, they have a monster amount of stamina

so with this info in mind, u gotta realize that elves do have knowledge of sex, how it usually feels etc and how near sacred it is to their kin. love is a fragile thing that will cross their eternal life only once and when they love, boy do they love. yet something tells me that despite having knowledge of sex, masturbation and other fleshly pleasures, they don’t participate in it much. its like they barely have anything that gets them pent up or sexually frustrated until they fall in love. and if it is a mortal? oh boy, they are confused and yearning. it’s like an instant neuron activation for them

the poor elf would barely know what to do with these thoughts and imaginations of you and him in such a compromising position. images of you guiding him through your first times together, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into his sensitive, pointy ear while he shrivels with embarrassing noises on your lap. oh how those calloused, hardened hands would feel when tightly fisting at his cock, draining him dry and milking every last drop of his cum. how those long, thick fingers would feel when thrusting inside him, scissoring him open and making him squeal. good god, don’t even get him started on the dirty images he thinks of you when he looks at those arms and thighs of yours, he’s imagining himself riding that muscle until he soils his pants or how your hands would push his head down to fully swallow your cock into his throat

would it taste as how it is described in the eroticas? would your precum be salty as your thick cock head pushes past his soft lips with your soothing voice instructing him to “open wide, puppy”? would you be so mean as to fist at his gorgeous locks and fuck into his mouth, use him to your own pleasure? he would be a good puppy for that, taking whatever you had to give him with red cheeks and hands obediently held on his lap. like a good puppy, he would open his mouth, tongue out like an eager little dog waiting for the taste of his favorite snack as you stroke your dick, a low moan falling as he finally taste your load shoot into his awaiting open jaws

and when his dirty thoughts are finally granted and turned into reality? he’s a goner. scrambling on his feet, tripping over his words, mind blanking as he feels your hands grope his ass over the linen of his pants. feeling like a young ellon rather than the full grown elf he is when your hands fiddle with the buckle of your belt, gulping down the saliva in his mouth as he sees your strap spring out of your undergarment

with a shaky hand, he would grip your strap, meagerly stroking his hands up and down with a stuttered “i-is this okay…?” oh dear stars, how badly you wanted to just fuck him dumb right then and there, seeing the cute pouting lips, big eyes staring at you for an approval as he weakly asks for your preference. how fast he is to crumble when he feels your rough hand wrap around both your and his own dicks, stroking them together with a slow pace, occasionally spitting on them. his mind was already blanking, and he was sure that he had already came into your hand the moment you touched him

“w-wait a—annh!! mmh uhnng♡︎ h-hold owwnn♡︎ i ju-ust c-came! i came alreanngh already...♡︎!!” the poor elf weakly cried out, falling back into the sea of soft pillows as his hands shook by his chest, where he held them close to himself. he was sure you could hear the rapid beating of his heart, embarrassed by the noises he kept letting out despite biting down on his lips to shut himself up. poor sweetheart, doesn’t even know that the thing dripping down onto his stomach is his pre-ejaculation and not his cum! “shh shh… it’s alright, darling. i’ll be sure to teach you all about the fleshly pleasures tonight♡︎” and you were going to absolutely ruin him

sweet virgin elf who crumples into a heap of mess after experiencing his first cum. moaning and even squealing as his hands flailed around, unable to choose whether to hold onto your arms or to claw at the blanket beneath himself as you continue to keep going despite his whines of having already came. you were so mean, quickening your pace and even squeezing your dicks together, he was so sure that he blacked out when you first did that or swiped a thumb over his oozing tip. arms covering his face to hide the flush of his cheeks and the drooped ears, crying out to you that he was going to die. so dramatic

“sh-stooohpp..! stop stopstopstop—stop it♡︎♡︎! i came!! i nyaagh ungh guhc—came! i alreaawdyy camee…♥︎!” the elf cried out, already slurring his words together as his hips grind back and forth on the bed until your free hand comes up to keep it down in place with a bruising grip. your sweet boyfriend could only cry out, a broken whine falling as he shook his head, looking down at your hand that held down his hip before shifting to look at where your cocks were touching. held together in a tight fist, your hand already soiled with his cute load of precum as well as his stomach. he never noticed it before but gods, your strap was dwarfing him in size and girth. he would surely die if he takes that big thing inside himself!

but when you don’t seem to hear his pleas and only continue to fuck your strap and his weeping cock together in a faster pace into the tight grip of your fist — even rocking your hips forward too! — the poor elf was sure he was going to see the bright skies of valinor that night. whimpers turning into broken wails, punched out sobs of your name falling out of his now bloodied lips as he covers his face with his hands. he could feel the hot tears that fell from his eyes, wiping them away with cute pathetic sniffles as you tighten your fist just at the heads. another squeeze and one more before he was crying out your name in a shrill scream, his legs around your hips tightening, shaking even, as he finally feels himself cumming alongside you. translucent colored seeds mixing together, dirtying his stomach and even shooting up to his heaving chest

“…s-shoo goowdd… aaanh hhagc—♡︎ c-cum..♥︎ cumming ’gainn hhgaaa♥︎ ughk haahg [n-naawme], [namenamenamena—]♥︎♥︎” the elf sobbed out weakly, a putty in your hands as he feels his cock slowly grow flaccid. if it weren’t for the rough pads of your fingers tracing circles around his clenching rim and the feeling of your clean hand push away his hands from his face, your elf bf would have most definitely been sure that he had died and was re-embodied. yet despite the fuzziness in his brain and the way his blood seemed to circulate too quickly through his veins, his body unconsciously pressed itself against you, against your fingers as if seeking for more pleasure

thats enough thirsting yall, go do yalls assignments

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ppssession · 2 days ago

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Wonderful freedom

In a long time there used to be a group of demons that lived in the human world. They were extremely lustful demons but sadly their bodies were not attractive to them. These demons that craved hot bodies came to the human world. They often lured many humans into falling for their sweet offers. Humans who fell for their sweet offers would eventually have their bodies snatched away. These demons would then possess humans.

Legend also says that it was so greedy for male genitalia that it didn't care whose body it belonged to. Kings, royalty, knights, peasants, and many others were possessed by the demon and used for sexual purposes.

Fortunately, at one point, the world of those demons was sealed off by a group of people with special powers, and the stories of demons possessing human male bodies were gradually forgotten.

When he finished reading, Brandon closed the book. “These legends are so ridiculous, where in the world would there be demons possessing men for sexual purposes?” Brandon complained about the collection of stories he had rented from a bookstore.

The handsome young man, Brandon, put down his book and prepared to go to the library to return the boring book he had borrowed.

Shortly after Brandon returned the book, he began wandering around the large library, looking for interesting books to take home and read.

But suddenly the library became dark. Even though he wondered what was going on, he continued walking to find the book he wanted to read. He walked back and forth in the darkness where he could see things.

After a while, he found a strange-looking book. It was a black book with an eye in the middle. At first, Brandon thought it was just a fancy book with just plain paper inside.

But as he was about to walk away, his mind felt strange, as if his body was being led to open that book, his mind ordered it to be that book, he slowly walked over to touch the book, when he picked it up, he felt that something was definitely going to happen, but he still couldn't stop himself from opening the book.

When he opened it, he looked inside, there were countless unknown characters, and those characters slowly floated out, they gathered together and turned into a large smoke, as the large smoke in front of him rushed into his body, a large amount of smoke entered his body through his mouth, causing Brandon's body to twist, his muscles twitched, and his eyes rolled back.

The book cover slowly crawled into the smoke, and the strange-looking book turned into an ordinary book.

Brandon's body, which was inhaled by the strange smoke, slowly twisted his muscles and moved his neck a few times before speaking with an evil smile, "I confess, I'm free now. That stupid seal only locked me for a few hundred years. Do you think I can't wait?"

A demon that desires a human body like mine can live for hundreds of thousands of years, it wouldn't know. The demon possessing Brandon replied yes as his body rubbed against it. "Wow, it seems I hit the jackpot, this body is insane, these muscles are making me horny," a large tent formed between Brandon's legs.

But unfortunately, I don't have enough power. I'll let this guy control his body for now while I take my time to recover and devour him. Haha, after speaking, Brandon's eyes rolled back and forth, he regained control of himself, and he couldn't remember anything about the strange book. "What happened? Oh yeah, I got the book from the library. Oh, I can't remember. Never mind, let's go home."

After that, about a month passed. แบรนดอนกำลังนั่งสบายๆ อยู่ในบ้านหลังจากทำธุระมาทั้งวัน เมื่อเขารู้สึกแปลกๆ ในท้อง

“Ahh, what happened?” Brandon’s body didn’t listen to his commands, it started moving on its own without his control, his muscles tensed, his penis hardened uncontrollably.

His hands were rubbing his body, now Brandon's mind was spinning, instead of being afraid, his mind was enjoying this feeling, the feeling that something was slowly taking over him, his eyes rolled back, that was the last time the real Brandon was conscious, suddenly his eyes returned to normal.

I'm so horny

The devil has taken over Brandon's body.

Okay, I have to deal with my hard cock first. One hand unzipped my pants and pulled out my big, thick, long cock from my pants.

His thick hand lightly touched the large cock, the other hand played with the nipple that was on his shirt. The moans of a man possessed by a demon echoed throughout the room that only he could hear.

Soon, the new Brandon was chasing after the climax, the speed of his hand was increasing, the rhythm was becoming unstable. In no time, the moan of the possessed man was heard along with the semen flowing out of the tip of his cock. “Ahhhhh.”

Brandon took a weak breath, this was his first release after being sealed away. He picked up his phone and found news of a new park being built in a nearby town. “Oh yeah, that’s where another one of my friends is locked up. I should probably go help him out, since he has the same taste in body possession as me.

Then the devil took a photo of himself with his new hot body a few hours later. The new Brandon was busy masturbating all night long.

After finishing, I must say that this story will have a sequel where Brandon will release the demons that are imprisoned in various places. Let's see what kind of demon friends the new Brandon will meet. See you, bye.

#body possession #body theft #male body possession #gay possession #male transformation

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gyubakeries · 1 day ago

Text

𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | j.ww

a/n: i had a terrible nightmare, but it inspired this lmao. apologies if the plot seems weird, i just went with the flow. hope you like it! (p.s. took me just a week to write this bad boy, but trust, there's more angst on the way! itll take more time bcs im super busy but i promise im gonna deliver angst)

word count: 5k contents: dystopian au , kinda inspired by divergent too , wonwoo x afab!reader , doctor!wonwoo , reader is going to die , a little graphic at the end but for like 2 seconds , flashbacks , forbidden love , HEAVY angst , sad ending

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"756, your three hours begin now," an automated voice booms through the speakers placed in your cell, reverberating through the small metal chamber you've been kept in for as long as you can remember.

the door to your cell slides open, allowing you your last bit of freedom, last few hours of life, before it was all going to be taken away from you.

hyejun, the girl who occupied the cell next to you, comes into view, her eyes already filled with tears. the two of you had become friends of some sort over the last twenty-one years of captivity. although, your friendship wasn't like the ones people wrote about in books or played out in movies.

the Misfits would never have the privilege of a real friendship.

you couldn't tell each other about childhood memories, dreams, goals, or regrets, because the last twenty-one years of your lives had been spent inside the same grey walls. you couldn't go shopping at the mall, or watch movies at the cinema, because you weren't allowed to leave the facility, no matter what.

yet, hyejun was the closest you'd ever have to a friend, which is why it hurt you to see her cry profusely.

"don't cry, you idiot," you laugh, trying your best to keep yourself calm and composed. nothing good ever came out of the both of you crying together. "don't act like you forgot that this would happen some day."

"it hurt less to pretend like it wasn't," hyejun sobs, hugging you tightly. "why did we have to turn out this way?"

you wish you could answer that question.

there wasn't really any research or accurate information on how the Misfits came to be. the only piece of information told to every Misfit child the day they turn three years old is that they didn't have a place in society.

and the next thing you know, you've been shipped off to a facility to spend the rest of your lives as outcasts; as children who were deprived of their life too quickly.

at least once during their twenty-one years in a prison, every Misfit has wondered how this system came to be. who was it that decided what the Misfits were? was there a war? or an uprising? why was it declared that upon turning twenty-four, every Misfit would be executed?

you had resigned to your fate a long time ago. somewhere between the age of five and eight, when you realized that this was your life—living locked up in the facility. it wasn't as restrictive as a prison, as you were allowed to spend time outside your cell for meals, showers, interacting with others, and visiting the in-house library, theater and much more. but you when you learnt that you were strictly denied any permission to leave the place where childhood innocence came to die—you had given up.

you stopped throwing tantrums and crying like all the other children. you stopped wanting to see the outside world again. you stopped trying to live your life. you stopped hoping. you stopped loving.

it was a cruel realization to come to at such a young age, but you never had a choice. your entire life had been decided for you, because of some goddamn reason no one knew, so you gave up on trying to fight the system.

which is why, on the day of your twenty-fourth birthday, when your last three hours on this earth were announced, there wasn't any dread or anxiety filling you. there wasn't any urge to resist and rebel against the oppression you've been subjected to.

you were just another number on the list, the seven hundred and fifty-sixth person to be killed this year.

one of the things you were thankful for was the painless death. back when you were thirteen, an old lady who worked at the facility as a cleaner had given into hyejun's incessant pleas to know how the executions occurred.

the lady had said, "it doesn't hurt at all. first, they inject you with some drug. then, you're taken into an empty white room. they have a machine in there, which i don't know much about, but in merely three minutes, you're gone."

hyejun had ended up in tears after she got to know, but all you could do was laugh to yourself. three years to live a normal life, three hours to spend before you die, and three minutes to completely wipe out your existence, as if you ever really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

ever since you came into the facility, you've seen countless people being escorted upstairs to meet their end. some scream and yell for mercy, some stab a knife into themselves before they die in a way they're not even aware of, and some people, like you, have this empty look in their eyes. they look like lifeless dolls being dragged to their doom, because anything worth living had already been snatched from their hands.

—

"one hour and fifteen minutes," hyejun whispers, looking at the timer on your wrist counting down your last few moments. "y/n, how am i going to live without you?"

"this isn't called life, junnie," you chuckle, the sound hollow and meaningless. "they should've just killed us before we were brought into this prison. this isn't a life worth living."

"how can you say that?" hyejun asks, and you look at her to gauge her expression. hyejun is one of the many people who still haven't accepted that their days are marked. she's one of the many people who hope that there is a second chance at life.

"i can say it because it's the truth," you sigh. "there's no point in grieving the loss of a life you never had."

hyejun falls silent, her expression distraught, and you feel bad for this being your last conversation with the one person you've spent your entire life with.

your heart softens just a little bit for the person who's shared this meaningless life with you, so you move closer to her on the single bed in your cell.

"i'm sorry, i guess i hadn't realized that you haven't accepted this fate like i have," you apologize, wrapping an arm around hyejun's shoulder to comfort her. "don't be too upset after i'm gone, okay? probably not the best source of motivation, but you'll just have two weeks to spend without me before..... you know." you trail off awkwardly.

"i know," hyejun nods, looking up at you. "promise me you'll find me wherever we end up once we're gone?"

"i promise," you smile, and it's probably the most genuine thing you've felt your entire life.

the two of you huddle closer, spending your last hour in silence.

the door to your cell remains open, which is why you aren't startled when two women, dressed in all-white clothing, appear at the door, one holding a glass of water, and the other a pill.

hyejun isn't as calm as you, and tears quickly spring to her eyes when she sees the two officials at the door. "y/n, it can't be-"

"764, please return to your assigned cell," one woman speaks, her tone cold and sterile, devoid of any emotion.

"i- please, just some more time, please," hyejun begs, her hands clinging onto yours, as if bargaining for more time would do anything to delay the consequence you were going to face.

"please return to your assigned cell," the woman repeats. "i will not hesitate to call security."

"junnie, go," you whisper, slowly freeing your hands from her grip. "i'll be fine, you'll be fine."

hyejun shakes her head, sobbing incessantly. "i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too," you admit truthfully. "i'll wait for you, okay?"

hyejun nods, and after another threatening glare from the officials, she shares one last knowing look with you, and for a moment, you feel thankful for being loved by someone in this life, no matter how short or miserable it was.

hyejun goes back into her own cell, and you let your last ever interaction with her sink in.

"756, please take this pill, and then follow us upstairs," the second woman instructs, and you get off the bed to approach the women.

"happy birthday to me," you scoff to yourself, taking the pill and swallowing it down with the water.

as if some countdown has started, the two officials spring into action. each grab one arm of yours and escort you out of your room. out of the corner of your eye, you can see hyejun by her door, collapsed to the floor on her knees, sobbing and grieving the only real connection she had with anyone in this ruthless world.

you wish you could say the same, but it would be a lie.

because when you finally climb the last step, and the door to your death is opened in front of you, you find yourself looking into the chocolate-brown eyes you had foolishly let yourself fall into.

jeon wonwoo.

—

[ flashback - 28th october, 2022 ]

"i wasn't aware that you were allowed to be outside your cell past 11 p.m.," a deep voice speaks from behind you, and you nearly jump five feet into the air.

you turn to see a tall, bespectacled man standing in the kitchen, a white lab coat hanging off his broad shoulders.

he's a doctor.

"i-i'm so sorry," you gasp, realizing that you're in deep shit now. realistically, you knew that the only way you were going to leave this facility was when you died, but you had no idea what the protocol was for people who snuck out of their cells at midnight, which was against all the rules. "i just really needed some water and i didn't have any left in the cell and-"

but the doctor just smiles at you, his intimidating demeanour replaced by possibly the only smile you'll ever see that is so beautiful.

"it's alright, don't be scared," he assures you, in that rich, warm voice of his. "i'm doctor jeon. you are?"

"y/n," you reply, confused about the whole situation. were doctors supposed to be on a first-name basis with the Misfits? "i'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but are you supposed to be talking to me?"

a flicker of sadness appears in his eyes, and disappears just as quickly. "it's alright for me to talk to you. you do realize i am required to interact with everyone in this facility if they visit the infirmary, right? i'm a doctor, it's kinda my job."

your face burns with embarrassment. "sorry, that was a stupid question."

"no worries, y/n," doctor jeon laughs, seemingly endeared by your mini-meltdown. you had no idea why you were behaving this way. never in your life had you been this embarrassed or flustered around anyone. you've been living in a prison all your life, where showers are taken in communal bathrooms and privacy was a rare luxury. why did this man have to change that?

"i'm going to head back to my cell now," you clear your throat, eyes focused on the water bottle you had just filled for yourself.

"alright," doctor jeon nods. "goodnight, y/n."

you give him a nod in return, stiffly walking past him to tiptoe back to your cell. you catch a glance at his name-tag.

dr. jeon wonwoo.

the name stays on your mind for way longer than it should've.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"have you taken the prescribed pill?" wonwoo asks, his tone formal and cold, as if he's never seen you, never known of your existence.

you know that's far from the truth.

"yes, doctor," you reply promptly, attentively watching as wonwoo goes through a few files on his desk. you see his features harden for a second at the name you addressed him with, a giveaway of how much he hated it when you called him that.

"it'll take a minute for the pill to take effect," wonwoo says. "please head over to the chair."

you wordlessly move over to the black leather armchair in the room, sitting on it as instructed. the situation is built on similar circumstances from the past, but it feels so devastatingly unfamiliar and strange.

you don't know if it's the air-conditioner or the cold look in wonwoo's once-loving eyes that makes you shiver.

—

[ flashback - 24th november, 2022 ]

"i'll walk you to the infirmary," hyejun offers. the morning of your twenty-second birthday, you had woken up with a high fever. your body was so weak, you couldn't even move to get off the bed.

thankfully, despite the prison-like feel, the facility wasn't too restrictive with regards to the cell doors being locked, or neighbouring cellmates interacting, which is why hyejun could come into your cell and take you to the infirmary.

you're barely conscious when you enter. you can hear hyejun's muffled voice talking to the doctor on duty, explaining to them your condition, all while you struggle to stay standing upright.

soon, a familiar pair of glasses swim into your vision, strong arms lift you and place you on one of the beds, and a gentle touch on your forehead lulls you to sleep.

the name-tag catches your attention before your eyes close.

—

"doctor jeon?" you croak out, voice groggy with sleep. the doctor looks up from his desk to see you sitting up in bed, finally awake after being asleep for almost the entire day.

"ah, y/n, you're up," wonwoo smiles at you. "how are you feeling now?"

"the fever seems to be gone," you reply after a moment, feeling much better than earlier in the morning.

"that's good to hear," wonwoo nods. "your friend mentioned that it was your birthday today. happy birthday, y/n."

you sigh. "doctor, i appreciate your gesture, but having a birthday is hardly an occasion that calls for happiness, is it? birthdays are never happy for someone like me."

a similar flicker of sadness flashes in wonwoo's eyes, reminding you of the first encounter in the kitchen a month ago.

"i'm sorry, i should've known-"

"it's alright," you interrupt his apology. "at least the infirmary is a change of scenery. never had a birthday party in here before, doctor." you joke, because somehow, seeing a frown on wonwoo's face felt like it should be a crime for him to be anything but happy.

"call me wonwoo, please," he chuckles. "being called doctor by someone who's the same age feels a little embarrassing."

"we're the same age?" you question, sitting up a little straighter. "next thing you're going to tell me is that we have the same favorite color."

"i like blue," wonwoo says.

"me too!" you gasp, the both of you bursting into laughter instantly.

the infirmary was empty for the rest of the day, and the two of you filled it with laughter and stories. wonwoo gladly took the lead, telling you all about his life up until he was hired to work at the facility six months ago, and you listened eagerly. it felt like you lived life through his stories, and it stirred this dangerous feeling inside you.

you had found something that gave you hope, in a universe where hope never worked in your favor.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"details of subject 756. full name, lee y/n. sex, female. date of birth, 24th november 1999-"

wonwoo's voice reading out all your details, the only pieces of information that gave you any form of self-identity, was getting hard to listen to with no response.

"stop."

"756, not interrupting the procedure would be advised," wonwoo addresses you, not even looking your way, his eyes trained on the file in front of him.

"why are you treating me like you don't know who i am?" you ask him in a quiet voice. "as if we didn't spend almost two years together, in love-"

"756, no interruptions, please." wonwoo grits out, sounding just as hurt as you felt.

"you hated it when i called you doctor, and now you won't even call me by my name?" you scoff, and that seems to rouse a reaction out of wonwoo.

"you are nothing but a number on this long list of people that i have to kill," wonwoo seethes, leaving his desk to come stand in front of you. "this is our reality now, 756. whatever happened in those two years, it was a dream, a fantasy."

"our love wasn't real? the hope you gave me wasn't real?" you challenge, standing up from the armchair. "you promised me, every day, that you'd change this, that i wouldn't have to-"

"then you were stupid for believing me!" wonwoo yells, cutting you off. "you should've known that i was an idiot in love, that i would've promised you anything if it meant i could see you smile. if it meant i could see you live the last few years of your life happily."

—

[ flashback - 1st january, 2023 ]

soon after your twenty-second birthday, you had grown much closer to wonwoo. you'd visit the infirmary for no reason, just to spend hours with him, learning about how the outside world worked. there were afternoons where he'd show you pictures of mountains, oceans, parks, children, and animals that he'd taken. there were evenings where he'd sneak you into his quarters, where he'd read you a book, or turn on a random movie he thought you'd appreciate.

it started feeling less like a friendship, and more like love. the way his eyes would light up when you entered the infirmary to greet him good morning, the way his ears would turn red if any other staff at the facility would get close to figuring out his relationship with you, the way he'd hold your hand or run his fingers through your hair, and the way he'd smile at you, kissing your cheek as a goodnight before going back to his own quarters.

you knew you were foolish for falling in love with wonwoo, especially when you had such limited time to love him properly. so you began to distance yourself from him. you stopped visiting him, avoided his attempts to talk, and tried your best to forget him.

it didn't work.

it only ended up in you being dragged to the infirmary by hyejun, when you woke up on january 1st complaining of a terrible stomach ache.

it was wonwoo who took care of you then.

"you've been avoiding me," wonwoo says quietly, watching you take the medicine he gave you. "did i do something wrong?"

you stay silent, wondering if you should tell him the truth or keep it hidden.

"i've fallen in love with you."

the truth it is then.

wonwoo gapes at you, blinking repeatedly as he tries to process your words. after a minute, he regains his composure and says, "i love you too. now why were you ignoring me?"

he asked you to be his girlfriend three days later, and for the first time since you've entered the facility, your heart starts to long for more time.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024]

"yeah, i was stupid," you laugh sadly. "i was stupid to believe that you'd actually do something to fight for us."

"and risk both our lives in the process?" wonwoo argues. "if anyone would've found out, we'd both be killed, and not the painless way."

"well, one of us is going to die anyways!" you raise your voice, the tears you've desperately held back finally spilling over. "why did you have to love me? why did you have to make me want to live? do you know how hard it is for your face to be the last thing i see before i die?"

"and you think that this is making me happy?" wonwoo says, anger, love, helplessness, all emotions bleeding into his voice. "i loved you too. heck, i still do, and even after you're gone, i'll-"

"just do it. do whatever you need to do to kill me," you stop him from finishing his sentence. five-year old you had promised to give into your fate no matter what happens. and even though seeing the only man you've loved about to end your life is breaking your heart into a million pieces, you wouldn't be alive for too long to feel that pain.

"no-" wonwoo shakes his head. "i was stupid. i should've done something sooner. i was scared and i'm sorry. i'll get you out."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2023 ]

"i'll get you out," wonwoo whispers into your ear. you've just pulled him into a hug before you go back into your cell for the night when the words are muttered into the skin of your neck. "i won't let you die, y/n. not like this."

"won, what are you saying?" you ask, pulling away to face him. "are you nuts?"

"i love you and i can't bear the thought of having to lose you," wonwoo breathes out, his voice sounding strained. "i can't lose you."

"wonwoo, this is the system," you scoff. "i can't not die, it's not possible."

"just trust me," wonwoo shakes his head. "i'll get you out."

you let yourself believe him.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"i'm not letting myself fall for empty promises anymore," your words ring out loud and clear. "just get this over with, doctor."

"y/n-"

"756. that's how you're instructed to address me, doctor," you correct him.

"i can't. i won't do this to you," wonwoo refuses, moving closer to stand in front of you and place his hands on your shoulders. "we can get out, y/n. please, let me try."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2024]

"there's no way out," wonwoo mutters, and you feel the hope building in your chest crumble to dust.

"what- what do you mean?" you stammer. "wonwoo, you said you'd find a way-"

"i couldn't," he sighs. "not with management breathing down my neck. they already suspect i'm in close contact with one of the Misfits, and i don't want to give them a reason to make your last few months any worse."

"did you even try?" your voice breaks, your hopes and dreams slowly getting crushed.

"i didn't," wonwoo replies hesitantly. "i'm being monitored, especially after the promotion-"

"promotion?"

"i've been assigned to the room upstairs."

the room upstairs. where every Misfit goes to die.

"you- you never told me about this," your voice is strangled, the weight of wonwoo's words pressing down on your chest like an invisible weight.

"that's because you had no business knowing about it," wonwoo snaps. "look, y/n, from now on, you and i are nothing but strangers. whatever we had between us, it has to end now."

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"you ended things. we're strangers now," you remind wonwoo, and the tears finally escape his eyes. "you shouldn't care this much for strangers, doctor."

"y/n, i'm sorry," wonwoo chokes out, tears streaming down his face, and you belatedly realize that you’re crying too. with the back of your hand, you wipe away the unnecessary and immature tears. this was your fate.

“you didn’t try when you said you would, wonwoo,” you lower your gaze, staring at the floor. "there's no happy ending for us now. there never was."

"i know. i was an asshole for promising you something i couldn't give to you, but i know i'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting not helping you now," wonwoo argues. he holds your hands in his.

"please, y/n, give me another chance."

"you know what's funny, wonwoo?" you laugh bitterly, looking up at the man you will love till the moment you die. "at least you have a lifetime you can spend regretting. at least you have a lifetime to start afresh, find someone else, fall in love. i only had you. you were my world, and it hurt so much when you lied to me and showed me dreams i never should've seen."

"i only said all those things because i loved you then, and i love you now as well," wonwoo's voice is shaky now. he knows your time together is nearing to a close, and with every passing second, he dreads the passing of the remainder of his life without you. "i was foolish to promise you freedom, but it was only because i hated that look of hopelessness in your eyes. and you have all the right to blame me, but let me just try-"

"if you're so sure you can get me out now, why didn't you do it earlier?" you cut him off. "why now? right before i have to die?"

you see the look of guilt flash in wonwoo's eyes. your eyes fall to the white lab coat he's wearing, the symbol of the facility embroidered into the fabric, right above where his name-tag sits.

you raise your hand to brush your fingers against the only name you had desperately hoped to call out for the rest of your life.

you realize that while it was your fate was to die, wonwoo's fate was to live. the purpose of your life was to live twenty-four years on this miserable earth and then vanish, while wonwoo's role was to take your life.

no matter how realistic those two years felt, it was impossible for the two of you to be together. you were carrying out your meaningless life, and wonwoo was fulfilling his duty. a duty that never involved loving you or rescuing you.

the bitterness brewing in you for the last couple of months comes to a rest, because you understand.

"i don't blame you," you utter quietly, hands coming up to rest against wonwoo's chest. if you tried really hard, you could delude yourself into thinking that this was just another morning you would spend with wonwoo, in his embrace, living life as if you had the gift of endless time.

"you were scared too, weren't you?"

wonwoo's face crumbles. he leans forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder as his body shakes with the intensity of his cries.

you hold him tight, and you feel sorry for giving him this warmth and comfort right before you left his life forever.

"you should have never loved me," wonwoo sobs. "i thought i was making your last years something you wouldn't hate, but i just-"

"you made my last years the happiest i've ever been," you stop him. "i don't regret loving you wonwoo, not even for a second. and i'm sorry i was angry at you for not helping me get out. i was too blinded by betrayal to realize that it could cost your life too."

"it wouldn't have mattered if you got to live," wonwoo shakes his head.

"it would've, because i wouldn't have you to live my life with," you say softly. wonwoo pulls away from you. his eyes are red and puffy, and your heart aches with the urge to kiss him, one last time.

"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i'm sorry that we ended up this way. god, if i had it any other way, i would've done anything to grow old with you."

"i'm sorry too," wonwoo sniffles. "for not fighting enough for us."

"it can't be helped now," you smile sadly at him. "maybe in another universe, we get to travel the world with each other and do everything we couldn't do in this one."

"it's time to let go, wonwoo," you say, pressing one final kiss against his lips.

wonwoo inhales deeply after you back away from him. he walks back to the desk, takes out a syringe filled with a clear liquid with shaking hands and comes back to face you.

"i'll find you in every other universe, and i'll love you till the end of time," wonwoo looks into your eyes, and this one feels like a real promise.

"i know you will," you hold the wrist of the hand holding the syringe to steady it.

wonwoo presses the needle into the skin of your neck, the place where he had whispered a promise of a better life before, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"it won't hurt at all," wonwoo whispers as an assurance, and his free hand holds yours tightly.

the needle breaks through skin, the liquid is injected, and your last three minutes begin.

you open your eyes, and nothing feels like it's changed, but then wonwoo approaches you with a black eye-mask.

"i don't want you to see what happens," he explains, and you nod to give him permission. he slips the fabric onto your head, and your vision is blocked.

the last thing you see is his name-tag.

you hear the turn of a door knob, the sound of a door creaking open, and wonwoo's last words to you.

"i love you."

you feel gentle hands guide you into the room just opened, a pair of lips pressing a kiss to your temple, the warmth of wonwoo leaving you.

you're alone.

you smell the sterile antiseptic used to clean the room, a vague burning scent, your impending death.

your time is nearly up.

you taste the salt of the last tears you'll ever shed, the sour flavor of tragic love, blood.

it's almost over.

and then, nothing. it's like your senses have stopped working all of a sudden, and you're in a vacuum.

your hands tug off the eye-mask, but you can't see anything either. you realize it's the effect of the injection.

and it's good that you can't see, hear, feel, smell, or taste anymore.

otherwise you'd see the transparent glass wall separating you from a sobbing wonwoo, hand trembling above the red button that brought about your end.

you'd hear the lasers in the room charging up.

you'd feel a scorching heat all over your skin.

you'd smell your flesh burning till you're reduced to ashes, meant to be swept off.

you'd taste the kiss of death.

the timer rings; three minutes are up.

dr. jeon wonwoo ticks 756 off his checklist.

- fin.

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ancientwastedlores · 9 hours ago

Text

Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

I’m a Loki girl through and through, but a recent The Boys rewatch kinda got me obsessed with Homelander, so I thought I’d write a quick little angst fic based on the Somebody Else x My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” mashup (which I have been playing non-stop by the way. My boyfriend has accepted this new way of life.)

Huge thanks to @blindmagdalena for encouraging me to write this!

I haven’t written fiction in a while, so I hope this is good! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Oh, here we go again.

You put on a plastic smile while he holds your wrist in a death grip behind your back.

The cameras flash incessantly, almost making your eyes water - whether that’s from the ache throbbing in your arms or the flashes, you can’t tell anymore.

"Homelander! Are you going to cameo in A-Train’s multiverse movie!?"

"Homelander, is there a universe where you are A-Train!?"

Homelander laughs, flashing his sharp pearly whites. He exudes charisma as he raises his hands to stop the line of questions.

"I guess you’ll just have to catch the movie next week, boys!"

He pulls you closer to him. "For now, the missus and I have to make it Vought for the premiere!"

With a flourish, he flips his cape like the showman he is and then holds you as he launches, leaving the reporters in the dust.

You feel your tears trail behind you as he whisks you to the penthouse. Normally, New York looks bejeweled from this incredible height. Tiny dots of lights up and down the massive steel and glass buildings. At this height, life is erased. Humans are erased. It’s tall shapes and big shadows, like an unfinished rendering of a video game.

You’ve always loved flying, but you suspect you’re in for a hard time once your feet touch the marble floors in the penthouse.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Homelander stayed silent for hours after getting home. You decided to bake him some banana bread - his favorite - and whip up a good old-fashioned chocolate milkshake. The scent of it usually makes him forget whatever he was angry about, but it doesn"t seem to be working right now.

He paces the room, his rich red cape trailing behind him in the most dramatic way. Homelander has his theatric tendencies, and you have learned to indulge them.

Even when the cost is high.

"What’s wrong?" you ask despite your better judgment.

"What could possibly be wrong? You’re the Jackie Kennedy to my John Kennedy. What could be wrong about that?" he snaps.

"John…"

"Why you?" he asks. "Why you and not me?"

"Me BECAUSE of you, John; they wouldn’t care about me if I weren’t dating you!"

He heaves, his eyes red without the aid of a laser. His chest rises and falls as his brain scrambles for a response. He is angry; no, he wants to be angry. He just wants something to rage about.

He isn’t actually angry that the reporters swarmed the two of you and bombarded you with a hundred questions before paying attention to him. After all, the questions were about him. What’s he like as a boyfriend? What’s the cutest thing he’s done for you? Have you ever worn the cape? Would you ever be in a movie with him?

No, there"s something else. You’ve given up trying to dig deep and find meaning in his outbursts because, more often than not, you get it wrong. Some obscure random thing might have happened 5 minutes or 5 years ago and he seethes about it before calming down.

This is life now.

"Are you actually mad at me?" you ask. "I won’t leave this penthouse if you don’t want me to."

He laughs - a sarcastic, painful one. You’re all too used to this.

Homelander looks you up and down as if scanning you. Assessing you. As if asking himself what you mean for his approval points and how you look on his arm.

You are by no means perfect, but Homelander loved that about you. He never lied that you were the hottest one he’d been with or even the most intelligent. But he loved that you loved him. He loved that you forgave his outbursts and allowed him space to throw a tantrum or brood silently.

He loved that you were patient with him, which is more than anybody had ever been with him. But he often tested that, too.

"You know what, I think I'll do this premiere alone. I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place in such a big crowd."

That stings. You’ve never been a showman or particularly extroverted, but you wanted to try. For him. And you thought you were getting pretty good at it, too.

But you nod. There’s no use in arguing.

Clearly, though, he isn’t done. "I mean, I know you hate putting yourself out there, and you end up a nervous wreck after these events. I don’t want to spend the night taking care of you."

"Sure. I understand."

Somehow, your neutral, bland response does not anger him. For some funny reason, it relieves him that he doesn't have to fight with you to get what he wants.

He turns on his heel and exits the house without another word.

-------------------------------------------------------------

You exit the shower and spot the dress you were going to wear for the premiere. In typical Homelander fashion, he wanted you to match his colors rather than A-Train's colors. This was A-Train's night, but he'd be damned if you wore anyone else's aesthetic on your body.

It’s a red-white-and-blue dress with a dramatic, asymmetrical neckline and fitted bodice with sparkling red and blue sequins transitioning into a voluminous, flowing skirt. Homelander picked it and got it tailored just for you. He knew the parts you were insecure about and made the designer alter the dress to ensure you felt your best. The poofy ball gown style skirt hid your ass, which you didn’t like the shape of. The neckline softened your broad shoulders, which you always felt made you look too masculine. But Homelander made sure the neckline didn’t hide your neck and collarbones, which you loved.

You touch the rich satin fabric, your heart aching. You were so excited to show this dress off, hanging on to his arm as he flashed his charming, boyish smile. You consider wearing it, even if it's just to clean the kitchen, but decide against it. It would hurt too much.

You put on a clean pair of sweats and potter to the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you decide to just watch the live broadcast of the premiere and make do with that.

Three hours pass - you’re asleep on the couch at this point with the TV still running. The premiere ended, and now the channel is playing clips of all mentions of the multiverse in all the past movies. You’d watch if you weren"t so emotionally exhausted.

A click of the front door wakes you, and through blurry eyesight, you see a smudge of red-and-blue enter. You prop yourself up and rub your eyes sleepily.

"Hey."

He sounds like he’s in a jolly mood.

"Hey," you say back. "How was the premiere?"

"I missed you…" he says, voice dripping with sincerity.

"I missed you too…" you bring your arms up as if inviting him to cuddle.

You know he had a miserable time without you. He fucks things up for himself and comes back like a baby in need of consolation.

Sure enough, he makes his way to the couch, where you’ve created a little nest of fluffy pillows and blankets, and practically falls onto you. You wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can while he buries his nose in your neck.

"So. Is the movie every bit as terrible as you thought?" you ask, knowing he’s in the mood to shit-talk A-Train.

"Worse," his voice comes muffled. "Terrible. Horrible. Garbage."

You laugh and push him lightly so you can have an audible conversation. "Tell me about it."

"It baffles me the bullshit Vought comes up with. So pointless and bland and unnecessary. And A-Train was eating it right up. Lapping up every last bit of praise like a fucking dog."

"A-Train looked lost in the spotlight. He cannot handle it like you do," you say. "Nobody does."

A giddy smile crosses Homelander’s face. You pinch his cheeks lightly and then run your fingers through his perfect blonde hair. "Do you want to watch something half-decent and doze off on the couch?" you ask.

"No… I want you to put that dress on so I can fly us to dinner."

You look at him, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. His boyish grin is disarming, softening your resolve just like it always does. You want to say no. You want to tell him you’re too tired, that the emotional whiplash of his moods has wrung you out like an old sponge.

But you know that’s not what he wants to hear.

You force a smile instead. "Sure.”

You stand, your legs unsteady, as you head to the bedroom to slip on the dress. It feels heavier now than when you first tried it on. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks.

You catch your reflection in the mirror. The dress is stunning—perfect, even. He had it made for you, tailored to his vision of you. But when you look at yourself, you see the hollow shell of the person you used to be. You see someone who bends and folds and breaks under the weight of his love.

You hear him calling from the living room, impatient. "You ready yet? You’re gonna knock 'em dead."

You close your eyes, gripping the edge of the dresser until your knuckles turn white. No, you cannot leave him. He needs you, and he doesn"t mean to be mean. He’s trying to make up for it, isn’t he? Stop being such a sensitive, emotional baby. Get the fuck out there and let him show you how sorry he is.

You enter the living room, the satin catching the light and making you look almost ethereal. Homelander is stunned by his own creation.

"Gorgeous. Fucking perfect."

You smile and do a little twirl, feeling like the most beautiful girl in the world.

He rises from the couch, his cape draped dramatically over one shoulder, and strides toward you like a man who owns the world because he does. "You’re my queen. The only one who can keep up with me."

Yes, but do you want to? Or do you want to slow down a bit? Savor the small moments and not spend your life waiting for the next attack?

You can do nothing but kiss him. He pulls you close by the waist and almost devours you in his frenzy. Waves of emotions crash over you, voices urging you to both switch off your brain and get far away from the broken man.

How much more of this can you take? He will make it his mission to find out.

He pulls away and flashes his pearly whites. "Ready to lift off?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely" you smile back.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The restaurant is one of the most exclusive in New York—floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the city, tables spaced far apart to ensure privacy, and a waitstaff so attentive it’s almost suffocating. Homelander loves it here. Not because of the food, though it’s excellent, but because everyone here knows who he is. They don’t gawk or ask for autographs, but you can feel their reverence in every stolen glance, every hushed whisper. He thrives on it.

You sit across from him, the candlelight bouncing off the sequins of your dress. He's been in an unusually good mood since you arrived, and for a moment, you let yourself believe tonight might actually be different. He's been complimenting you all night, his eyes lingering on yours in a way that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world.

“See?” he says, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin. “I knew this dress was the one. Look at them.” He gestures subtly to the other diners, some of whom are clearly trying not to stare. “They’re jealous. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

You smile faintly, murmuring a soft “thank you” as you sip your wine. It’s moments like this that make staying feel worth it. But then, as always, the warmth starts to curdle.

The turning point is subtle. It always is. He starts picking at his food, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. You can tell something’s shifted. You don’t know what triggered it this time—maybe it was the waiter who smiled a little too warmly at you or the couple at the next table who didn"t acknowledge him quickly enough.

“Do you think they’re staring at me or you?” he asks suddenly, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

You blink, taken aback. “What?”

“I mean, they’re obviously looking at me,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re the one soaking it up, aren"t you? Sitting there like some fucking… princess.”

The words hit like a slap. “John, what are you talking about?”

He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “You love this, don’t you? The attention. The glamour. The fucking dress. You think it’s all for you.”

“Of course, I don’t,” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I came here because you wanted to. I’m here for you.”

“For me,” he repeats mockingly, his lips curling into a sneer. “That’s rich. You think I don’t see the way you look at them? Like you’re just waiting for someone better to come along. Someone who doesn"t scare you.”

“That"s not true,” you whisper, but your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. You glance around nervously, hoping no one is listening. Of course, they are. Even if they can’t hear the words, they can feel the tension radiating off him like a live wire.

Somewhere, you blame yourself for enabling this behavior. Your timidness… your eagerness to please… your avoidance of conflict… it feeds him. If it were Starlight or Stormfront or anybody else, they would stand up to him and draw a boundary. And that’s what he needs - not a timid, sniveling fool who would bend over backward to play into his fantasies.

He laughs bitterly, almost as if he agrees with your thoughts, and leans back in his chair. “You know what"s funny? You’re so scared of me, but you’re the real monster here. You just sit there, pretending to be this sweet, innocent thing, and you judge me for every little fucking thing I do or say.”

“I don’t judge you,” you protest weakly, your hands trembling in your lap. “I—”

“Save it,” he snaps, his voice rising just enough to make heads turn. “You’re just like everyone else. You love me when I’m the hero, but the second I let my guard down, you look at me like I’m some kind of freak.”

“John, please,” you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we not do this here?”

“Why not?” he says, his smile cold and cruel. “You embarrassed me at the premiere, didn’t you? Couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Do you know how pathetic that made me look?”

“I was just respecting what you asked of me. And I thought you said you missed me,” you say softly, tears stinging your eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “What do I know, right?.”

The rest of the dinner passes in a blur. He doesn"t apologize. He doesn"t even look at you. You pick at your food, your appetite long gone, and force yourself to smile when the waiter comes by to clear the plates. You feel like you’re suffocating, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest like a boulder.

When the bill comes, he doesn"t even glance at it. He tosses his card onto the table and leans back in his chair, looking more like a king about to call for an execution.

“Ready to go?” he asks casually, as if nothing happened.

You nod, your face carefully blank. “Of course.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

He flies you back to the penthouse in silence. The city lights blur beneath you, but you barely notice. Your mind is racing, your heart pounding. You know what you have to do. You’ve known for a while now, but tonight was the final straw.

When you land, he kisses your cheek and tells you he’s going to shower. “Don’t wait up,” he says with a wink, and then he disappears down the hall.

You wait until you hear the water running before you move. You slip out of the dress and back into your sweats, your hands trembling as you pack a small bag with just the essentials. You don’t know where you’re going yet—maybe a hotel, maybe a friend"s place—but you know you can’t stay here.

As you zip up the bag, you glance around the penthouse one last time. It feels empty, like a stage set after the actors have gone home. You think of all the times you convinced yourself this was enough. That he was enough. That you could fix him if you just loved him hard enough. And he would love once you fixed whatever was wrong with you.

But you can’t. You know that now. He needs someone stronger.

Braver.

You leave the dress draped over the back of the couch, a silent goodbye. Then you slip out the door, the sound of the water still echoing in the distance.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t look back.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It happens on the fourth night.

You"re staying at a hotel under an alias, the type of place he wouldn"t normally stoop to visiting. You"ve been trying to keep your head down, trying to breathe for the first time in what feels like years. But deep down, you knew it wouldn"t last.

When the knock comes at the door—sharp, insistent—you freeze. Your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t have to check; you already know it’s him. You’ve been bracing for this moment since the night you left. And honestly, he took longer than you expected.

Still, when you open the door and see him standing there, you’re not prepared. He looks almost unhinged, his hair slightly mussed, his eyes blazing with something between fury and heartbreak. His red cape is gone, but the suit clings to him like a second skin.

“I found you,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender, but there’s a dangerous edge underneath it. “Of course I did.”

You step back instinctively, your hands gripping the edge of the door. “How did you—”

“Don’t.” He pushes the door open with ease, stepping inside like he owns the place. “Don’t ask me stupid questions. You really thought you could hide from me? Me?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Come on, sweetheart. Give me more credit than that.”

“John…” you start, but he cuts you off, pacing the room like a caged animal.

“You left,” he says, his voice rising. “You just walked out. No note, no call, nothing. Do you know what that did to me? Do you have any idea?”

Your chest tightens. “I needed to.”

“Bullshit.” He spins to face you, his expression twisting with anger. “You didn"t need to do anything. You chose this. You chose to hurt me. After I rescued you from a pitiful existence and made something of you. Little Y/N wanted to be a writer but had no time. I rescued you from your shabby little apartment and gave you everything. Time. Money. Luxury. And this is what I get.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you say quietly, but your words only seem to inflame him further.

“No?” He stalks closer, his voice dripping with venom. “Then what do you call this? Running off in the middle of the night like a fucking coward? Hiding in some fucking run-down rat-shit hotel like you’re afraid of me?”

“I AM afraid of you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. His face freezes, a flicker of something almost like pain crossing his features before the anger returns.

“You’re afraid of me?” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “I’ve protected you. I’ve given you everything. Everything you asked and didn’t ask for. You sound so fucking ungrateful. I loved you.”

The words hit like a slap. You take a step back, shaking your head. “That's not love, John. That's control.”

“Don’t,” he snarls, his voice trembling with fury. “Don’t you fucking psychoanalyze me right now. I loved you. I still love you. And you—” he can’t stop his maniacal laughter. He wags his finger at you. “You!”

Tears well in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I just think this isn’t meant to be.”

“Oh, you’re a fortune teller now?”

“John…”

“Such a fucking saint, aren't you, saving us all from unhappiness. Or…” he smiles. A dangerous smile. “There’s someone else!”

The question knocks the breath out of you. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “There’s someone else, isn’t there? Is that why you left? Did you find someone who makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Someone who doesn"t scare you?”

“No,” you say, your voice breaking. “There’s no one else.”

“Then why?” he demands, his voice rising again. “Why did you leave me? Why did you—”

“Because it’s not love!” you scream. The first real, raw emotion you allow yourself to feel in forever.

Homelander almost looks proud of you for it.

“You keep being cruel to me. You keep saying horrible things, and I get it; I'm not intelligent or gorgeous or fucking V'd up like your other girlfriends, but GOD. Why are you with me if you hate me so much?”

For the first time, you see Homelander shocked. “What? I don’t… I don’t hate you; what the fuck are you talking about?”

You laugh in resignation and wipe your tears with the neck of your sweater. “Homelander, I’m not the one for you. I’m done.”

“You’re done? YOU are leaving ME?”

He stares at you, his chest heaving, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is deafening. He’s confused that you think he hates you and cannot fathom why you would believe that. He gave you everything. In what universe is that hate?

“I gave you everything,” he says, more to convince himself now, his voice raw. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Part of you wants to desperately say you want to be back together when things are better. When you are stronger, and he is kinder. You want to believe that once you fix you, he will miss you. He will return and be so much nicer. Softer.

But you know that time may never come.

Just at this moment, Homelander wishes his powers had allowed him to read minds, too. Your face inscrutable, he has nothing to latch on to. He looks at you like you’ve just plunged a knife into his chest. For a moment, you think he might lash out, that he might destroy the entire block in a fit of rage.

But instead, he takes a step back, his expression crumbling.

“You’ll regret this,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ll miss me. You’ll see.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Maybe I will.”

He stands there for a moment longer, his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw tight. Then, without another word, he turns and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

You collapse onto the bed, your entire body shaking. The weight of the confrontation crashes over you. Hot tears finally gush out as you clutch your pillow and sob quietly, knowing Homelander can still hear you.

This isn’t over. Not yet. He will forever stalk the edges of your life, watching. Waiting for you to need him.

You know Homelander well enough to know he doesn't let go of his toys without a fight.

-------------------------------------------------------------

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #my boy only breaks his favorite toys #somebody else #song inspired #I am an absolute sucker for pain #please sir give me more

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evanbuckleyrecs · 2 days ago

Note

Any recommendations on hurt-comfort Buddie that will make you cry? HEA please!

I started to answer this but accidentally clicked on a Tumblr link so I gotta start over 😂

I haven't read Buddie fics in a while so these are a bit older. (I'm going to catch up soon! I've just been in a phase where I'm either reading Teen Wolf fics or physical books)

Also haven't updated my bookmarks yet. Sadly a lot of great authors I'd normally recommend have turned anti-Buddie since April and I'd rather not promote them in Buddie posts if they're not safe to follow anymore as a Buddie fan.

Please check the tags of a fic before reading in case something is triggering for you!

the things that haunt me in the middle of the night by justhockey

2,4k, rated G

He gasps for breath and it feels like a reflex - like coming up for air after being sucked under. Like a desperate, manic thing.

He’s safe, he knows that. Knows he was never really in much danger anyway. But the sound of it all - the waves, the rain, the crashing and the thundering - it echoes in his head, ricochets through his bones. It lives inside of him, he guesses, even after all these years. That fear, the exhaustion, the crippling terror of finding the surface only to realise that Christopher was gone.

He rubs at his sternum, tries to breathe deeply, tries to blink away the memories of the day the water nearly took everything from him.

I let my guard down by bucksclipboard

6,5k, rated M

"It didn’t stop. Buck went from hoping the packages were from someone special to suspecting someone was toying with him. The hopeless romantic in him was slowly wilting. When he opened the latest letter, suddenly he was not so sure his secret admirer was of the good-natured kind. "

or: who needs police protection when you have eddie diaz by your side?

Cut me slack (I've watched your heart stop) by kat_atthewisco

Rated G, 5,4k

“Well, unfortunately I am calling you specifically for your role as Mr. Buckley’s power of attorney. He does need a couple of decisions made about his care that he’s not fit for at the moment. If you’re able to get here soon that would be best, I can’t tell you much over the phone.” To her credit, Deirdre does sound apologetic, and Eddie’s panic has begun to ratchet back up.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, is he- please, how bad?” Eddie repeats.

In which Eddie gets The Call from Cedars-Sinai while he's off work thanks to a healing injury. Being Buck's emergency contact is suddenly a very real thing.

Never More To Leave Here by devirnis

Rated T, 10,2k

"Can you remind my brother that we were supposed to get lunch?” Maddie asks.

“Uh sure,” Eddie says slowly, confused. “But why don’t you just call him yourself?”

“I did, a couple times, but he didn’t answer. I assumed he was still with you?”

Eddie thinks back to last night, to Buck specifically making plans to go back to his own place so he wouldn’t be late for lunch with Maddie. Buck had texted him when he got home, just a simple night :) that still made Eddie’s heart flutter, so obviously Buck had made it back to the loft… But there haven’t been any texts from Buck all morning. Not that that is necessarily unheard of, but especially over the last few weeks it’s become rarer and rarer for even a few hours to go by without Eddie’s phone dinging with a message notification from Buck.

A small tendril of worry curls around Eddie’s ribs.

BTHB: locked up & left behind

Diagnosis: Dumbass by snarkymuch

Rated T, 2,7K

Christopher scrunched his face, then stopped rummaging through his pack to grab something from the ground—something that turned out to be his phone.

“No, nope—who do you think you’re calling?” he asked, trying to reach for it, but Christopher had already hit the button, dialing someone—whom he’d bet anything was his father.

Christopher pulled away, out of reach, phone to his ear, then a moment later saying, “Yeah, I’m okay, dad—yeah, I know—no, but he fell out of a tree—”

“He is fine, though!” Buck yelled, hoping to stop the inevitable freakout from Eddie. “Eddie, do you hear me? I’m fine!”

--or--

Buck takes Chris out for a light hike, somehow ends up falling out of a tree, and Chris patches him up while waiting for his dad to arrive.

Presumed Dead by inkonmyheartandonthepage

Rated G, 4,4K

The fresh air was supposed to have been good for Buck. A small hike that he had done a million times. A nice hike that gave him a workout and at the same time allowed him to sift through his thoughts and feelings and to focus on what he really wanted.

Instead, he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere at a rest stop watching some asshole drive away in his jeep.

The 118 crew arrive a fender bender only to find it's Buck's jeep on fire and the body inside dead and burning.

The monsters turned out to be just trees by Ink_Dancer

Rated T, 8,4k

Buck and Eddie are searching for a missing person, and they're already lost in the woods when Buck gets injured and makes their situation a lot more complicated. With the sun going down, they're forced to spend the night outside, with only each other for warmth and shelter.

(set post-buck's recovery from the firetruck, but no other specific time markers. nebulously within the show's canon.)

It's what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead by heartbeatdiaz

Rated T, 12,4k

"Eddie? Eds, can you hear me?” Buck rubs his knuckles against Eddie's sternum, a little too harsh, a little too desperate. "Eddie!"

Eddie croaks out a weak, barely there, whine as Buck's knuckles do the trick and his eyes open in slits.

"Evan?" He chokes out, his voice so hoarse and raspy that it must have been hurting his throat. "You're real?" He whispers in awe, his hand twitching as his side like he wants to reach up to Buck— touch his face— but he's too weak to do that. Eddie's brow furrowed but a small smile graces his lips, barely there. "I didn't give up. I made it home to you."

or;

the one where a call goes wrong and leaves everyone thinking eddie was dead, buck finds about the will through a letter and comes to some other revelations in the process.

and in which eddie finds his way back home and finally gets to be happy with the love of his life.

BTHB Prompt: Missing and Presumed Dead

Let me go by tawaifeddiediaz

Rated T, 8,1K

For the first time since he met him, he wasn’t sure where Buck was, and it was driving him insane. His shift ended three hours later than Eddie on Tuesdays, and today, he had texted saying that he was going to pick up groceries.

After that, he hadn’t returned back home.

Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54

Rated T, 9,6k

Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor...

And his right foot misses the edge.

Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.

A leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

Not rated, 11,1k

Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

And I watched a part of myself die 'cause no amount of freedom gets you clean by himbobuckley

WARNING: rape/non-con. Rated T, 10,2K

Buck goes out drinking after a particularly tragic call and the night takes a turn for the worse when he's targeted and assaulted. Struggling in the aftermath and unsure how to handle it, Buck tries to distance himself from his friends and family, believing that with time he can simply move past it on his own. Eddie notices something is wrong with Buck and desperately tries to get through to his friend, fearing the worst.

or:

Buck goes through the fucking ringer. eddie notices something's horribly wrong. you can contact my lawyer for emotional damages.

or:

“I heard about what happened yesterday,” Eddie says softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. And that I didn’t know. I should’ve gone out with you, or made you come over, or-”

“Eddie,” Buck interrupts. “It’s- it’s okay. I just went out drinking. It’s fine.”

“Drinking alone?”

“Yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, alone.”

“Hey listen, why don’t you come over tonight? We can do a movie night. And… I have something to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck murmurs, feeling the tears welling up again. “I don’t think I can tonight.”

“Hey, wait Buck-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blue skies by spaceprincessem

36,7k, rated T

“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.

Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.

“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”

And.

And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.

{or Buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down}

Leave The Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania

Rated M, 44,4k, fandom classic

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says.

“Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says.

“I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies.

“Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.”

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

Over The Age, Over Again by mintedwitcher

Rated E, 16,5k

EXCERPT:

He would’ve fallen down the cliffside if it hadn’t been for Bobby on the winch. Because that… that’s Buck’s jeep. There’s no denying it, no mistaking it. That is Buck’s jeep. Hanging almost sideways off a ledge, the driver’s side doors flung open with the force of the fall. And further down… no. No it can’t be… a man, smashed against the rocks. A massive pool of blood. But Eddie can see the familiar white sneakers against the dirt.

No Sight For Heart Eyes by znks

Rated E, 20,5k

“Buck, Karen, and Eddie stayed on the couch and talked while the kids settled on the floor to draw. It all felt so wonderfully normal that Eddie found himself forgetting that he hadn’t just closed his eyes in serenity as he leaned against Buck.

That’s what made the spell breaking so painful.

“Dad! Look! I drew the firetru- Oh, wait, it’s okay you can see it when you’re all better!” Christopher said it so cheerfully, not even hesitating before going back to swapping out pens with Denny.

But Eddie felt it like a shot to the chest.

He couldn’t see his son’s drawings.

Buck and Karen had barely paused in the conversation, but Eddie could hear how strained it became, both of them obviously knowing exactly how heartbreaking the moment had been. Buck’s arm wrapped more tightly around Eddie’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder.”

losing your sight for a week sucks but at least eddie has buck to guide him through his healing or at least through his own house

This has inspired me to go read more recent hurt/comfort Buddie fics! I haven't been super active on this account but hopefully I can update this soon :)

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfiction #911 buddie #911 fanfiction #911 abc #buddie fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic rec

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fourstarsoutofnine · 3 days ago

Text

To get away, Chapter 5

Things we don’t speak of.

Not beta read lol

Tw: talks about ptsd and healing, and legend self loathing but are we surprised? No.

“So.” The traveler said, eyes drooping as he and the veteran walked out of your room. He was still exhausted.

“So.” The veteran mirrored him.

“Are we going to talk about that?”

The veteran took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. “Link. There are some things we don’t talk about… things we don’t speak of….” He took another breath. “This is one of them.”

“Often, those are the things we need to speak of most… you know I’ll understand more than anyone.” The traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to him slightly, a pained expression on his face. “…but will you? Will you really?”

“Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

The veteran stalled, looking off beside the traveler’s head. “…no.”

“Exactly. Let me in.” His grip on the vet’s shoulder tightened slightly. Comfortingly. That pressure was comforting.

The vet pulled him down the stairs and outside. He was never good at talking about his feelings and trauma, and goddesses forbid anyone else being around to hear it. He took a deep breath and looked off, not wanting to look the traveler in the face while he spoke.

“…one of my adventures consisted of…” he paused. “a dream. And that was the only time I’ve ever… trusted someone with—me… and that wound me up losing who at the time I was so sure was the love of my life. I lost her to this big stupid windfish. The entire thing was fake—it was the windfish’s dream and i had to wake him up. Marin was gone after that. The island was gone.” He fought back the bile rising in his throat. “It’s all just a distant memory now but-…. All the time, I’m terrified of waking up and everything being a dream. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I can’t let myself be happy, and I hate it. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?”

The veteran finally looked over at the traveler, tears in his eyes and threatening to spill. The traveler wrapped him in a tight hug. “Fear does that, Link. Creeps up on you. Sometimes you’ll go ages without thinking about it and then all of a sudden bam. You’re back in. You feel like you’ve been dragged back, claw marks in the dirt—but you haven’t. You don’t have to start over every time you have a flashback. And you don’t have to stop yourself from being happy… you can let yourself be happy. Don’t waste your life waiting on the other shoe will drop… Cause you’ll realize it never will, and realize you’ve spent so long trying to survive that you never lived.”

The veteran took a deep breath and his shoulders shook. He was crying. That soft, quiet cry developed into a sob as years of unprocessed trauma and heartbreak came forth, flowing out like a cup of wine left under a running tap. Healing.

“If—it happened so long ago—why does it still hurt so bad?” He choked out, muffled by the traveler’s tunic.

“It’s like a bone.” He said softly. “When a bone heals wrong, you have to break it again so it will heal properly. Then you can use it.” He rubbed his back.

The veteran felt small. He realized this was the smallest he’d ever felt in his life. He always saw the traveler as his younger brother. Someone he had to protect. Someone he loved more than himself…now, he felt like the little brother. Felt like a little boy. A kid. Cradled by his older brother, hidden away from what cruelty lies outside. Safe. The veteran felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” The traveler spoke again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you… and I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone there for you then… im sorry you feel like you need to be guarded all the time. You don’t… not with us, at least… we are all here for you. Anything you need…”

The vet nodded. He sat up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. “Thanks, man…” he sighed heavily, head feeling heavy and thick from crying. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he hated it. He hated to cry. Hated feeling small and weak.

“A bone has to be rebroken before it can heal properly.” He remembered. He wasn’t weak. He was healing.

“Really.” He spoke again. “I really, really appreciate it… thank you.” He hugged him tight.

“Always. I’m always here. So are the others…” he pulled away when the veteran did. A cold breeze passed through them and they both shuddered. “We should get inside. You need sleep.”

“..i can’t go back in there with her. I don’t—“ the veteran tried to make excuses but they died on his tongue when the traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can. Just go in there. You were rooming together anyway… she’s alright. Healed, thanks to whatever powers she’s got. Go sleep in a bed.” He smiled. “You’ll wish you had a bed to sleep in a few days from now.”

The veteran huffed a laugh for the first time in a good few days. “Got that right…” they made their way back inside. Everyone had gone to bed by now. They went up to their rooms, the traveler pausing while the veteran went inside. “Night, traveler.”

“Goodnight, vet.” He smiled. “Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut and the traveler went off to bed.

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icarusflewsworld · 14 hours ago

Text

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 9 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Please feel free to comment and telling me what you think of the story, it would make me very happy. In any case, thank you for reading ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapter 9

“Hey, what are you doing,” Feyre asked worriedly as she walked around the table to follow them, ready to defend her best friend.

Azriel growled, being the only thing he could do, still filled with anger and jealousy that burned in his chest. He continued to pull Luxiana who followed him, laughing softly and trying not to lose balance and fell. Azriel had the logical thought to tell himself that she really had no survival instinct to laugh as she was dragged by three faes into another room.

Cassian didn't even turn around to Feyre who was following them to tell her coldly, "This is something between her and us. It doesn't concern you."

"Rhysand," Tamlin called out in a threatening voice, glaring at the other high lord and joining Feyre.

The three Illyrians froze stiffly at the sound of their enemy's voice, stopping in the hall, a few steps ahead of Feyre, Tamlin, and everyone else.

Rhysand grimaced in a mixture of disgust and anger. He was facing Luxiana who watched this reaction with a tilted head. Feeling the blonde's eyes on him, he looked down at her and instantly calmed down. "We're just going to talk."

They all three started moving again and so Azriel started pulling Luxiana. "It'll be okay Feyfey, don't worry, they just want to talk." She threw a mischievous and hilarious look at Feyre who gave her a jaded look back.

Feyre knew her best friend could defend herself, but she doubted her ability to overpower the Lord of the Night Court if he was as powerful as Lucien and Tamlin said.

They all stood frozen in the hall as the three Illyrians entered an adjacent room, throwing the door open abruptly.

"Hey, this isn't your place, where do you think you are going?" Nesta cursed as she took a step towards them but was stopped by Feyre who motioned her head to her, silently telling her not to go. She didn't want her sister to get into trouble unlike Luxiana who knew very well how to defend herself.

The three Illyrians paid no attention to Nesta's reflection, far too consumed by anger for Luxiana and her unknown man. Azriel pulled Luxiana inside what looked like a living room with two sofas on either side of a small table. He abruptly placed her in front of him, while Cassian slammed the door behind them to close it.

Azriel glanced at Rhysand to confirm that he had indeed erected a sound shield around them so that no one could hear the discussion. Rhysand nodded, silently assuring him that he could speak freely.

Luxiana looked them over one by one with a smile on her lips. She was eager to see what they had to say to her and why they had reacted like that. It was full of mystery and she loved it. "You wanted to talk to me?" she pointed out in a confident voice, not even a little intimidated, or at least not that she showed it.

Azriel barely waited for her to finish her sentence, which he hadn't even heard, to grab her chin with his free hand, digging his index finger and thumb into each of her cheeks. He lifted her head and pulled her towards him, sticking her to his chest. "Who the fuck is Kayden?"

"Az," Rhysand called out. He wanted to order him to let her go and calm down, but the truth was that he was in the same state as him. As them. They were now one with his brothers, and they could feel how jealous Cassian was, how angry Azriel was, and how hurt he was by her seeing another man. He knew because they all three felt the same way now.

Luxiana's eyebrows twitched for a second, restraining herself from frowning. What was that question? Why was he asking her that? Had he brought her here for this? It didn't make sense. She tried to back away and get out of Azriel's grip but he tightened his grip on her cheeks and arm, pulling her closer to him again.

"You better not hurt her," Cassian warns, glaring at Azriel and placing his hand on his bicep to try to make him let her go.

Luxiana frowned uncontrollably this time. He wasn't hurting her. He looked mad with rage at her, for some reason she didn't know -the veins in his eyes were bursting and his temples were pounding fiercely- but despite that, he wasn't hurting her even though he looked like he wanted to kill someone. It was cute. "I barely feel it," she replied with a smirk at Cassian.

Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise before finally smiling in turn, reassured and adoring her behavior.

"Who is it?" Azriel repeated more firmly, throwing an insistent and furious glance at Luxiana. His teeth were clenched so tightly that it hurt, but when she smiled, he was completely destabilized, especially when her fingers dug into his dimples. And he almost couldn't look away from her red lips that she wore so well.

"Why do you care?" she replied suspiciously, narrowing her eyes to take in each of their reactions.

Rhysand closed his eyes, concentrating on trying to compartmentalize his and his brothers' emotions as waves of anger and arousal at Luxiana's provocation crashed over him. Over them. Of course, he was dying for that answer too, but the way she was behaving around them was turning him on far too much. Far less than it was turning Cassian on, though.

Cassian, feeling the wave of anger turning Azriel from the inside -and him and Rhys at the same time-, did not decide to wait for his brother's reaction to push him and force him to release Luxiana.

Azriel had growled and was going to insist on making her spill the beans but Cassian pushed him, forcing him to release her so as not to hurt her. But he would never hurt her. He moved away a few steps, forced by Cassian, to whom he threw a dark look.

Rhysand leaned against the door with his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calmer and more confident than he was. “We just want to know who this man is.”

Luxiana still had her eyes narrowed as she looked at Rhysand. She crossed her arms. "I repeat myself, but what does that matter to you?"

Azriel almost jumped as he shouted, "You are not allowed to see another man." His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said, but he didn't calm down, his furious expression returning. He ignored the dark looks from his two brothers to focus on Luxiana. He just wanted that damn answer.

Luxiana flinched, surprised by his words before bursting out laughing. She didn't understand a word they were saying. "I beg your pardon?" she laughed.

Rhysand gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes, grabbing the bridge of his nose and then opening them to look Luxiana. "What he means by that," he tried to correct as he had an idea, "is that you're not allowed to see anyone while we were meeting the queens."

Luxiana laughed even harder "But what does that have to do with that?"

"It seems that you could have betrayed the secret of this meeting or its importance," Rhysand said, trying to sound wary of Luxiana, but he couldn't hide his bright eyes as he admired her. She was so beautiful when she laughed. "You could have defeated the purpose of the meeting."

Luxiana instantly calmed down, stopping laughing, widening her eyes. Everything cleared up in her head. That was why they were so angry. "I didn't betray the secret of this meeting. I didn't tell anyone about it." She assured, trying to sound as sincere as possible although her voice came out louder than expected, a little offended by these accusations.

Azriel narrowed his eyes, first surprised and then startled. "You're lying," he pointed out.

His two brothers turned a shocked look towards him before giving an equally startled one to Luxiana who had widened her eyes.

The blonde took a step back. How in the hell had he known she was lying? There was no way. She crossed her arms, putting on her angry expression. Either it was a bluff, or he thought she was so stupid or untrustworthy that they were convinced she had betrayed them. “No, I’m not lying!”

Azriel let out a guttural sound, clenching his fists. “You’re lying again.” His breathing was rapid, his eyes burning.

Luxiana was startled. How did he do that?? "How did you..."

"Did you tell anyone about this meeting?" Rhysand exclaimed in shock, standing up from the door, interrupting Luxiana. She had betrayed them? Wasn't that possible? Not his soulmate. He couldn't breathe anymore.

"Whose?" Cassian added as he took a step towards her with wide eyes still shocked. "Do you know how stupid this is?! Not only could you have jeopardized this meeting and ruined everything, but you could have put yourself in danger too!" His stomach gave him the impression to explode, someone could try to kidnap her to get information about this meeting.

"To whom did you tell about it?" Rhysand repeated as he moved closer to her.

Luxiana huffed, rolling her eyes. They were strong, the bastards. "I only told Kayden, and trust me, he's not going to tell anyone." She locked eyes with Azriel, "and that's the truth."

Just when she thought it would calm them down, their gazes flared with anger.

Cassian spun around, seething with anger, his wings contracting. He threw his hands up to the ceiling. "Who the fuck is that guy??" He yelled, turning back to his soulmate, his gaze filled with rage. "Take us to him!"

"Yes, do that," Azriel managed to say, shaking with anger. He closed his eyes, tilting his head left and right to stretch his neck. A smile emerged on his lips at the images of all the horrible things he was going to do to that Kayden.

Rhysand huffed, his heart breaking and his eyes burning. This man must have meant so much to his soulmate if she had decided to tell him everything. "Who is this man to you?" he asked, his voice intended to be firm but sounding almost as desperate as he was. He cleared his throat at Luxiana's frown, trying not to let it show. "I mean, can we trust him?"

Luxiana looked at them one by one, trying to see through them. Then she sighed. She was really going to answer them when normally she would have beaten people up for less. What were these faes doing to her? They were downright sexy. "He won't tell anyone, trust me. He's just my boss." She glanced at Azriel, making sure he didn't detect half the lie.

The latter narrowed his eyes.

“He’s my boss!” she repeated insistently, seeing Azriel’s expression. And it was true. Today, he was just her boss and nothing else.

“Is she telling the truth?” Cassian asked his brother.

Rhysand also looked at Azriel hopefully, praying for a positive response.

Azriel analyzed his soulmate then gradually relaxed. She was telling the truth. She seemed to be hiding something but this Kayden was really her boss. He nodded.

The three Illyrians relaxed with such power that they almost fainted. She was not intimate with that man. She did not love another man. They were not going to have to torture a stranger. They relaxed.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair, loosening his high bun a little. His muscles relaxed.

Rhysand took a deep breath and blew out all the air, closing his eyes fiercely.

Azriel's legs nearly gave up under the weight that left his shoulders. He ran his hands over his face.

Luxiana detailed their reactions one by one, finding them very strangely relieved. They didn't trust her to believe that she had betrayed them but they trusted her enough to truly believe that Kayden wouldn't say anything about their meeting with the queens. It was so strange. They seemed to be hiding something.

"Why did you tell him?" Azriel asked coldly, more calmly, hoping for an answer that would not displease him.

“Because he’s my boss, and when Feyre came back, I wasn’t at work that afternoon and…” She bit her tongue. Why was she telling them all this? She huffed through gritted teeth, speaking carefully as she eyed Azriel warily. “I just snapped. I burst into tears when I saw him after everything Feyre had told me and everything that had happened to her. He needed an explanation and I needed someone to talk to, that’s all.” She shrugged.

Azriel relaxed a little more, noticing her pure sincerity this time, relaxing his two brothers at the same time, making them understand that she was telling the truth. That said, it saddened them to know that their soulmate had not been able to count on them to comfort her at that time.

"But I promise you he won't tell anyone. He promised me and I believe him. He never revealed anything I told him and he doesn't talk to many people anyway." she assured with a truly apologetic look on her face.

They didn't care if this man could tell someone about this meeting, they had the book but what worried them was that someone could attack her for information. But her guilty look melted the hearts of the three Illyrians. She was so cute. She was beautiful.

Cassian then realized something, frowning suspiciously. "What kind of job do you have that requires you to look this good?" He pointed at her fully, gesturing at her dress and face. "Since you were apparently with your boss this afternoon, that means you were working, right?"

Luxiana's gaze began to shine with pride. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and pursing her lips to keep from laughing. "So you're implying that you find me beautiful?" She leaned forward towards Cassian, to closely examine his expression and make sure he wouldn't lie in his answer.

Cassian smirked, returning her smile. He raised his hand to her, brushing his fingertips over her plump cheek, shivering softly at the touch of her skin. She was so soft. He grabbed a strand of her hair that hung over her face and wrapped it around his finger, shivering once more. Her hair was so fucking silky. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not implying anything, I’m shouting it out loud, you’re beautiful, Luxiana.” Damn, his soulmate’s name sounded so right, spoken through his lips.

Luxiana's face changed completely. Her confidence slipped to surprise and then realization. She straightened up slowly, her cheeks and ears heating. "Oh," she said simply, looking away, unable to keep her eyes fixed on Cassian's intense pupils that made her chest tremble. She pursed her lips but to avoid cursing herself out loud this time. Since when did she blush that much at someone's compliment? This was new.

“And you’re so much cuter when you blush,” Rhysand added, eyeing her up tenderly.

Of course, the comment from the Lord of the Night Court only made her feel more uncomfortable, making her blush a little more. It wasn't supposed to please her so much to receive this kind of compliment, yet the fact that it came from these three faes tickled her all over. She glanced suspiciously at Rhysand, wondering why they were telling her all these nice things and why they weren't angry anymore when she had betrayed them anyway and had told someone about this meeting with the queens.

"Every expression she makes makes her cute anyway." Azriel added, crossing his arms and eyeing her up in the same way Rhys did. He also had Cassian's smirk. What he had just said was the truth, but he admitted he said it out loud to make her blush even more. Which happened to the delight of the three brothers.

Luxiana's heart was beating wildly in her chest and she could feel her entire face heating up. A sort of guttural noise of irritation escaped her as she glared at the three Illyrians who had caused her this discomfort. All three were looking at her with bright eyes and smiles and she was convinced it was because they were mocking her. "If that was all you had to say to me, then this discussion is over." She started almost running towards the exit but Rhysand gently grabbed her wrist as she tried to step around him.

“Wait, stay, we’re not done,” he pleaded softly. “You avoided the question again. We’d like an answer.”

Luxiana played the innocent card knowing full well what he was talking about. Those faes surely wouldn't like to know what she did for work. She shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

“Where do you work?” Azriel repeated harshly.

She glanced at him sideways, smiling innocently. "In a bar." And it was true. At least, in part. After all, the question hadn't been what she did for a living, but where she worked at, and her boss had set up in a bar. It was the perfect place to gather information, and people felt safe asking Kayden for favors there.

“Are you a waitress or something like that?” Cassian asked, staring at her.

“Something like that,” she replied in the same falsely innocent way.

And the three Illyrians said nothing more, settling for that answer, thinking she was a waitress or a bartender, at most. He didn't really like the idea that their soulmate worked with drunk men but it explained why she had to go out late last time and that she disappeared the whole night.

“I see,” Azriel breathed, looking down, then looking back up at Luxiana with a determined look. “You have to stop.”

“Excuse me?” Luxiana cried, turning to face Azriel.

"Az," Rhysand reprimanded in thought, giving him a menacing look.

Azriel gave him back his air, continuing the discussion in their heads. "You refuse to let her come with us until the threat of Hybern has passed, very well, I can understand, but there is no way she is going to be around this bar and especially this Kayden for a second longer. Imagine all the things that could happen to her. It's far too dangerous."

"For once I agree with Az," Cassian added through the same link with a serious face that didn't quite match him.

A silence had settled in front of Luxiana who was looking at the three Illyrians and who understood from their changing faces and the looks they threw at each other that they were having a secret conversation. It was quite impressive and much too secret for her. She didn't like it very much.

Rhysand huffed. "Kayden is her boss, you heard her, they are not intimate. We have nothing to fear on that side and she apparently is used to working in this bar, nothing ever happens to her, there is no reason for her to end up hurt now. And I prefer to have her here, far from the danger we represent for her than close to us. At least, until Hybern threatens us."

“But…” Cassian tried before being interrupted by Rhys.

"It's over. And you know I'm right."

Azriel growled and walked towards Luxiana. He pointed at her once he got in front of her. “Just watch yourself. Be careful.”

Luxiana narrowed her eyes. Those three were really weird. She nodded and then turned around, blowing her hair near Azriel's nose and sending a whiff of her vanilla perfume into his nostrils. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, his entire body tickling. What was this woman doing to him?

Luxiana stepped around Rhys to open the door. She rushed into the hall followed by Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel while everyone looked at them strangely, wondering what they could have said to each other.

“Well,” Tamlin wasted no time seeing his wife’s best friend return safely. He took Feyre’s hand. “We can go now.”

Feyre wanted to protest as Tamlin pulled her towards the front door but Luxiana slid lightly towards Tamlin, positioning herself on his other side and grabbing the high lord of the spring court free hand with both of hers. Tamlin froze, looking down at her with a wide gaze.

Everyone gave Luxiana a surprised and wide-eyed look.

The eyes of the three Illyrians were almost going to fall to the ground. What the hell was going on? One of Azriel's eyelids began to jump nervously, Cassian's wings contracted and relaxed in time with all the muscles in his body, including his heart which was now beating randomly, and Rhysand was at two fucking fingers away from releasing his power and destroying everything for five miles around.

The Lord of the Night Court was actually going to say something, or rather threaten Tamlin with destroying everything he had if he didn't move away from his soulmate, but Luxiana spoke.

"Okay let's go" she smiled with all her teeth at Tamlin. Her smile was fake without a doubt, it really disgusted her to have to smile at this idiot and have to touch him but she had promised herself when she made her decision that she would make an effort for Feyre and that was what she was doing.

“Excuse me?” Tamlin scream in response.

“Excuse me?” Rhysand repeated in a voice filled with uncertainty as he eyed Luxiana with fear.

“Huh?” Cassian cried at the same time, his face still paralyzed with surprise.

“I don’t think I heard you right,” Azriel spat coldly with a wild look.

Luxiana gave them another puzzled look. They were really weird. She shook her head. It didn't matter, it wasn't about them, it was about Feyre. She looked back at her, letting go of Tamlin and putting on a serious face. "I'm coming with you. I won't leave you alone anymore."

"What?" Feyre exclaimed, breathing quickly. She glanced at her two sisters who remained in the corner of the room. She would love for her best friend to join her, she even dreamed of it, but then who will protect her sisters.

Luxiana caught Feyre's gaze and understood. She gave her a reassuring smile. "I asked Kayden and Josher to watch over them. They'll be fine. I won't leave you alone anymore. Not with this war brewing."

Feyre's eyes filled with hope. "But you can't leave your whole life, everyone you love, for me."

Luxiana smiled softly. “You’re the most important one of it, Feyre. I owe you my life, you know that.”

The three Illyrians barely heard the conversation. What had happened between the two girls?

"That's not true, stop with that, it was..." she tried before being interrupted by her best friend who was laughing softly. Feyre stopped to stare at her. Then she smiled with all her teeth, her heart swelling with joy. Luxiana had already made her decision and she knew that nothing could ever change her best friend's mind. She then raised a bright look of hope and joy to Tamlin, even making her hand tremble in her future husband's.

“No way,” the blond said, eyeing the two women beside him. He loved Feyre, but he hated her best friend. She was a pain in the ass, and there was no way he was going to live with her twenty-four hours a day.

"No fucking way," Rhysand almost shouted at the same time from where he stood, still shocked.

Everyone glanced at her but Luxiana didn't calculate Rhysand's words, ignoring him completely, making the three Illyrians rage. They really couldn't believe it. Was their soulmate really asking their worst enemy to go live with him?????

“Please. I’ll make myself small, you won’t even know I’m here. Besides, I’ll just have to make sure Feyre is happy and okay. If she is, I’ll leave,” she pleaded in a way that surprised Tamlin.

She had never spoken to him so kindly. He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. Then he blew out a breath through gritted teeth, remembering that she had already crossed the wall and its defenses once to look for Feyre and that she could do it again if she wanted. He looked down at Feyre who implored him with her eyes and the joy shining in his wife's pupils got the better of him. He blew out one more time. "Good."

Feyre's eyes widened and she jumped in joy. She kissed Tamlin's cheek in thanks then jumped into her best friend's arms who gave her a hug. Their laughter echoed through the hall making Nesta roll her eyes.

“There’s no fucking world where that happens,” Azriel laughed falsely, almost like a psychopath.

The girls stopped laughing, splitting up to stare in confusion at the three Illyrians who were white as sheets and looked like they were living a real nightmare.

"But what's wrong with you? What's between you and Luxiana?" Lucien asked, looking at them strangely.

“Take his name out of your fucking mouth,” Cassian spat disdainfully.

"You're already very lucky that I haven't ripped off your skin and tongue yet, you dirty carrot, don't you dare get involved in this or approach Luxiana." Azriel shouted, barely breathing, as he moved wickedly closer to Lucien.

Tamlin growled, ready to lunge at them.

Rhysand held back his power with all his might from exploding so hard he felt like he was going to implode. He wanted to kill them. He swore he wanted to kill them all but there was so much more at stake right now. His soulmate couldn't be afraid of him, of them, he refused to. And as much as it killed him to admit it, in Tamlin's court, she would be safer than here and in fact even safer than near him. No one would attack her to get to Tamlin. It was a good compromise despite himself, even if it tore his chest in two to admit it. It even made him tremble with fear to know she was in Tamlin's hands, especially if he were to learn that she was his soulmate but Tamlin would not hurt her. Not as long as he loved Feyre. He took a deep breath and tried to explain all this to Cassian and Azriel minds, to reason with them and calm them down.

Which didn't work at all. Both of them turned to him with a mixture of rage and surprise. How could either one of them agree to accept this??

"Let's not put her in unnecessary danger," Rhysand added in thought.

“She’s our soulmate!” Cassian shouted inside his two brothers’ heads. “She’s bound to us, she will be in danger at some point.”

Rhysand gritted his teeth as he barely saw his two brothers eyeing him up as if they were looking at an alien. "You're right, so let's first make sure she's our soulmate with the Suriel and if she is, then we'll go get her even if she's at the Spring Court. In the meantime, we need to let her go with Feyre, we mustn't hurt her or scare her."

“She’s our soulmate too,” Azriel spat, glaring at him. “We have just as much right to decide as you do.”

"Maybe, but I'm still your high lord," he said coldly in a tone he hated to use because it wasn't him.

Azriel and Cassian clenched their teeth and fists. They knew Rhysand was partly right, but damn, knowing their soulmate was close to Lucien and in such a dangerous world when she was just a fragile human, it destroyed them. But reluctantly, they finally agreed.

“They’re a little weird,” Feyre whispered to her best friend, detailing their silent discussion.

"Yeah but they're hot," replied Luxiana in the same tone but the situation was so serious that -although the three Illyrians had heard- they didn't even smile, not even being able to rejoice in knowing that their soulmate found them sexy.

“Well then it’s decided,” Tamlin said, still looking out of the corner of his eye at the three brunettes. “We’re leaving.”

Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian would have liked to run to Luxiana to make her promise to be careful, not to approach Lucien or Tamlin, not to leave her castle, or to make Tamlin promise to take care of her but they couldn't. They couldn't let their enemy think that she was their soul mate.

But this game was over. They were going to go meet the Suriel to make sure she was their mate, to find out if it was possible. And if it was, then there would be no more time to lose. They would keep her with them, willingly or not.

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theoceanoasis · 2 days ago

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A heA hea

A heavily carrying Rodimus accident gets sent to another universe thanks to Brainstorm's latest invention. He's found by Soundwave, who is immediately protective of the poor mech because he's carrying (a rare and precious thing in that universe) and is excited to learn his counterpart is the sire, because he always wanted to be a creator.

As he takes care of Rodimus while he stays there, he keeps an eye out on reports that have Autobots who match Rodimus' appearance. It wouldn't hurt to see if he's around and single...

Meanwhile, Soundwave, Rodimus' Conjunx, is s e e t h i n g in protective sire rage as Brainstorm and Perceptor (Rodimus' carrier) are trying to get back Roddy. They eventually do but poor Brainstorm is in so much trouble with both the sire and grandcarrier.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Brainstorm said it was important and as Co-Captain I need to go. Even though I'm carrying I still have to do Co-Captain stuff."

Soundwave sighed knowing he couldn't persuade him not to go.

"I'm coming with. Brainstorm's inventions have always been unpredictable and dangerous."

"Okay."

He didn't argue knowing how Soundwave's sire coding has been affecting him.

They walked to the lab and he watched Brainstorm talk. He didn't understand all of it as he cuddled against Soundwave.

"Rodimus do you want the honor or pressing the button?"

"Okay, I do like big shiny red buttons."

"Rodimus are you sure about this?"

Soundwave stopped him, having a bad feeling.

"I'll be fine. All I'm doing is pressing a button what's the worst that could happen?"

He reassured Soundwave going up to press the button. Only for the machine to malfunction and a portal to open up sucking him inside. The last thing he saw was Soundwave's panicked gaze as he rushed towards him before it shut.

He opened his optics and looked around taking in the environment he recognized it from his time on Earth.

He carefully picked himself up slightly worried about his sparkling, although nothing seemed to be wrong. He didn't know how long it would take the others to find him so he decided to walk around and check out his surroundings. He heard there were some bots on Earth and maybe he could find them.

He walked in a random direction until he heard rustling coming from behind him. He turned around brandishing his pipes in case of danger.

The rustling continued and he gasped staring in shock as Soundwave appeared although he didn't look like his Soundwave.

He froze shocked with the realization he was in another dimension. This Soundwave still had his Decepticon symbol proudly displayed on his chest and he worried about getting into a fight with him. Although he didn't want to hurt any version of his mate he would defend his sparklings.

This dimensions Soundwave looked him over taking in his sparked belly he lowered his weapon and he lowered his pipes.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"I'm from another dimension. There was an accident and I was transported here."

"Whoever transported you should be punished. They put you and your sparklings in danger."

Soundwave growled unhappy on his behalf.

He didn't say anything although he had no doubt his carrier and Soundwave were pissed at Brainstorm right now. Especially Soundwave with his sire coding.

"Come with me. Carriers are rare in this universe and very precious. No one will hurt you little Autobot I promise you that."

Soundwave held out a hand and he took it deciding to trust him. Although he wasn't his Soundwave he was still a Soundwave.

The mech carefully guided him through the forest occasionally having him rest and refuel. When they got to the Decepticons base Soundwave had him looked at by Hook. He wasn't Ratchet but he would have to do for now and he was relieved his sparklings were unharmed.

After talking to Megatron who was so different from his own and similar in many ways. It was decided he would stay with Soundwave so he could look after him.

He'd just gotten settled in his room when the Decepticon had asked the question he'd been wondering ever since he saw him all alone.

"Who is the sire?"

He looked up giving him a shy smile and placed a hand on his growing belly.

"My dimensions Soundwave is the sire."

He looked at him in shock and listened as Rodimus told him about his dimensions Soundwave and how they were bonded.

Although he'd always wanted to get bonded and have a sparkling, with the war he knew it would never be possible. Especially with carrier mechs being so rare. he found himself envious of this other Soundwave and wanted what he had. In his dimension, the war was over and he had everything he'd ever wanted.

Once Rodimus was asleep he decided to look up the Autobots database which showed every member of their cause. He scrolled through the names and pictures of different machs and femmes looking for one who matched Rodimus's description. After all, it wouldn't hurt to see if he was around and single...

"Find him now."

Soundwave glared looking terrifying and Brainstorm flinched back reminded of why he was Megatron's third in command during the war.

He looked at Perceptor for help, but he looked equally as angry and he shivered knowing he would be sleeping on the couch for a while.

"I'll find a way to get him back i think he was transported to another dimension."

"I'll help you."

Percy volunteered. Usually, he would have liked working with him but right now he looked about ready to kill him, and he could only nod scared to disagree.

Soundwave also stayed glaring at him the entire time and being a menacing force.

The Decepticons were treating him well and he enjoyed hanging out with this dimensions Soundwave, but he still missed his own. His sparkling's also missed their sire, and he'd occasionally burst into tears wanting his mate.

It was a little embarrassing especially when it happened in front of someone, but no one judged him understandings that it was hormones.

This dimensions Soundwave was comforting him after he'd begun crying for Soundwave. When a portal opened up and his Soundwave stepped out. He gasped jumping into his arms and clinging to him.

His carrier also appeared and hugged him happy he was safe. When he turned back to his mate, he found him glaring at this dimensions Soundwave. They had a standoff neither moving as they threateningly glared at the other.

He placed a hand on Soundwave's shoulder, and his mate pulled him close taunting the other Soundwave with what he couldn't have and making him jealous.

He quickly pulled him through the portal before a fight could break out with his carrier following behind.

Once the portal closed the other dimensions Soundwave was disappointed Rodimus had been found. Until he received a message from one of his cassettes saying they'd found a mech named Hot Rod who looked like Rodimus.

He sent them an affirmative already planning how he was going to make Hot Rod his.

#transformers #hot rod #rodimus #soundrod #soundwave #transformers cyberverse #hot rod x soundwave #cyberverse soundwave #perceptor #brainstorm #fertile hot rod/rodimus #mech preg #carrier perceptor

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