#i did this months ago but this and that happened...

[hysteria-things]

PLEASE WRITE LIKE A LITTLE BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT MATT GRABBING READER'S FACE LIKE HOW HE DID WITH CHRIS

thank you😭

TEMPTATION (part two)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you fight to not fall for matt’s charm for the second time the same day, but the tension is too strong that you can’t resist.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, oral (female receiving), fingering, praising/degradation, p in v (pull out method), stomach bulge

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,563

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i want to get through my requests and sprinkle them into fics so if you see something that seems like it was requested a while ago that’s why LOL

clinking of dishes and water running is a good distraction. the sudsy soap coating your hand on the sponge as you wash a plate feels warm on your skin. you’re focusing as hard as you can on your senses, matt standing just a few feet away while you’re helping him clean up after dinner.

he brought evelyn to bed a few minutes ago, and now you can feel him staring into your back. your heart pounds in your chest, thinking about what occurred only this afternoon in this same kitchen. nobody made a peep about it after it happened, but that’s all you’ve been thinking about all day—his cock moving past your lips so naturally, his grunts and groans intensifying the closer he got, his praises, the way he made you look up at him with the soft grip of his hands on your cheeks…

you bite your lip and clench your thighs at the thought, but you shake it out of your head the second it arrives.

you can’t do that again. that was a mistake.

when you dry the last dish and place it into the cabinet above, you jump when you notice matt standing directly in front of you when you turn around. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles. “i want to thank you for your help today. you know, with ev and all.”

“you’re welcome.” you say quickly, taking a long exhale. “it’s my job.”

his arms cage you in against the counter, each one planted on the edge of it by your sides. he groans, leaning into where his lips ghost yours, and your chest heaves even faster. he takes his knee and parts your legs with it, pressing firm against your covered mound. he starts kissing down your neck, biting at the skin in the process. not to leave marks, but to show you how desperate he is for you as much as you are for him. “tell me to stop.” he mumbles against your jaw, bringing his face up to meet yours again.

your eyes dart over his features, shaking from how turned on you get from such little contact. “i can’t.” you whisper, heart beating rapidly.

“say it.” he murmurs, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you gasp slightly. “say that you want me to stop.”

“no,” you say shakily. he’s so fucking mesmerizing that it annoys you, but you’re aching for his touch, his body, him. it’s only been a month of nannying for him, but goddamn do you need it bad.

matt pulls back, frustratingly running a hand through his hair. you let out a sigh, finally being able to breathe when you think he’s going to walk away, but no. he grabs your hips and lifts you roughly onto the counter, caging you in once again by pulling you towards him with a hand possessively wrapped around your waist. “you’re fucking killing me.” he pants, moving to raise your arms above your head to remove your shirt and unclip your bra. he smirks when you help him get off your leggings, throwing them aside. you wince when the elastic of your panties snaps against your flesh when he rips them off.

“fuck.” he breathes, scanning your body over and over again. “fuck.”

your nipples are hard peaks, breasts moving with each breath you take. there’s a sticky mess on your thighs, your dripping hole aching for his cock. he hurries to get his shirt and pants off, eyes still locked on your flushed body.

“look at her,” he says, thumbs spreading your soaking folds. his eyes look frantic and hungry, pupils dilated almost fully as he admires your pussy. he runs a finger up the slit, and you shiver. “she’s practically begging for me.”

the ticking of the wall clock seems to become louder when you watch him kneel, hot breath against your sensitive heat. he flicks his tongue once… twice… three times over your clit, and you jolt with each lick. he runs a hand over your thigh, squeezing the inside before he starts to suck at your bud, also soaking one of his fingers with your juices before inserting it. a hitched gasp is caught in your lungs, matt putting in his middle finger next.

his eyes roll back, tasting you and fucking you with his fingers at the same time. you whine, gripping tight onto his hair for stability. he groans, adding a third, scissoring the digits nuzzled into your cunt. arching your back, you moan from how full you feel already. you’ve never been fingered with more than two, but this—

you snap out of it when he goes in with four, and you’re so wet that they move in and out quite easily. he hums approvingly, the vibration letting another moan slip out of you. the erotic sounds of his tongue and squelching from his fingers make your toes curl. you can feel him stretch you out at the way he moves his digits, and you clench around them.

keeping your grasp on his head, your low moans turn into whines. he’s eating you out like a starved man as if you’re his last meal. it seems that from now on whenever matt is hungry, he’ll just go for your pussy. your eyes flutter, mouth agape when your hands reach to your tits and clutch hard, twirling your nipples.

he pulls his mouth away from your swollen clit, licking his lips to get an extra taste. his knuckles plunge harder, curling his fingers to hit that spot right where you want it. you start to twitch and quiver, the knot in your stomach snapping the second it appears. he slides out the digits from your still-tight hole.

you’re left a trembling mess, settling down from your orgasm when he stands back up. he wants to kiss you so you can taste yourself, but he can’t. sex is one thing, but kissing you is another. it’s more dangerous because if he does, he won’t ever turn back from wanting you.

instead, he forces his fingers into your mouth, and you lick them clean with a satisfied hum. “good girl…”

then, his palms hold the creases of your knees, lifting and spreading your legs open. his dick throbs, wrapping his hand around the base and pumping himself a couple of times to get him harder than he already is. looking at your naked body while he does so makes him grunt, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. he nudges the head between your folds, coating it before slowly pushing into you.

“come on.” he grunts in concentration, watching your face contort in pleasure when he pushes in inch by delicious inch. “good girl, stretching out for me.”

you let out a small yelp when he’s balls deep, slamming your eyes shut from the pleasurable pain by accommodating his size. “shh, shh.” he soothes you, pecking your shoulder. he starts thrusting slowly, but gradually gets faster when he feels you split open for him. “there you go.” he sighs contently, spreading your legs even wider to get deeper. “what an obedient slut, taking my cock.”

your hold onto the counter for dear life, moans getting more high-pitched until you slap your hand over your mouth. evelyn is sleeping just upstairs, and you have to remind yourself of that. your vision is blurry from the tears forming in your lids, eyes rolling back so far that only the whites show.

strings of cum connect to his thighs and your cunt, the sight having matt drilling into you faster to the point where his tip reaches your cervix. you feel the bulge in your belly when he bottoms out, and that alone has you clamp down on his dick harder like a vice. he curses under his breath when he sees himself peeking out of your abdomen. “such an innocent whore.” he coos, and you moan from the degrade, it being muffled by your palm. “you like this dick?”

removing your hand, you babble some ‘fucks’ and ‘oh gods’ when you clench repeatedly. you start to spasm again, the same hot feeling building up like it did before. you’re not a screamer by any means, but your pants and whimpers alone have matt’s thrusts get sloppier. he notices your expressions and smirks.

“look at me.” he snarls, hips snapping against your ass and grabbing your face with so much force that your cheeks squish. your eyes flutter to look at him, half-crossed. he smiles menacingly at your dumbed out face before speaking. “i want you to look at me when you cum. i want you to look at who’s fucking you this good.”

moaning in response, some spit coats the corners of your mouth. he can tell you’re close by your incoherent voice and squirming, but he’s also not far behind either. you throw your head back, biting your lip to lessen your filthy sounds when you gush around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. he pulls out with a wet pop and groans, balls tightening as he spurts hot cum all over your stomach.

it takes a load of silence to get your breathing back to normal and your brain less hazy, tilting your head when you realize something peculiar painted with his semen: the letter ‘M.’

he must be so damn proud of himself.

��𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[k1tty5]

I would like to make it clear that I do NOT want anyone’s firstborns, but I will ramble. for you.

rambles about the process and other thoughts under the cut! I talk a LOT, so… view at your own risk?

I originally had this idea a couple months ago, I think when I first heard the song. I had made a little test for it, which I didn’t end up doing anything with because I thought it didn���t really make much sense. Which, I’m not sure I did that great of a job making this make sense, but you know. Whatever.

this is the original drawing i made for it back in early august, very rushed and not a big fan of it.

I liked the black background & grayscale palette, as well as the way the string kind of . Twirls around the text? BUT, I went into this without any planning, mostly just me doodling and then threw the lyrics on for fun. No plot or whatever, very short.

After I made this, I was kind of just keeping this idea in mind for later, but I held back on trying to do it as I just wasn’t really sure where I wanted to go with it. I’m very bad at planning and tend to rush into things a lot, which ends up hindering the quality of a lot of my art. and since this was something I actually liked the idea of, I wanted to give it my all.

There was also the fact that because I liked the idea, I wanted the best outcome. This kind of ends up in a sort of paralysis where I don’t want to work on something because I’m not good enough for it, but I did realize that I will likely never consider myself good enough for it, so why not just go for it?

Anyway ,

I did not end up keeping the black background for the reason that I decided that this time around I wanted it to have a more traditional vibe/look? Like perhaps it was scrawled over some roughed up paper, hence the sketchy style and limited palette.

And as for why I didn’t keep the string looping around the pages, I just thought that would add too much red to the pages, sort of ruining the vibe. So I instead just kept it inside the panels!

these are the original thumbnails/sketches! most of them I kept the same, but I did end up pretty much entirely changing the third page, because I decided there was already too many panels of just their faces with somewhat unsettled expressions .

thoughts on individual pages - don’t expect me to be organized or this to be well thought out, by the way,,

on page 1 ,

I started with a shot of the relationship, mostly to just… set the scene. I am NOT an expert on comics, and went into this with very minimal planning, so this work in general is more of the vibes than it is a storyline, but I did try to vaguely get it to resemble something comprehensible.

the second panel of Etho brushing Joel’s cheek is very much no thoughts for me lol, not very happy with how it looks. I do picture Etho as the more openly affectionate one (though i can see it both ways). BUT, to match with the lyrics, you could say that the first panel paired with “it’s hard to tell which elements of this are real” could be resembling that the boat is something tangible and physical, whereas the second panel paired with “and which are chemically enhanced” is referring to whatever feelings they have. Asking themselves if this is really real, or if it’s just the game.

no notes on the third panel lol. like i say this was not well thought out, the story is somewhat there, but it’s VERY much up to interpretation and I did intend it to be that way. I have ideas about what is happening, but I want to keep it up to the viewer.

on page 2,

“But it’s not easy to tell what I want from what I need” OH BOY !!! manic red joel. blinded by the bloodlust and rage and adrenaline. he needs this. he needs it, doesn’t he?

“I am more scared of myself than I am of anyone else” okay okay okay. I don’t headcanon he has any real remorse for killing anyone. this is a death game, you’re not meant to be a good person, this is built on lies and manipulation and blood and hurt. headcanon they’re all insane people doing bad things (with a forced hand or not). BUT !!! big fan of “i break everything i touch” kind of thing (its kind of a pattern in ships i like OOPS). so much angst. regretful of your violent nature, wishing to be gentler so that you can cradle his face without digging your nails into his skin, unwanting to break the only thing you’ve learnt to love.

but. etho doesn’t care !!! he doesnt care. his hands are just as bloody as yours, don’t you see?

on page 3,

panel one is just a continuation of the last scene which i just talked about blah blah blah

panel 2!! thats a portal. we all know what happened in the portal :)

on page 4.

ending the mini comic thing with the ship burning, while it started with a shot of the ship in its prime. before and after, how it started and how it ended.

all in all, I !! AM !!! INSANE!!! about them. I could ramble for hours probably but this is already long so ending with a couple final thoughts.

this is definitely meant to be set after they’ve gone red, when in that timeframe is up to you, though. in my vision the lyrics are kind of correlating to c!joel’s thoughts/feelings/whatevers, but it can definitely go both ways - or neither way lol. This song is really just like. THEM. To me.

anywho, thank you to anyone who has put the augh’s and ough’s in the tags, they’re very gratifying haha <3

the simplest words

[bunnys-kisses]

emotional support boyfriend

oscar piastri

cw: smut, agoraphobia, oscar is a sweet boyfriend, plot, fluff, gentle sex, praise kink, slight angst, depictions of violence, trauma

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

you swallowed, "this is silly. i don't need an emotional support boyfriend, my love." oscar was seated beside you at the stairs as he got his sneakers on.

"not a big deal, i'd be sitting on the couch otherwise."

oscar had been really good after the... incident you witnessed only four months prior. you wished that it had happened at a location further away from home, but it was rather only a few blocks from your flat. you had been avoiding it as much as possible, but it was hard. and it still left you shaken.

when you got up from the steps and waited for oscar to do the same you watched him stand up then zip your sweater up to your chin before he kissed you on the lips.

it was simply going to the store, getting a few items for dinner then walking home. ever since the incident, you had taken alternate routes that doubled your time getting there and back, or having oscar do it if he was home. you wanted to avoid the intersection as much as possible because the anxiety you felt was a lot.

it was easier to just avoid it, but your therapist thought that maybe it would be good to try and approach the anxiety more head on. and while you were comfortable with doing it alone. oscar wanted to be there just in case.

the walk started slow, you held onto oscar's hand as the two of you walked down the main road. oscar kept close to you, he was a grounding presence.

oscar chatted with you and you smiled. you held onto him a little tighter when a motorcycle went by. and he simply leaned in to kiss you, continuing talking. you passed by the bus stop without much fanfare, at least your brain felt a little quieter. the anxiety of the event didn't wash over you into a panic.

"here. for a job well done." he said as he slipped a bar of your favourtie chocolate into the basket.

you giggled, "i don't need treats like a dog."

oscar kissed your cheek, "not like that. i'm proud of you." and while it all felt a little silly, you appreciated it. to know that whatever progress you make about your intense anxiety, you weren't going to do it alone.

when you got home, you felt better than other times you were in the area. you didn't feel the throb of dread in the pit of your soul and the anxiety rush up into your chest. while a little shaky when you walked by the bus stop, you managed to pass by it not once, but twice. oscar there the entire time to support you.

"you did so well."

you swallowed, "it was just a walk." you made a face when he kissed along the bridge of your nose, "nothing too serious. wasn't like i had to tend to another victim." the words felt weird on your tongue.

four months ago while walking back home from work, you saw a belligerent drunk man attack another man at a nearby bus stop. the man was hit and bleeding and you tried to tend to the gash in his head while another man who was walking the opposite direction of you tried to talk the drunk man down. the police were called and you were interviewed while oscar heard the sirens and came down the street. you weren't home and he was worried. you were told you did good by everyone and that he would be "perfectly fine". but you were left rattled and going near that intersection made your blood run cold.

oscar kissed your lips, "no need for that, love." he kissed your cheek with his hands on your face lovingly, "you did so good. your therapist will love hearing about this. i'm proud."

you felt something flutter in your chest and you rested up against your boyfriend. you know he worried, he kept his phone on silent while working unless it was a message from you. just in case.

it wasn't till after dinner that you got more cuddly with your boyfriend. the food felt filling and your brain didn't feel rattled. it was a success and you wanted to keep riding that high. and that left you two in your shared bedroom with oscar's lips on you.

his hands up your shirt, he asked, "is this okay?"

you nodded, "perfect. it's amazing. yes, oscar, yes." you then giggled before you put him in for a hot kiss and let his hands explore your body. you felt warm all over as he felt you up. he was a gentle lover, he always had been. you didn't believe there was a bad bone in his body, except maybe in the heat of competition.

but he'd never lay a hand on you unless he had your consent. your enthusiastic consent. sex was meant to be fun so to hear you giggle as he got your shirt off excited him.

"you did amazing today, my love.' he said as he got into your space once more. your chest up against his as he got you onto the bed. soon you were both undressed and you laid there out on the bed under your lovely boyfriend.

his hands careful on your hips as he rubbed up against you. you moaned softly as you could feel his hard cock up against you. your heart hammered in your chest, but not in a way that scared you. but rather you felt excited all over.

you looked up at him and he got between your legs, he rested on his heels and his cock stood at full attention. before he could say anything you spoke, "i want this, oscar. please. i don't want anyone else."

he broke into a smile and said, "well, i can't say no to that."

you shifted your body a little to give him more access to your soft skin. he ran his fingers across you and you shuddered a little bit before he took a hold on his cock to guide it inside you pretty cunt. he shuddered when he felt your wetness across his length.

he started to move slowly, and his words poured like a fountain. and it made you feel hot all over you. he leaned forward and pressed his chest to you.

"you look so good." he said, "i love you."

you felt a little heat in your cheeks as you moved against him. your nails held onto his shoulders as the two of your moved together. you whined, "you don't need to praise me, oscar."

he chuckled and kissed your jaw, "yes i do. i want to praise you." he held onto your hips and moved a little faster. he loved the feeling of you, he also loved spending time with you. being with you was a treat for him and it made him feel hot all over.

the kisses continued, loud and wet in your shared bedroom. he moved against you. his cock felt snug in your pretty cunt, like a perfect fit for the both of you.

"you look beautiful." you giggled as you scratched across his shoulders. you could feel the shudder of want through your body.

he laughed, "no, no. you're beautiful. you're the beautiful one." he kissed the corner of your mouth, "i'm just your boyfriend. you're the real star." he cupped your breasts between his hands for a moment as he moved against him.

you blushed more, "you flirt." you tightened your legs around his waist as he moved against him. the kisses continued as he moved against you.

"only for you." he blushed. you covered your face but oscar quickly took them away and said, "i want to see you." he smiled down at you.

"okay. okay." you giggled.

you would've thought all about the romantic moments with oscar. but the pleasure coursed through your body even heavier as he laid more kisses onto you. his hands played with your chest as he moved against you. and you moved back against him. it was a hot feeling between the two of you, like a wire that connected you.

your cheeks stained with heat as the two of you really rutted against one another. your lips felt tender from all the kisses. oscar gazed at you with love and even cupped your face for a moment. it felt nice to feel his big hands across your face.

oscar would always make sure you were okay. always.

you held onto him and placed wet kisses onto the side of his neck. when you held on tightly, you climaxed. your back arched a little to be closer to him as the pleasure clawed through your body. your eyes squeezed shut a little bit. and your heart pounded in your chest.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too."

he came soon after and held onto the covers on either side of you, he didn't want to bruise you in his hard grasp. you took him by the face and messily kissed him. which made the driver melt a little at the feeling. he groaned into the kiss as he rocked against you a little more, which made your toes curl.

when he eventually stopped, he broke the kiss and looked at your blissed out. oh, you looked gorgeous. he pulled out of you and got down on the bed beside you. he got a strong arm over you and looked at you. he peppered your forehead and cheeks with kissed. a silent praise as you both tried to come back to earth.

"you did so good." he said when he was able to find the words. he also pulled you up against his bare chest.

you wrapped an arm around him and buried your face into his neck. you felt protected and loved. you were cared for in ways that you couldn't find the words for. it was comforting feeling that made you believe that any progress could be made about all the mental aches and pains.

he kissed you on the lips once more and said, "i love you." <3

[project-sekai-facts]

I'm just gonna leave this here because I feel like I should say something. Mizuki is trans, I still agree with the stuff I said a month ago. Did they say it in the story? No. Were they ever going to say it in the story? Well it seemed like I was but they just pulled the most insane 4 year queerbait.

Did people warn me? Yes, and I probably should've listened more, but from a writer's perspective what happened in Ena5 is very stupid so I had a little bit more hope for clpl. Confining any sort of actual coming out scene to a card story and fading to black over the actual reveal is honestly just cruel. Not to mention that Mizuki's bio is probably locked as "gender: ?".

Mizuki is still a trans character and trans representation, though the lack of actual confirmation really sours her story. Especially since the only indirect confirmation of her identity as a woman comes from student a talking to Ena about Mizuki (the whole Ena is a "normal girl" thing). Having Mizuki being robbed of her chance to come out by transphobes, and never resolving this so her bullies are left as the only credible source of her gender is atrocious. Mizuki being outed was a crucial plot point, to never resolve just leaves a bad taste.

It's still a glaring issue that clpl is trying to play both sides here. Which has always been an issue with things like white day and other marketing featuring Mizuki and the boys together. It's just gross that they're still trying to do it now, cutting off the actual reveal of Mizuki's secret and having the characters say "Mizuki is Mizuki", something that's often used by people who want to deny any trans reading, and a new area conversation about Mizuki's voice. Remember that old area convo about Mizuki having a lower voice. It gets referenced in a new one.

The reveal of the secret itself, transness aside, is comedically bad. Project SEKAI's writing isn't exactly amazing by any means, it's pretty basic in the grand scheme of writing, but this is worse than a lot of their other worst offenders. Building up to this big reveal of a secret that is incredibly important to one character's development, only for it not to actually be revealed, and probably never mentioned again, is ridiculous. It feels like a last minute change to ensure mass appeal but I don't know if it was. If it was, they still failed because some fans are dissatisfied that they never got told what it was, regardless of what they think it was.

And no, it's not corporate meddling. Probably. From colopale, maybe, from Sega, honestly probably not. Sega has other franchises and games with queer and specifically trans characters so it's not like Mizuki would be harmful to their brand image. If anyone interfered it was other staff at colopale.

Anyway, I'm not quitting the game and I'll still be running this blog for the time being. Not saying you have to continue playing and I totally understand people who are dropping the game over this. If anyone wants to add their thoughts to this post or send an ask freel free to.

[luxcuriousao3]

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his ass as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that elongated in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession

TW: stalking, home invasion, emotional manipulation, obsessive behavior, Simon in his stalker era

The first bouquet of lilies appeared on your doorstep two months ago, crisp and white, with no note attached. At first, you thought it was a mistake. Maybe a neighbor’s anniversary or a delivery error. You even asked around, but no one claimed them.

The second bouquet arrived the following Friday, just as pristine and silent.

By the fifth, unease began to settle in.

Then came the notes.

The handwriting was precise, the words simple: “You looked beautiful today.” “The world doesn’t deserve your kindness.” “I see you.”

You told yourself it was harmless, a misguided admirer, nothing more. But deep down, you knew better. Each note felt like a pair of eyes on your back, a shadow stretching too close.

Simon was the last person you suspected.

You didn’t know him well—no one did. He was a phantom, his face always hidden beneath that mask. You’d worked with him a handful of times, enough to catch glimpses of a sharp mind and a colder demeanor. He was a man of few words, fewer smiles, and no visible vulnerabilities.

Yet somehow, he had decided you were his.

It started subtly: a fleeting glance that lingered too long, his voice softening when he spoke your name. Then the coincidences—running into him during your evening walks, finding him already at the café you frequented. Always nearby, always watching.

You tried to ignore it, brushing off the unease with excuses. But tonight, all those excuses evaporated.

You woke to silence, the kind that presses down on your chest and suffocates. Something was wrong. Your apartment, usually filled with the ambient hum of life, felt still.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, scanning the room. The shadows were where they should be, the clutter untouched. Yet the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

And then you heard it: a faint creak of a floorboard, too deliberate to be a trick of the wind.

Your pulse surged as you reached under your pillow, fingers brushing against the knife you’d started keeping there. You slipped out of bed, your movements careful, your breathing shallow.

The hallway stretched before you, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the blinds. You followed the sound, each step a battle against the growing dread coiling in your stomach.

When you reached the living room, you froze.

Simon stood there, his skull mask catching the faint light. He was utterly still, a predator who had been waiting for his prey to notice him.

“Simon,” you breathed, the name heavy with disbelief and fear.

He turned slowly, his movements measured. His hands hung at his sides, empty, but his presence was suffocating.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” he said, his voice low, almost regretful.

Your grip tightened on the knife. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

He took a step toward you, his head tilting as if you’d asked a question he didn’t quite understand. “Keeping you safe.”

“By breaking in?!” Your voice shook, anger and fear warring within you.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone soft. “You don’t see how exposed you are. How vulnerable. The world isn’t kind to people like you.”

Your stomach churned. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? The flowers, the notes—they were from you.”

Simon didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze boring into you. “Everything I’ve done was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” you spat. “You’re the one I need protecting from!”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, something flickered behind the mask—hurt, maybe. “I’d never hurt you,” he said firmly.

“Then leave.”

Silence stretched between you for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost pleading. “You don’t understand, love. I see what’s out there. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t have someone looking out for them. You need me.”

“No, I don’t!” Your voice cracked, but the knife in your hand didn’t waver.

Simon’s gaze dropped to the blade, then back to your eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped closer. You pressed yourself against the wall, the cold seeping into your skin.

“You won’t use that,” he said. “You don’t need to. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your skin. “You will.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a shroud. You didn’t know whether to scream, fight, or collapse under the realization that Simon wasn’t going anywhere.

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

what do we think babess??

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic

[itsmrshamilton]

No Apologies (2)| LH44

summary: the aftermath of the fallout between Lewis and Y/n. Are they willing to apologise and make up?

a/n: sorry it took so long. please engage before you leave!

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

"Mummy?" Called Leo from the backseat. His black curls were a mess from playing with them. Something he did when he got really bored or annoyed.

"Yes, my sweets?" Y/n looked up to see him in the rearview mirror.

"Is Auntie Sofie going to have popcorn there?"

"Yes, my sweets."

"And rice cakes?"

"Yes."

"And ice lollies?"

"Yes, Leo."

"What about-"

"Leo, Sofie always has your favourite snacks can you drop it!"

Leo stared at her in the mirror before jutting his bottom lip out and turning to the window. The cutest pout she's ever seen but her frustration and guilt didn't allow her to let it stick around.

She sighed to herself. He was just trying to keep himself entertained. Unfortunately, she was too overwhelmed to do that right now. "I'm sorry. Leo. Leo, look at me. Mummy's sorry about that. We'll get to Auntie Sofie's place soon, then you can ask her if she's got everything. Okay?"

Parenting definitely isn't for the weak. He stayed silent for a minute, still pouting violently.

"Okay."

The rest of the drive there was quiet except for a few sniffles from Leo. He wouldn't meet her eye in the mirror and continued to stare out the window til he fell asleep. Sofie's house was 2 hours away, but it was the only place she could go in order to take some time to think. The sky had changed to a light orange by the time she got there.

One couldn't tell that the small house actually had three bedrooms inside as well as a large living area and a small garden at the back.

It was the kind of home Y/n grew up wanting for herself. She'd spoken to Sofie about it during many childhood sleepovers. 12 years ago, she could have been upset that Sofie got to buy it first if it weren't for the fact that she had met Lewis by that point and moved into his luxurious Monaco apartment.

The door to the yellow house opened and Sofie came rushing down the path to the car. There were rollers in her black hair and her oversized shirt flapped in her haste. Y/n knew she didn't care what her neighbours thought - she probably walked to the nearest shop like this often.

"How dare you interrupt my evening plans with your emergency call." She grinned when she came to a stop on the sidewalk.

"What evening plans? Curling up on your dirty old couch with one of your dirty old cats to binge murder documentaries?" Y/n teased in return. Her own smirk twitching in amusement.

"Yeah! Best part of my week!" They laughed at that and hugged tightly. Sofie was the first to pull away and placed her hands on her hips. "Need me to go there and kick him out?"

Y/n sighed loudly. "Yes, no, I don't know yet. I just need to think."

Sofie rolled her eyes. "That's all you ever do when it come to Lewis. Think, think, think. There's never any action - proper action to sit and communicate. Look what it's led to."

"I don't want this lecture outside, Sof. Grab something to make yourself useful." She turned to the car to open Leo's door.

"How about I grab my best boy and you can carry in the rest, yeah?" She unbuckled a sleeping Leo then scooped him up and carried him inside, cooing as she went. They loved each other greatly.

Y/n watched in slight annoyance before grabbing the bags, locking and heading inside. Staying with Sofie was always a treat because they didn't get to live together during childhood due to Sofie being a product of an affair between her mother, Devi, and Y/n's father long before Y/n was even born. Everything ended messily when Y/n's mum, Lee-Ann, found out and demanded he cut all contact. But it only got worse a couple of years later when Devi turned up at the house with a very young Sofie and demanded a paternity test. Lee-Ann was nearly 9 months pregnant.

"So, what happened?" Sofie interrupted Y/n's thoughts once they were inside and settled. She was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Oh, uh, he came home at 1 this morning instead of last night. No messages, no call-"

"What an arse." Sof mumbled into her drink.

"We argued in the afternoon about him not being around, me wanting a different life and other dumb shit we've been over before."

"Y'know, I have never heard you say that you sat down and talked things over. It's always either him starting shit at the worst moments, or you." Sofie pointed out.

"Me?? I don't start arguments." Y/n sat up in surprise.

"Y/n." Sofie deadpanned.

"What? I don't!"

Sofie rolled her eyes at her sister's denial and took another sip before stretching out in search of comfort. "See, this is why you two won't work. Neither one of you wants to take the blame or understand that both of you are the problem!"

Y/n stayed silent as she stroked the cat on her lap. She wasn't a problem. If Lewis stopped doing things to annoy her, then she wouldn't get annoyed and argue with him.

"I never once saw mum and daddy argue. Did you know that? Their marriage was a mess, they didn't sleep in the same bed, they rarely did nice things for each other but they never argued in front of me. I grew up thinking my family was normal.

Lewis plans these grand dates involving yachts and passports, fucks me til my soul leaves my body and gets me flowers twice a week. Yet we manage to fight almost daily. How is my marriage worse than my parents?" Y/n was crying uglily by the end of her rant. Pathetically wiping at her wet cheeks and hiccupping to get the words out.

Sofie pulled her close and rubbed her back while the cat, now annoyed by the noise, scurried away.

"Oh, my sweet Y/n." Her heart ached for her little sister who spent all her life trying to please people.

"We try not to do it in front of Leo or raise our voices when he's in the house, but I think he knows. He knows something is wrong, and I don't want that. I don't want him to hate us, Sof." More sobbing and coughing. Sof grimaced slightly. Y/n had always been an ugly crier, but she still wasn't used to it.

"Y/n, Leo is a loving child who sees no wrong in anyone because you two raised him that way. He won't hate you for trying to hold things together for him if you have genuine intentions." Sofie sat Y/n up and held her by the shoulders. "But if you're really so worried about how it affects him, then maybe you should divorce."

Y/n sat straighter at this. While yes, she had kind of threatened Lewis with one, she didn't really think they would go through with it. She hoped a long break was what the relationship needed, and then she would go back and all would be fixed. But at the same time, she wanted things to end here as they were without seeing each other again.

Sofie watched her sister absorb her words and process. Her eyebrows met and temporarily hid the scar she'd gotten when Sof threw a toy at her in a fit of rage. Blood had dribbled down her small face, ruined her clothes while Sofie had burst into tears, and scrambled to get their dad. Lee-Ann had demanded Devi keep her away from the house for weeks, and the girls weren't allowed to play unsupervised again. Y/n forgave Sofie immediately with a gentle hug, but 30 years later, Lee-Ann hadn't.

Growing up with a single mother, a guilt-ridden father, and his spiteful wife wasn't easy, and Sofie ended up struggling with relationships in her teenagerhood and adulthood. Y/n was the only person she could rely on and give her all to. She hated watching her suffer, but more than that, she hated watching Leo grow up in the middle of this. No child deserved an unstable home. Therefore, Sofie refused to allow Y/n to do so when she had the resources and support to prevent it. Leo deserved a better life even if it came at the expense of her sister's marriage.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?"

"Hm? Yeah. I just-"

"Mummy?" Leo stood by the doorway rubbing his small eyes.

Y/n made her way to him and hoisted him into her arms. "Let's go have a bath, my sweets. Then we can have a yummy supper with Auntie Sofie, okay?"

"Okay." He replied hoarsely and lay his head on her shoulder.

Once he was bathed and moisturised, Leo sat on the bed and pulled his clothes on, struggling all the way after confidently claiming he could do it himself. Y/n watched in amusement as he moved onto his socks despite his pajama pants being on backward.

"Mummy?" He took a break from his exhausting task.

"Yes, my sweets?" She slipped on the final sock.

"When we wake up here at Auntie Sofie's, will daddy be here?" His brown eyes shone brightly with innocence.

Y/n did her best to think of an answer without showing her annoyance at the fact that her son was very used to going to bed without his father and knowing he'd be there in the morning. She did all the hard work throughout the day, taking tantrums and accidents as they came just for Lewis to be the one to be showered with kisses and praises the next morning when Leo awoke.

"We'll be staying at Aunt Sofie's for some time, my Leo. Just you and me." He looked down sadly, and Y/n could basically see the gears turning in his mind. His thinking face was exactly like Lewis' - eyes squint, lips pulled to one side, puffed out cheeks.

"So no daddy?" He whispered.

"No daddy for now, okay?" She placed a kiss on his forehead and helped him off the bed. Together they moved to the dining room.

Later that night she pulled the duvet over Leo and his toys in the queen size bed. Supper had gone down without a fuss from him and now he was buzzing with excitement to call his father. Y/n handed him her phone with the contact on screen and moved out of frame.

"Here you go, press call. Yes, that one." They video called Lewis often enough that Leo knew how to handle the device so his dad could see all of him and his toys therefore he could say goodnight to everyone.

The phone rang once before being answered. Y/n smiled sadly at her husband's eagerness.

"Daddy!" Greeted Leo. He gripped the phone with two small hands and a big grin that showed every tooth and gap.

"Hello, my boy! You look nice and cozy. Are all your teddies tucked in proper?" The two went on to talk about Leo's stuffed companions, his night with Nathan and his week at school. Lewis wasn't just catching up on the day but also the week he missed. Y/n could see how happy he was to listen to Leo stutter and ramble his way through the stories. His brown eyes were bright, framed beautifully by lashes and crow's feet. His smile was wide, spreading further to laugh at Leo's jokes. But Y/n could also see how much he was hurting during this experience. His beautiful lashes wet from crying earlier, his lips slightly chapped from lack of self-care and his throat moving constantly to swallow the lump that was no doubt sitting there. It hurt her too to see him pain but she pushed it down by thinking of the many times he couldn't see her pain because he was too far from home.

"Daddy, mummy said you won't be coming to Auntie Sofie's. Why won't you come? When will I see you?" Leo's voice trembled slightly, and Y/n froze. She didn't mean to phrase in such a way that Leo thought it was all Lewis' fault - well, technically it was, but she didn't want Leo blaming his father. Not at this age anyway. She watched as Lewis sat in baffled silence before attempting to answer his sweet son in a reassuring way. If Y/n wasn't mature enough not to talk shit about him in front of their son, then he would be the bigger person and go about this nicely, he thought.

"Champ, I promise I'll take you to school on Monday, okay? We can spend some time after school as well. How's that?" Leo smiled happily at that, and Lewis felt a light weight lift off his shoulders. "Okay, well, it's 8pm now. Time for bed, yeah?"

"Goodnight, daddy." Leo let his father bid him and each of his toys goodnight and then passed the phone on to his mum. She pressed kisses to his brown cheeks then stepped out to take a breath in an attempt to compose herself. She lifted the phone to talk to her husband. He opened his mouth, but she quickly cut him off.

"You can't take him on Monday." She said sternly. His face dropped.

"Y/n, come on. No. Y/n, you can't do that to me, please. Please. You just heard me promise him that." She watched him beg with a stern expression. He looked like he was on the verge of falling apart. In front of their child he had held it all together -put on the performance of the century. But here, in front of the woman he hurt, he sniffled and grasped for straws. She wasn't impressed.

"We're two hours away, Lewis. School won't work so I'm going to let Leo stay home for the week while I look for a local school to move him to."

Lewis was shocked to silence as a tear rolled down his face. "Why would you uproot his life this, Y/n!? This isn't fair!"

She furrowed her brows at the volume of his voice. She had a lot to say about things that were and weren't fair. But before she could list them, he began shouting some more. "I- I understand that you're upset and you have every right to be but Leo shouldn't suffer because of that. You can't punish him."

"I'm not punishing him." She grew more frustrated.

"So you're punishing me?" He asked angrily, more tears.

"I'm not punishing anyone! I'm trying to make the best decision for him while dealing with everything that went down. Your house is empty because of what you did. This is not punishment, this is the consequence of your actions so maybe you should have that about Leo suffering before you ruined our marriage!" She's trembling and she's sure everyone in the house heard everything she just yelled.

Lewis scoffed before ending the call.

Y/n spent the next hour crying in Sofie's arms on the couch. She hadn't gone back to Leo's room to check on him and soothe him just in case he was upset by the call. She couldn't handle seeing him cry for his father right now. She couldn't handle being the bad guy to him. Sofie's hand on her back made it all a little easier to deal with. The purring cat on her lap didn't hurt either. She stroked its soft back gently while she sniffled and tried to find her words.

"Y/n, I don't want to make the decision for you." Sofie started. Y/n looked up into her sister's golden eyes, slightly scrunched due to the sad smile on her face. "But Leo should not be caught in the crossfire. And I know you know that."

"But I can't stay with Lewis, Sof. I can't be like mum and force my marriage to work." Y/n whispered. The thought of living with Lewis again made her scared for many reasons.

Sofie shook her head and brushed aside the black strand that came loose. "Your mum didn't force her marriage in order to create a good life for you. She did it so she wouldn't look like a bad wife to others. She wanted our dad to be the only person who wrong and immoral in the relationship."

Y/n felt her eyes tear up once more from the memories of her childhood with her mum who did everything in her power to keep things normal. Eventually it all fell apart and Y/n didn't want that for herself. She didn't want that for Leo.

"You'll only hurt Leo if you try to make yourself blameless in this situation. I don't care if neither one of you apologises and you end up dragging each other's arses kicking and screaming to every court in this country, as long as you put that sweet little boy first."

Y/n heard the slight tremor in her sister's voice and finally realised how this all affected her. All this time she'd been thinking of herself and her hate for the man she married while ignoring the bigger pain this was causing her son and sister. Her loving sister who never blamed her for being the treasured daughter in their chaotic household. Her loving sister who sheltered her from her Lee-Ann's nasty behaviour towards herself and never spoke badly of Lee-Ann in front of Y/n. Her loving sister who soaked up every miniscule second she got with her father but also happily allowed for Y/n to spend those limited moments with them.

Y/n lunged forward to give Sofie the biggest hug ever. She'd take Sofie's advice and think things over. The cat in her lap meowed unhappily at its new position squashed between the two women. They pulled away giggling.

"I love you, Sof." Y/n smiled using her sleeve to wipe her tears

"I love you too so stop getting your snot on my furniture." Y/n giggled and sniffled. "If you're really interested in the local schools, I'll give you a list of the good private ones. Too many of them are run by cunts with tight g-strings."

"Sofie!"

"What?? It's true, they wear them to keep the sticks up their arse in place." She picked up her drink.

"You're so mean, oh my gosh." Y/n laughed.

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

On Sunday evening, Lewis was in the kitchen using the island as a desk for all his stuff - files, folders and his laptop. He'd even brought the printer down from the study because he couldn't stand to be upstairs while the house was this empty.

He reached for document being printed- an email from his lawyer helping him gear up for the divorce. He'd been on a call earlier with his accountant to start discussions about what would need to be done once the divorce papers were written up. He didn't want to do any of this. After the call with Leo and Y/n, he had cried himself to sleep on the couch. He had woken up very early on Sunday morning to a horrid headache and a worse heartache. As the day went on, his sadness turned to anger as he thought about everything. He refused to let Y/n make him feel this way and to take his boy from him like this. He'd then called his father who arranged to meet with him for lunch on Monday but suggested Lewis talk to a lawyer in the mean time to see what his options were. Lewis was more than grateful for his dad's support. He cherished the bond they had and the work they had put in to make everything work in the end. Y/n was well offside for the shit she had said about them, he thought. She would pay for every word that came out her mouth.

As soon as the printing machine stopped, the front door opened. His heart hammered in his chest when he took tentative steps to investigate and then he stared in disbelief, not sure what to do now.

Y/n stood at the door with a sleeping Leo snoring into the crook of her neck. Her lips trembled as she took a shallow breath.

"I'm sorry."

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Welp, now what?? This is not the end. Part 3 out soon.

Thanks for reading this far! Please don't forget to engage before you leave. (Asking to be tagged is not encouraged)

I do not consent to my work being uploaded onto another site or being altered, translated, fed to AI sites or stolen!!

[burreauxsworld]

Can you do a fun blurb where the reader gets a wild hair and pushes Joe into their pool one day and he wants nothing but revenge

Just know that I’d kill my bf if he ever did this to me 😂

~~~

He remembers it like it happened yesterday. The day you pushed him into the pool fully clothed, just because you had an impulsive thought. He’s been planning his revenge over since. It happened months ago, but Joe never forgot.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to get you back. It got cold in Ohio so he couldn’t necessarily push you into the pool, but he had another trick up his sleeve. He smirked as he stirred the pot of pasta sauce. He’d been on TikTok and he found the perfect prank.

He looks over his shoulder to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him. Once he saw that you were immersed into the world of TikTok, he knew it was the perfect time to strike.

He took a metal spoon, and poured salt onto it, before putting some of the sauce on it to cover the salt. “Babe, come taste this sauce. Tell me if it needs anything” Joe called out to you. Your ears perked up at that and you happily got off of the couch.

“Smells good,” you commented, and he held back from smirking as you took the spoon in your hands. He bursted with laughter as you immediately spit the sauce into the trash can. “Oh my god,” you squealed. “I’m gonna kill you!” You yell, only half joking.

He’s leaning against the counter laughing hysterically. “Gotcha!”

“What?!”

“You pushed me in the pool. I finally got you back” he reiterates. You roll your eyes. “Joseph, that was months ago” you argue and he’s still laughing. “But I got even. Don’t be a baby about it” Joe says, and you roll your eyes again.

“I don’t trust you now. I’m ordering pizza”

[eternalguk]

Before Sunday Ends | jjk. (M)

I love you the first time, I love you the last time.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : With scents of vanilla lingering in the air. With the comforting sound of Jungkook cooking. And, with a deep, unspoken connection that needs no words... you find yourself falling in love with Jungkook all over again.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, boyfriend.jk & teacher!reader (just slight references)

↠ Word count : 4.5k

↠ Warnings : flirting (you make cringe!), kissing, making out, mentions of shirtless Jungkook, mentions of food / cooking, making out, shower!sex (he fucks her from behind), unprotected!sex, a small spank for oc, mentions of hickey’s, Jungkook has a filthy mouth, Jungkook himself. (I think that’s everything, please let me know if I miss something).

↠ A/n : hi there ; happy Sunday 🤍 although it is not officially winter, the start of December usually is for me! So, as we roll into a month of wintery nights and frosty mornings, I hope that boyfriend!jungkook can bring you comfort 🫶🏻. Your feedback will be appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

The pale light of an early winter afternoon filters through the frosted windows, casting a cool, silvery glow across your cozy apartment. The faint rustle of an icy breeze stirs the heavy curtains, their edges lifting slightly to allow the crisp, earthy scent of the season to seep in.

It is a rare, lazy Sunday morning—perfectly quiet except for the sounds coming from the kitchen, where your boyfriend is busying himself.

Jungkooks back is to you as he moves about with casual grace, preparing something simple yet comforting. You haven’t even asked him what he is cheffing up, knowing he would insist it is a surprise.

The sizzle of food in the pan mixes with the occasional clink of dishes, but the atmosphere itself is quiet, serene. The kind of peace that only comes when two people are so deeply in tune with each other that words are unnecessary.

And that is exactly what life with Jungkook is.

You watch him from the couch, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and contentment. The past feels like a distant memory, the scars that once felt so raw now healed by the warmth of his love. He had been patient with you. Gentle and understanding. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word had woven you back together, piece by piece, until you felt whole again.

You stretch out with your blanket, trying to relax, but the stack of unmarked essays on the coffee table keep catching your eye. With a resigned sigh, you reach forward, fingertips just brushing through the papers when Jungkook’s voice floats from the kitchen.

“Yah, don’t even think about it,” he calls out, not even bothering to turn around.

You still, knowing you’ve been caught, and huf out a laugh. “How did you even know?”

“Because it’s Sunday and you always try to sneak in grading,” he taunts, still facing the stove as he flips something in a sizzling pan.

What is he even cooking?

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he finishes off before cracking open another window.

“I am resting. I just thought I’d get a head start…” you reply. Though the defense is weak even to your own ears.

“Mhm,” he immediately acknowledges your defence, clearly unconvinced. “What happened to the deal we made a couple of nights ago? Sundays are for us. No grading, no lesson plans, no sneaking off to answer emails.”

Speaking of emails…

“Yah! I know what you’re thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning back and propping your chin on your hand. “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk…” Your brain racks for something to taunt Jungkook about.

“Mr. Timer-for-Everything,” you teass, “Bet you’ve already set three timers for each step, haven’t you?”

You could’ve done better than this, but it’ll do.

“Excuse me, but this is a very precise art. Unlike someone, I don’t wing it.” You could almost hear Jungkook’s smile as he stirred the contents of his pan.

You grin yourself. “So precise that you can catch me reaching for my work without looking?”

Jungkook sets the spatula down and finally turns around, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Oh, his beautiful face.

“I’m good like that, babe.” He wipes his hands on a towel and walks over, stopping just in front of the couch. “Now, hand over the papers.”

You hold them closer to your chest in mock defiance, eyes twinkling. “Make me.”

Jungkook shakes his head, amusement dancing in his gaze, as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

The warmth of it had barely registered before he begins to pull away, but you quickly hook your arms around his neck, pulling him back down and deepening the kiss.

His mouth is warm and soft, and just as you feel him starting to reciprocate it with his usual energy, Jungkook pulls back with a reluctant laugh.

“Ah—wait, wait,” your boyfriend chuckles, breaking free as you frown. “My timer for the onions is about to go off.”

You snort as he scurries back to the stove, shaking your head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you time every single step. It’s like cooking is a military operation for you.”

Jungkook flashes a smile over his bare shoulder. You almost feel guilty for wearing his t-shirt, but the breathtaking view of his back makes you feel otherwise.

“Hey, it’s a form of respect for the ingredients, you know? Plus, this way I know it’ll taste good.” He glances at the sizzling onions with a contented look, before turning back to you, more serious. “Just like you know taking a break makes you a better teacher, so… no more work today, okay?”

If only your school cared this much about your wellbeing.

You bits back a smile at his soft, affectionate tone. “Okay, okay. You win.”

You were truly so blessed to have Jungkook in your life. A million reminders will never be enough.

Satisfied, Jungkook sends a boyish grin your way before returning his attention to the stove, a sense of warmth filling the room as the smell of caramelising onions and spices floated through the air. As you watch him, you feel your heart swell a little.

Sundays like this weren’t just a break—they were a reminder of everything you shared. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth more than any head start on grading.

An hour had passed and you had become bored of endlessly scrolling through TikTok. Having tried reading a book, browsing through Netflix and messaging your friends, you decided to settle for your favourite pastime. Ogling your beloved boyfriend.

Jungkook must have sensed your gaze because he turned around, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What?” he asks, his voice a low, affectionate rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“Just admiring the view,” you respond, grinning as you stretched lazily on the couch. The sunset lamplight caught in your hair, giving you an ethereal glow that makes his heart skip a beat.

He chuckles, before putting away the last dish and making his way over to you. Jungkook had insisted that he would wash the dishes today as well, not letting you lift a finger.

“I think that’s my line,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. His kiss is slow, lingering, and filled with unspoken promises. Exactly what you needed before.

When he pulls back, his dark eyes search yours, as if he is still trying to comprehend how someone like you could love him so completely. You cup his soft face, thumb brushing lightly over the scar on his cheekbone. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I love you more.”

The two of you stay like that for a moment, simply basking in each other’s presence, the world outside forgotten. Flirtatious gazes being exchanged, having an effect on both of you even years later.

Eventually, Jungkook slides onto the couch beside you, pulling you into his lap with a playful tug. You laugh, the sound bright and carefree, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you close.

You trace the tattoos on his arm with your fingertips, your touch feather-light. Each mark tells a story, and you loved how they were a part of him, just like you were now. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “Desserts almost ready, but it can wait,” he mumbles, his voice thick with the lazy drawl of a man completely at ease.

Dessert. Yes, you heard that right. Jungkook had spoilt you so much. What had you done to deserve him?

You nod in agreement, turning your head just enough to catch his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt for you in that single moment. His hands move to your waist, holding you tight, and you feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, a comforting presence that grounds you.

The warmth of the fireplace fills the room, wrapping around you like a blanket, and the world outside faded even further. All that matters is the two of you, lost in the quiet rhythm of your breaths, the gentle hum of life moving around you.

Jungkook’s kisses grow more urgent, his hands wandering, exploring, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You feel a familiar warmth pool in your stomach, a spark igniting between you that has nothing to do with the setting sun. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, ragged bursts.

“Stay with me?” he asks, his voice a soft plea, his eyes coloured with emotion.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart racing in time with his. You now feel the early winter chill spilling from the cracks in your window sill, but it doesn’t matter. With Jungkook, every chill and every breeze feels like a form of comfort.

He kisses you again, and this time there is no mistaking the intent behind it. His hands moved with a newfound urgency, tugging gently at your clothes, (his t-shirt) and you feel yourself responding in kind, your body melting against his. There’s something intoxicating about the way Jungkook touches you, so reverent, and so completely in love.

Jungkook’s fingers trace lazy patterns along your back as he pulled you closer, his gaze warm and heavy-lidded. You were both tangled up in each other, basking in the soft glow of fireplace. He lets out a sigh, his hand pausing.

“I really, really want to keep this going…” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But I keep smelling the onions from earlier.”

You blink, caught off-guard, and feel your face flush. “Then… well, go shower,” you reply, stumbling over your words. “It’s fine! There’s, um… the whole evening left.”

“Whole evening left for what?” Jungkook flirts.

“Yah~”

Jungkook laughs, giving you a look, before his lips curve up in that signature teasing smile of his. “Or…” he begins, voice laced with suggestion, “you can just join me?”

Your face heats even more, and you bite your lip, looking away. “I—uh—I mean…”

He laughs, tipping his head to the side to catch your eye. “Come on, jagi. You don’t have to be shy with me,” he says softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Besides, I think you need a break from that whole evening plan you’re making in your head.”

You let out a breathy laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “Oh, so you know my plans now?”

Jungkook nods, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I can read you like a book,” he mutters, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss just below your jaw. “And right now, that book is saying… maybe a shower with my hot and sexy boyfriend wouldn’t be so bad.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his goofiness, but you feel yourself melting under his gaze. His hand slips into yours as he sits up, pulling you with him to head upstairs.

“After all,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “we do have the whole evening left.”

“Why is this still on?” Jungkook grunts, walking you backwards into the running shower as he practically rips off your t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

You gasp, the cold finally hitting you. Jungkook smirks seeing the shirt on the floor. He was in for a ride.

His hand tightly grips your jaw in place, noses touching as his hot, minty breath fans your face. His mouth captures yours in a fast, rhythmic movement as he undoes your red lace bra he chose himself earlier today.

All you had done was suggest there was a whole evening left. And now?

Now, you are watching your boyfriend hiss in delight as he feels the warm water run over his sore muscles. Jungkook throws his head back, groaning as he presses your naked self closer to his toned body.

He turns back to stare down at you, sending a wink your way before he dips his head into the junction of your head and shoulder, pressing slow and sensual kisses up your skin. You moan whilst craning your neck, craving more of his sinful mouth as his veiny hands wrap around you.

Jungkook unhurriedly drags his tongue up your pulse point, spontaneously biting down as you reel. He continues pressing gentle kisses until he reaches your ear.

“My baby’s enjoying this, isn’t she?” he whispers with his mellifluous voice, knowing how sensitive it makes you. It sends a shiver down your spine, eyes shutting tightly which only spurs Jungkook on further. “Guess I’ve found a better form of stress relief for you. I should’ve known.”

You purr when he takes your earlobe between his plush lips, suckling the soft flesh in his hot mouth. He doesn’t miss the chance to breathe into your ear again, knowing it’ll only arouse you further.

Jungkook grabs your ass, pulling you closer. His semi-hard cock rubs against your stomach, eliciting heat to run through your core. You reach for his hair, pulling at it as you yearn for more. He groans, backing away from your neck, hovering his lips against yours. He pecks you twice before taking both of your hands and pinning them against the steamy shower wall.

You glance up to your restrained hands, pouting at not being able to touch Jungkook. He notices your pursed lips, smiling to himself at your cuteness before letting them go and cascading his own down your body to your backside.

“Can we fuck?” he asks you shamelessly as he kneads your ass with his rough hands.

“You know it’s never a no from me, baby,” you tip-toe, whispering into his ear. About time you gave him the same energy back.

You run your fingers up and down his biceps with a knowing smirk.

“God, I missed this,” he rasps in his husky voice before reaching down to kiss you intensely. Jungkook touches you all over as he grinds his built, wet body against yours in the most seductive way. The scorch water cascades down his body making him look hotter than usual.

“We literally just had sex yesterday ,” you snort whilst pulling away from him.

Jungkook isn’t pleased with your comment and he shows this by diving for your neck and biting, making you moan indulgently in his hold. Your knees buckle, but his strong grip on your hips stops you from slipping.

“Fuck, babe,” you groan out as the sting spreads. You dig your nails into his toned arms, letting him know how good you feel. Jungkook removes his mouth from your pulse point, instead pressing soft kisses against your jawline, contradicting his previous ministrations.

“You always taste so good,” he hoarsely whispers, “I’ll never get enough of you,” he adds before he joins your lips again. Jungkook mouths at you sensually, kissing you with an insatiable force that leaves you breathless when you pull away.

You throw your head back, arching into him. Jungkook knows you need more and smirks at you falling into your usual state of submission around him.

“Wan’ more,” you whine. Jungkook reaches forward and presses kisses against the column of your throat. You drag your nails down his chest, evoking a playful growl from your boyfriend.

“More?” Jungkook teases you. You quickly nod, moaning his name, hoping it would provoke him to provide you with the relief you desperately need.

Jungkook brings his tattooed hand to cup your breast in his palm, eliciting another needy moan from you. He hisses pleasurably at your lewd sigh as you twitch in his hold.

“All mine to play with, huh?” he whispers in his low-pitched voice as he fondles your breast, dipping his head down to them to press open-mouthed kisses.

Jungkook decorates your skin with dark, flourishing hickies and you can only hope that they fade before you have to return to your responsibilities.

You feel Jungkook lightly smirk against you when you let out a sultry sound.

“My sensitive princess,” he says as his breath tickles your ear, leaving you to feel more aroused and dizzy.

You physically feel your pussy gush as your body buzzes due to the unmitigated affect your lover has on you.

“Kook, please,” you whine loudly, needing to feel him inside you before you combust untouched. You crave for this man as if you haven’t just been having sex from the moment he carried you inside your bathroom.

“Wanna turn around so I can fuck my princess how she deserves to be fucked?” he sighs out against your lips before joining them together for the umpteenth time that day.

You move your hands to cup Jungkook’s cheeks whilst you gaze at him with imploring eyes, showing him immediately that you’re extremely needy.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” he exhales wistfully, smothering his lips with yours again for an all too chaste kiss.

Jungkook tilts his head further to nibble on your plush lower lip, his skillful tongue.

“Want you in me, baby,” you prompt him urgently, “wan’ your big cock.”

Jungkook is quick to comply, hastily tightening his grip on your waist, “Go on then baby, turn around for me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, shifting so your face presses to the fogged wall of the shower. You glance over your shoulder fleetingly, admiring your boyfriend’s personable build.

His perfectly sculpted body that glistens underneath the water, jet black hair cut sexily short, beautifully tattooed arm and damn eyebrow piercing he got recently has you feeling giddy all over again, the same intoxicating effect from your college days together.

You can’t wait to marry this man.

Jungkook sweeps his wet hair back and you moan again, the heat of the shower water making him more delectable than before. The most erotic thoughts flood your mind and you grow more impatient, anticipating his next move.

He catches you staring at him and a mirthy smile graces his face as he grabs hold of his length, pumping himself a few times. His tip painfully glints a burning red and it leaves a heavy ache in your core, making you press your legs together to provide yourself with temporary relief.

Jungkook catches you off-guard, grabbing hold of your hips and yanking you back so your ass presses against him. You jump at his sudden attack, peeking behind only to see him wear a shit-eating grin on his face.

He drags the palm of his large hand down your smooth back, relishing in your silky smooth skin. “So fucking sexy,” he mutters, “and all mine.”

Reaching for your ass, he slaps it playfully, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

“Kook, please,” you groan out of frustration. He softly apologises before rubbing his hard-on against your ass, stepping closer to press the length of his girthy cock against your soaked folds. The sensation is strong enough to bring you back to reality.

Jungkook is going to fuck you and fuck you good.

Your legs part on their own as you arch your back, offering your ass to your husband shamelessly.

Jungkook curses at the salacious scene before him, pressing his cock further into you and somehow growing harder.

“Fucking incredible,” he rasps with his mellow voice, “ready?”

“Jus’ fuck me, Kook. You’ve got me all soaked.”

“Fuck, so hot,” Jungkook groans as he rubs the tip of his hard cock up and down your dripping pussy. He reaches your hole, teasing it as you moan for him to give you more.

“Gonna stretch you out so good, baby,” he mumbles more to himself, goading you with a gentle pressure that’s enough to rile you up.

“Quickly,” you urge him once again by arching more and wiggling your ass against him, tired of his unnecessary teasing.

Your boyfriend finally decides to push against you, sliding his cock past your folds, burying himself deep within you. The two of you groan at the lewd feeling.

Jungkook lets out a guttural moan as he watches the view of him entering your tight pussy. He hears you let out the most sinful sounds as you bask in the feeling of him filling you up whole.

“Jungkoook...”

“Fuck, the way you moan my name,” he breathes out as he buries himself to the hilt, hips rolling into you with the deepest of strokes.

Jungkook fits into you snuggly, grinding in you with small and precise thrusts. His fingers dig into your hips, his eyes fixated on the soft and plump swell of your ass.

He groans satisfyingly, watching his cock slip in and out of you easily, hard thighs rubbing against the back of yours in the most euphoric way.

“J-Jungkook, fuck, always so big.” You whimper, your entire body craving more of him.

“But my good girl takes it so well, doesn’t she?” he praises you, shutting his eyes underneath the hot, steamy water. Jungkook gasps, dipping his head into your shoulder and letting it rest there as he begins to smack his hips into yours relentlessly. He feels your walls flutter and tries hard to contain his load and not shoot it inside you just yet.

“Moree..” you plead, body shaking with utmost pleasure.

Jungkook complies, going deeper as he hits the best spots inside you. You press your temple against the tiled wall as he fucks you with languid, steady strokes. You feel his cock throb inside you, moaning his name again.

“Harder..” you mewl, compelling him to growl as he provides you with forceful thrusts, letting out the most animalistic of growls when he hears you cry out in delight. His tattooed arm reaches forward, veiny hand gripping your breast, pinching your hardened nipple as he presses sloppy kisses just behind your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so hard everyday,” Jungkook pants, thrusting with more fidelity as your walls pulse around him, “for your wellbeing of course,” he swears breathlessly.

You’re so caught up in being pleasured, you don’t even laugh at his joke.

He knows you are getting close and snakes his other hand down to your clit, rubbing vigorously as he drives you closer towards the edge, eliciting the most whiny moans out from you.

“Mmm, Koo’ you feel so, so good,” you cry out as he rams his cock further into your wet mess, groaning at the sensation. His delicious abuse on your engorged clit makes you hiss out in pleasure.

“Your wet pussy feels so good, baby,” Jungkook moans out as he continues his onslaught, pulling you back onto him.

“Holy shit, Jungkook,” you whine, knees buckling at the savouring drag of his appetising length.

“Right there, baby?”

“Oh God, yea..” you moan, nodding your head incessantly.

You mewl again, arousal spilling out of you, but Jungkook fucks it right back in. He pinches your nipple again whilst simultaneously teasing your clit. Jungkook sucks a hickey on your shoulder blade, cum aching his heavy balls as he pumps into your soaked walls.

You throw your head back onto his shoulder, stretching your hand to tug at the short tendrils of his hair. Jungkook knows exactly what you mean without you having said any words.

“Wann’ see you, baby,” you whimper, “need to feel you more..”

Jungkook groans at your neediness, pulling out of you fairly quickly, both of you wincing at the loss of warmth. He wastes no time in turning you around and lifting you up, deeply penetrating you again as he continues with the same, brisk pace as before. You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you so your foreheads touch.

“All mine,” he growls, “only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you purr, “all yours to fuck.”

Jungkook moans deeper as you begin to grind against him, clinging onto him firmly as you attempt to alleviate the burning pressure that shoots through your core. He knows you’re closer than ever, hearing your moans turn into gasps.

“Fill me up first, babe,” you manage to whimper out of yourself. You crave to feel full of his cum, squeezing against him to urge him more.

“Ah shit!” he grunts, orgasm hitting him as his hot cum shoots inside you, painting your insides white, shoving his face in your shoulder.

Jungkook sneaks his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him as he repeatedly pecks your pulse point. He is mindful of your sensitivity, allowing you to relax before he picks up his pace again.

“Wanna ruin you, my love.”

You’re at a loss of words, the only thing on your mind being that you’re once again being fucked full of Jungkook’s cum. He reaches down to place more hickies on your neck as his eyes remain glued to where you both connect. He watches your stomach clench and relax with pleasure, throbbing hard he fears he might shoot his second load into you before you can have your first release.

You sob and wail, clutching onto him further. Jungkook snakes his hand back down to your clit, rubbing against it as he tries to urge you to squirt around his cock.

“Close?” he asks you as he grunts, rubbing your clit harder and faster. You inform him yes through quick nods, eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure overtakes you completely.

“Come all over me, angel. All over my cock,” he demands with a growl against your open mouth, rutting against you in a frantic manner.

You clench down on him as you release with a mix of your boyfriend’s names and curse words. You ride out your climax with him and he puts less pressure on your clit as he watches you in your throes of pleasure.

His confidence shoots up, smirking at the way you scream his name over and over whilst squirting out both his and your mess.

“Fuck, that was incredible.” You’re breathless as you carefully slip out of his hold, leaning against his broad chest for support.

Jungkook pulls you into him, pressing soft kisses against the crown of your head as he praises you for how good you were for him. Your chest swells with pride, feeling shy as you curve further into his warm body.

He reaches to turn the shower off, dipping his head down to litter soft kisses over the hickies he made. You pull him back to face you with his hair and he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

You feel him still slightly hard against your stomach and chuckle to yourself.

“Wanna fuck me again, baby?” you ask him with suggestive eyes, “Bedroom though, I can’t stand here any longer.”

Jungkook gulps, nodding his head fervently.

“Fuck, you’re in for it, Mrs. Jeon,” is all that leaves his mouth. You become shy as you hear you favourite nickname.

Jungkook flashes you his signature smirk before abruptly lifting you and taking you towards your shared bedroom, whispering all he’s going to do to you.

The things you do before Sunday ends.

Thank you for reading 🦢! Please do leave me some feedback; it motivates me to write 🫶🏻. Have a lovely week ahead. Sundays can be so difficult for me, so I hope this makes you feel better if you also get the Sunday scaries :)

[gotorux]

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Author note: This is my first time writing anything. If there is any mistakes bear with me. I had asked for requests and got an anon asking for a fight with Gojo that ends in comfort. 1.2k words

"How many late nights has this been?" you asked, as your boyfriend got yet another call from the higher ups for a mission only the great Satoru Gojo could handle. He just grinned, that infuriatingly charming grin that could melt the toughest of glaciers, but right now, felt like a slap in the face. "Just a little field trip," he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Couple of energy drinks and I’ll be fine.” 

His casualness always grates you, he never seemed to take any of your concerns seriously. This wasn't "a couple of energy drinks" kind of situation. This was another cursed spirit, another scary experience that he brushed off like a stray piece of lint on his pristine white shirt. You'd seen the exhaustion etched onto his face, the way his usually vibrant blue eyes held a dull, weary glimmer. He’d been pushing himself too hard, running on fumes for months. The casual jokes, the lighthearted dismissals of his lack of sleep…it wasn't funny anymore.

"Gojo, this isn't funny," your voice finally cracked, holding a sharpness to it that you hadn’t intended to leak through. His carefree attitude crumbled a fraction at your words, a flicker of something akin to guilt crossing his features before he replaced it with his usual arrogance.

"Relax, sweetheart," he said, his tone dismissive, making your blood boil and that tiny little vein on your forehead pop. "I'm invincible. Worrying about me is a waste of your time."

That was it. He brushed your concerns off again and the dam broke. “A waste of my time?" Your voice rose, not something that was common with you. You were usually so chill, so relaxed and Gojo loved that about you. But right now you were anything but. 

“You're talking about your life, Gojo! Your life! And you treat it like a child's game! I'm worried sick about you all the time, and you're making jokes! You're pushing yourself to the brink, and if something happens—"

"Something's not going to happen," he cut you off, his voice rising in irritation. "I told you, I'm fine. You don’t need to baby me."

He didn't mean to worry you. He never meant to. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t trust in his capabilities. He’d never been hurt before, sure he was tired from time to time but he was the strongest for a reason. The world needed him. 

"Then don’t act like a child!“ You immediately regret the words as they leave your lips, you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t mean it, it was just words spilling out from frustration. You could see his usual playful smile harden into a thin line that you don’t think you’d ever seen. Your heart pounded against your rib cage and the silence in the air was palpable. 

He didn't say anything. He just turned, his back stiff, his shoulders tense, the tell-tale signs of barely contained fury you don’t think you’d ever seen on your lover. He didn't look back. He just left, the slam of the door echoing the shattering of your heart.

The silence that followed was deafening. The apartment, usually vibrant with laughter and love, felt empty, hollow. A heavy blanket of dread settled over you, suffocating you with its weight. You sank onto the sofa, staring blankly at the empty space where he’d been standing just moments ago. Where did he go? Did he just…leave? Was that it? Was this the end?

Hours blurred into a nightmarish haze of worry as you silently cried into a couch pillow. Your phone remained stubbornly silent as the worst thoughts clawed at your mind. He hadn't even tried to call. He just left. The irrational fear of losing him gnawed at you, an ache that threatened to consume you whole.

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t. You just lay there, awake, tears dried up and unable to fall anymore. The thought of a world without him was pretty unbearable, but it was the only thought ticking away inside your head. 

——

The first hint of dawn painted the sky a pale, washed-out grey. You hadn’t been able to force yourself to move or function for what seemed like forever. You’d barely got any sleep, the knawing thought just clawing at your mind over and over. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a soft knock on the door. Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded a frantically against your ribs. You tiptoed to the door, your hand trembling as you reached for the knob. You braced yourself for anything, except what you found. It was him.

He stood there, his usual bright blue eyes shadowed with fatigue and what was it, maybe guilt? He looked…smaller somehow. Which was seemingly impossible given his tall stature. But here he was, the invincible Satoru Gojo was gone, replaced by a weary young man burdened by something more than cursed spirits.

He said nothing, just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his usual radiant smile replaced by a frown. You opened the door, letting him in.

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice choked with sadness.

He walked towards you, his movements almost hesitant. He reached for you, tentative at first before his long arms wrapped around you and held you against his chest. 

"Look, ” He finally spoke, voice softening in apology, “I’m sorry," he said, and you could hear all the regret laced in his apology. "I was being an idiot."

You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat. The scent of his cologne bringing the slightest comfort to you.

"I was so scared," you admitted, your voice trembling against his chest. "I thought…I thought you were like…leaving me. I don’t wanna break up.” 

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his big hands, his thumbs gently wiping away tears that had escaped your eyes without you even realizing. "Never," he said, a crinkle in the lines of his forehead showing his absolute seriousness. "Never." He repeated. 

"But…" you started, though he cut you off.

"I know," he started, lifting a hand from your cheek to run it through his tousled white hair. "I know I‘ve been pushing myself. You’re right. I just don’t know what else I’m supposed to do? I’m all the way at the top and there’s nobody else here to take any of the burden ya know?” 

“It’s not just the missions,” you replied softly, "It's everything. It’s your disregard for your own well-being, your tendency to brush off things that hurt you. I know they need you, I know you’re the strongest I just…I don't want you to be invincible, Gojo. I want you to be…safe. I want you to be happy."

He smiled. “I am happy,” he said, running a thumb over your bottom lip. “As long as I’m with you.” 

You looked up at him, pouting slightly. He was always so god damn charming even in the most serious of moments. "Okay," you whispered, "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. I know okay? I know there’s nothing I can do about the missions, but- just…I don’t know, let me help you. Let me take care of you okay?” 

He looked down at you, your adorable pouty expression making it impossible for him not to lean down and press his lips to yours, which he does. He kisses you, and in that kiss lays bare a promise to do better, be better; because frankly he couldn’t lose the best thing that’s ever happened to him. You.

[cabinetofquriosities]

The Ritual

Agatha x Reader || Warnings: Smut, violence

Done for an exchange with @marril96 who made this gifset as a preview for my upcoming detective Agathario fic. Check her stuff out!

Agatha hadn’t been able to use her magic for months.

She couldn’t sense a hex or a binding spell. If there was one, it was intricately done. No, there was a block. Regular people had the flu, witches had blocks. It wasn’t often and it typically never lasted more than a few days.

It was sometimes brought on by being near overpowering magic while your own was unstable. Other possible causes were new overwhelming emotional changes, mental torture, or lack of practice for more than a few decades. It was often psychosomatic, caused by the mind rather than anything external.

Agatha had never suffered from it, given that her major life changes were almost immediately followed by absorbing the powers of a coven. Nicky died, she created the con of the road. Rio left her after brief reunions, she would find more witches to use. The pair had finally let go of one another decades ago, so it couldn’t have been Rio.

When she met you, though, her entire world shifted. She was finally feeling grounded by someone who wasn’t running off for a greater purpose like her ex did. You both made each other your purpose.

She had plunged the depths of her mind to figure out what the cause of her block was, but couldn’t find anything. She researched every text on the subject of blocked magic. All it said was to find the cause and make peace. Agatha had always considered peace to be overrated.

Agatha had moved in with you a few months prior, right around the time of her magic freezing up. You both lived in an old victorian at the edge of the woods. You found yourself holding her at night, whispering words of comfort in her ear. You would help her look for answers while reading up on your own healing magic. You supported her the best you could. She was happy with you, but incomplete without her purple. It was a new thing for Agatha to feel happy and to feel powerless. Both were unnatural states for her.

One day, you were working on a new healing salve as the sun set outside. You plucked a bloom from the dried flowers you had hanging over the kitchen island amidst the pots and pans. You dropped it into the boiling water, watching the color change.

A crash yanked you out of your focus. You froze, conjuring a ball of energy in your palm as you listened for a possible threat. Instead, you heard a familiar groan. You extinguished the orb before running to the source of the sound.

Agatha had collapsed after opening the door. Blood poured from a wound in her side. She had bruises and cuts all over her form. You knelt down, moving her onto her back so you could get a better look at the damage.

“What happened?!” you asked in a panic.

Agatha let out a pained wheeze. Your heart raced and your chest tightened.

Agatha coughed up some blood before saying, “A warlock… he followed me from the magic shop in town… he knew who I was. Wanted to… be the killer of the witch killer.”

As if she had summoned him herself, a tall man appeared in the doorway. He was unable to come inside due to the sigils surrounding the house. He smiled and laughed.

“A healer? Oh, this is going to be far too easy. I am surprised the great witch Agatha Harkness couldn’t find a protection witch to keep her s-“

You cut him off with a powerful beam of destruction shooting out from your palm. So many mistook healers for being peaceful or having passive magic. They didn’t realize that such witches also held command of the opposite end of the spectrum. While you could heal, you could also harm more harshly than other types of witches. It was the balance of magic that some so easily forgot.

The warlock landed in the dirt like a ragdoll. You stepped out onto the porch, looming over him. He winced, opening his mouth to say something before you shot him with another blast, holding this one until it left him a blackened husk of meat.

Once your were assured of his demise, you ran back to Agatha’s side. She wasn’t doing well. You knelt down, having a second look at her injuries. She gasped sharply in pain as you moved her shirt up enough to see the wound. It was definitely one that could prove to be fatal with how much blood was being lost. You were too far from any hospital, so you would have to find a way to somehow heal an injury that was damn near impossible to do with magic.

You were a healer, yes, but you were a healer of witches. You could only help so much with fixing regular people, especially when they were harmed by a witch or warlock. With witches, she could channel her magic into theirs to heal their bodies. The fact that Agatha no longer had access to her power meant that you couldn’t save her life without going to extreme lengths. Even then, there was only a chance of success.

You stood up and ran to the kitchen, leaving Agatha on the floor in the entryway.

“Oh no… it’s fine… I’ll stay right here…” she called.

You would have smiled if not for your fear. As long as she was being her sarcastic self, she was still alive. You already had half of the concoction done since you had been working on healing salves already, but the substance itself wouldn’t be enough. It needed a ritual to go along with it.

You threw in more ingredients and let them boil as you ran to the living room to retrieve candles. You rapidly and clumsily set them down in a circle around your girlfriend. You noticed her eyes had drifted closed. Your stomach dropped and you bent down, shaking her awake. Agatha woke, groaning in pain.

“Owww! Damn it!” she scolded.

“Good! Keep yelling at me. Keep your eyes open. I’ll be right back,” you said before running off.

She did just as you said, finally following orders for once. You ripped a page out of one of your spell books. She loudly complained about everything she could as you brought the serum, gemstones, matches, and chalk out. You set them all down and got to work. You drew sigils in chalk between each candle before lighting it. The gemstones were placed in a specific order.

You consulted the torn page that detailed the ritual. You had never attempted this ritual before. It was too risky for both parties involved. If it went wrong, your own form could be drained of life along with hers. Agatha, who had been bitching just a moment before, recognized the preparations.

“No…” she said.

“Yes,” you said back while lighting the final candle.

“No… there has to be another w-“

“This is the only way.”

“My love, you can’t…”

“I can and I will,” you said with an assuredness that you weren’t sure you completely felt.

You moved into the circle with her, stripping her clothing from her. She gasped and winced, but neither of you had the luxury of being delicate. You carried on, taking the serum and pouring it from the pot over her torso, coating the injury. Her back arched as she screamed out in pain. You hated that you were unable to let it cool properly. The salve instantly healed the burns caused by the boiling temperature. She passed out from shock, but you slapped her awake.

“Agh! What the fuck?!” she yelled, “You couldn’t have BLOWN ON IT or added ice before giving me THIRD DEGREE BURNS?!”

“Oh, hush, they’re already gone,” you chided.

You began chanting in Sumerian as the energy around them shifted. The ritual was older than most, something that was created before Latin. The candles would be the first measure of how it was working. The flame shrank to nearly nothing, signifying a lack of effectiveness. A second passed before the wicks re-ignited with bursts of fire. You felt your body relax slightly as you kept chanting.

You then changed your chant, moving to her wound. You hovered your hands over it as they glowed. The imbalance of power created a vacuum, with Agatha’s lack of magic causing your own to begin breaking down. Your face began to lose color and your arms shook. The gemstones vibrated against the wooden floor as a warning that you swiftly disregarded. Agatha realized what was happening, watching your lips turn blue as her own body began going cold. You doubled over, your face close to her shoulder.

“S-stop,” she whimpered, wanting at least one of you to survive the ritual.

You simply kept chanting, even as your voice constricted. Agatha brought her hand up and cupped your cheek. You turned your head to face her, knowing in that moment that you would rather die with her in an effort to save her than sacrifice her to save yourself. The only way out was through, for better or worse.

You leaned into her touch as your skin began to warm again. You watched pink returning to her lips and cheeks. The wound was also beginning to heal slightly. You could tell from Agatha’s smile that you looked better as well. You finished the chant and looked back at the page showing the steps of the ritual. A sly smile tugged at your lips.

“I doubt we will have an issue with this part,” you said.

“What do you mean?”

You didn’t answer as you hiked up her loose skirt. You said an incantation before bending Agatha’s legs. You leaned down, your eyes gazing into your girlfriend’s as your tongue slipped inside of her. Agatha whimpered before arching her back. She shook from the shooting pain of the wound, but the pleasure outweighed it.

You slid two fingers into her, curling them with every thrust. You needed to bring her to the peak of pleasure to essentially give her body a jump the way you would a car. It would give Agatha a magical influx on par with adrenaline in combination with electric shocks to the chest. With nothing to work off of on Agatha’s side, you had no clue if you would survive this. Her climax could restore her or it could drain you both depending on what the universe allowed.

Although you would never tell Agatha for fear of giving her a fatal case of performance anxiety, Agatha was familiar enough with the ritual to know the stakes. She looked down at you with so much love. She had been so terrified of having someone who she loved like this in her life, but this risk you were taking for her cemented what she should have already known. You were devoted to her more than anything and would never leave. As that realization clicked into place, something finally changed within herself.

Just as you were beginning to feel another drain, Agatha’s body began to emanate energy. The magic rushed through her, finally flooding in after months of being blocked. Her acceptance of you as a constant in her life sparked it.

You could taste the power restoring itself as you devoured her. You sucked aggressively on her clit as your fingers thrusted faster. Both of your eyes locked, your magic balancing with hers. The wound healed with a blinding glow, closing completely with her orgasm.

She had never looked more beautiful than she did in that moment with her energy visibly engulfing her. Shades of purple licked at the outline of her form. Her eyes shone with violet and gold. Her walls clenched and pulsed around your fingers.

One candle flame extinguished itself after another. The stones stilled. The aura of Agatha’s power absorbed back into her. She took a shaky breath, lifting herself up on shaking arms. You crawled over her before kneeling, straddling her lap. Your palm rubbed over her now unharmed skin. You couldn’t believe it had worked.

Her hands held your face and guided you to look at her. You beamed at her like you had fallen for her all over again without knowing.

[yzzaqczec]

Beneath the moons glow

Idea: @sametsyun

Once, there was Y/N, a divine being created by the gods to watch over the moon. She was an angel with a silvery glow, her presence a soft luminescence among the vastness of the cosmos. The moon was her kingdom—silent, serene, and lonely. She spent her days attending wishes of the mortals below them. Their hopes whispered up to her through the night, which sounded all the more silent with them, till she heard their promises of the soul.

Except that one who came often was making her heart beat with something which she could not identify.

Lucifer, that was his name and was a fallen angel driven from Heaven long ago. Every time he would come to her place, that always would carry the promise of more than words: the excitement of seeing what the visitor may bring - small things- a bunch of ducks, flowers in star shape, anything whimsical and sweet. Y/N in turn gave the man her wishes for trivial things, moments of glee, for laughter. Alone no longer was Y/N in the company of her visitor. The days turned to months, and the months grew into years. A quiet affection for each other blossomed.

Their bonding grew in the silent nights that were lit by the moon. Lucifer never asked for anything extravagant, and Y/N would always find herself wanting to provide him with whatever he desired. She had fallen in love with him, although she did not know what to call it. Love? She never dared to ask, but she knew he was of the same thought. He smiled every time he saw her his smile shines brighter than the stars in the sky. She would do anything for him, and so did he seem.

Then one day, Lucifer just stopped coming.

Initially, Y/N thought it was just nothing. "Why haven't you come by? I wait for you each night, when the stars shine bright and the moon protects us both. Was this something I did?" she silently asked the empty moon.

Days became weeks, then weeks turned into months, all without him. She still waited, lonely and clueless. She searched the heavens for him, but he was nowhere to be found. She could not help but wonder whether something had happened, whether she perhaps had done something wrong. "Had I failed him in some way? Did he no longer want me to grant his wishes?" Her heart felt heavy as the cycles of the moon increased, and she began to feel a deep sadness that no star could chase away. The only solace was the fact that one day, he would return, and everything would be okay.

One day, Lucifer showed up. His smile was as broad as ever, but something was different. It did not feel the same. The warmth that once seemed to emanate from his presence was now gone, replaced by an emptiness that cut deeper than she could have imagined.

"Y/N" he greeted, the name slipping from his lips like a familiar song, but with a hollow tone. He handed her a small, delicate gift wrapped in glistening paper, but there was no joy behind his eyes.

Y/N heart skipped, her hopes rising for a moment. "It’s been a long time," she said softly. "I’ve missed you."

Lucifer's eyes flickered briefly, then he quickly covered it with a chuckle. "I've been busy. But I've come to ask for a wish."

Her heart leapt, and she smiled. This was it, she thought. "Maybe this is the moment we return to what we had before. Maybe it'll be like it once was." But his words shattered that fragile hope.

He asked for something that felt wrong, something that was against the very rules she had been bound to since her creation. It was a wish that involved breaking celestial laws. She hesitated. "This. This is too much. I can't grant this, Lucifer." But his eyes, those eyes she had trusted for so long, looked at her with something she couldn't place.

"You think I forgot you? You think I stopped caring? No, Y/N. I couldn't forget you. But the moment I walked away from the moon, I knew I'd lost something I couldn't get back," he said, his voice laced with guilt.

She felt the weight of his words, but despite her doubt, she couldn't refuse him. Her heart—"I would do anything for him,"—knew no better. With trembling hands, she granted the wish, though it was wrong, something that she knew she should not do.

What she did not know was the price with which it came.

Lucifer's trial soon followed, and Y/N was left dazed. She had been summoned to the heavenly court, where the angels looked at her with judgment in their eyes. Lucifer stood at the center of the courtroom, his head lowered in shame. And beside him stood Lilith—the one who had been with him all along, the one he had truly wanted all this time.

Her heart cracked, shards of trust and affection shattering. "You think I wanted to leave you? You think I wanted to stop visiting the moon? No. but I had no choice. Sometimes the price of freedom is heavier than you think," Lucifer had said, but his betrayal stung just the same.

As the angels questioned her, "What had you done, Y/N? What wish did you grant him?" this truth struck her like thunder—she was the one that helped him bring Lilith back.

Lucifer, in a moment of panic, pointed his finger at her. "She did it. It was her who granted me the wish."

The words cut deeper than any betrayal she could have thought of. "So this was it. All that I had given to him, all the love I thought we shared. it was nothing."

Lucifer and Lilith were punished and sent down to Hell to stay there forever. However, Y/N was not shown any mercy; however, the punishment she received was a lighter one. They said she didn't know what the wish would do. Nevertheless, she was sent out of Heaven, a beautiful home lost to her for good. She remained there, on the moon, her heart a heavy aching weight in her chest.

"You were my haven. my escape from everything. I never thought that I would ever bring about such pain in you. I thought that I was capable of handling all of this, but it was just too much," Lucifer's words echoed in her head as she looked out to the vast emptiness that the moon surface seemed to offer.

There was her on the bleak, snow cold desert landscape alone, when before she a green bunny that he'd given her years earlier stirred to life, tears fallen into its little soft frame on whose green jade-eyes sparkle lit after these final tears until she saw not alone again. Small creature nuzzled by it and she found this instant comfort.

“I thought I was doing what was right for myself, for Lilith. But now I realize I’ve lost more than I could ever gain. You were everything I needed. and I let you go,” Lucifer's voice, tinged with regret, haunted her every moment.

Years passed, eons even. The moon, once dark and empty, started changing. Lights shimmered, festivals sprang up, and laughter filled the air. It had become a place for celebration, joy, and fun, but Y/N heart still ached with pain for the love she had lost.

Her search for Lucifer never ended. She tried everything: every spell, every ritual, every prayer. But nothing seemed to work. "If you're out there, Lucifer, do you ever wonder about me? Do you ever miss the moon? Or has the Hell beneath your feet become too heavy?" she whispered, looking to the heavens, but nothing came.

One day, she realized that despite everything, she had never truly stopped loving him. "You’ll always be a part of me, Lucifer. Whether you forgive me or not, you’ll always have a place in my heart. I just wish I could show you that before it was too late."

And so, with lights and laughter still burning all around, Y/N made a promise to find him again. No matter the time it took or how long the distance was; she would find her way back to him.

And perhaps, just maybe, the stars will finally align.

---

Will post the pt2 next week:>

OKAY TOTALLY RUSHED THIS

I did not proofread this so mb if there are some mistakes, I totally added chang'e instead of y/n in some of these😭

Idea from!! @sametsyun

https://www.tumblr.com/sametsyun/742930833875353600/i-have-a-fanfic-idea-alright-you-guys-know-that?source=share

TYSM I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO THINK OF AN IDEA(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

[jellyskink]

Everything had been good for a while, too good. Not that Ford was complaining in fact it was quite the opposite. Things had started about a month ago Ford had a momentary laps in his behavior, it wasn't that bad honest it wasn't, he didn't even know why, his body just moved on it’s own. He was alone in his room doing research when IT happened. Static. Anger. He couldn't help himself his equipment was shoved to the floor Test Tubes and flasks were shattered and there contents spilled across the floor. His notes were then riped up and scattered around the room like confetti. He grabbed his desk chair and threw it against the wall, the rampage continued untill one of his precious figures of his mused knocked over braking into pieces.

(My Muse… no, no, no. How could this happen) tears pooled in his face and curled up into a small ball on the floor (he wasn't even deserving enough for his bed) rocking back and forth hands grasped around his necklace, muttering apologies to it

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't know what happened. My Muse please forgive me. I'M SORRY… I Love you more then anything you know that, you must. It was an accident. Please Forgive me.”

A hand was placed on his shoulder and Ford flinched at the touch. He was alone a second ago, he looked back at the hand that reached out to him, and saw his muse.

“My Muse… I'm so… *hiccup* sorry. Please… *Sobbing noise*... it was an accident….”

His Muses hand was released from his shoulder, and while Ford had fully expected that hand to punish him for his outburst, (after all he deserved it). What he didn't expect was the hand to be placed on his back gently rubbing small circles.

“It's okay. Fordsy. I know. I know it was just an accident and you didn't mean to. Everything will be just fine, after all… you mean so much to me.”

Did he just hear this right? His Muse forgave him. No no that couldn't be right he hasn't earned his forgiveness. He didn't show his muse how sorry he was, his food wasn't withheld, he wasn't thrown out the window, he wasn't tossed into a closet with the same song on full volume on repeat for days. He hadn't done any of that yet for this outburst, and now here's his beloved muse comforting him. Despite his better judgment he pulled his muse into a tight hug and sobbed in his arms.

“There there it's okay let it out… I know how much YOU love me.”

“Thank you, thank you. My Muse my wonderful muse thank you.”

“Any time why don't take a moment to gather your self. I'll be in the throne room come join me when your ready. Okay, and take all the time you need.”

He must be dreaming. He tried to summon a bag of jellybeans to see if he was dreaming, and when not materialized he knew he was in the real world and not the dreamscape. He smiled and looked up at the tapestries of his muse then at the posters that said “remember your here forever” and one that said “Who rescued who?” Were things starting to change?

Now that a month has passed since the incident and everything was beautiful. His muse allowed him small luxuries that he had only thought were for humans. He let him sit on the throne with him, next to him and not just on the floor by his feet. His muse also let him eat his food (which was now 100% glass and metal free) on a table and not just on a bowl on the floor. Sure he still slept on the dog bed but he was now given a blanket to help keep him warm on those especially cold nights. Everything was perfect. His muse finally loved him in return, There was no more punishments no more anger directed towards him, Ford was actually developing a healthy glow and his confidence was better even Dr. Oleander was impressed to see his change. Everything was Beautiful. If only he didn't screw everything up.

He didn't even know what he did wrong. It was the one month anniversary of his new founded relationship with his muse and everything needed to be special. Ford had spent the entire day hunting rats so he can spell out his muse name and give it to him. Ford knew that there relationship long ago had moved past the rat stage but still he thought it was a great throwback and hopefully his muse saw it as nostalgic as much as he did. Turns out giving Rats out to the love of your life at a party he threw with all of his henchmen Was not a smart idea. When the gift was presented there was laughter. And not the good kind, they weren't laughing WITH him they were laughing AT him.

Don't cry Stanford dont cry. He cried he didn't understand what was wrong he thought it was a lovely gift. And now even his muse was laughing at him.

“Aw looky here folks look how much Fordsy here loves me!”

“I do… my muse I sware, I thought this would be a good anniversary gift.”

“Anniversary? Of what. The Weirddnnaverary isn't until march.”

“Well… I… thought, it's our one month since we started dating.”

Laughter erupted. “Who the fuck said that we were dating. As if anyone could love a sad pathetic man who spends more time crying then practicing his routine for next weeks dog show. “

Wait what surely they were dating. They ate together, they curled up next to each other while Ford read bill stories while bill played with his hair, His Muse even complimented him for every little thing. He was starting to feel like an actual person again.

“Aw boss look your dog thinks he's your boyfriend, how cute. You taking him to the dog park for your next date?”

Embarrassment filled his face tears fell. He ran to his room and wouldn't come out. How foolishly was he mistaking kindness for a relationship.

*one month ago bills pov*

“Look Pyronica” his eye switched to television mode, “Fordsy here is having one of his breakdowns again. Aww look he “Loves” me oh my me like he has a chance, who could ever love him? Pathetic. You know what I have a great idea wanna see how desperate he is for affection? Can't wait to see how messed up this will make him.”

Look I did this instead of sleeping if you see spelling and grammar mistakes, ya didn't got that?

Is this what my life has become this is my 3rd fic for this au, not complaining but damn I have never been this inspired. Anyway have a nice day and thanks for reading!

This is heartbreakingggggggggggggggggg 💔

[filthyf1]

A Long Short Time

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+); Porn WITH Plot, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, slightly tipsy sex?... Not entirely healthy relationship dynamics….

Summary: Daniel and you broke up two months ago. He comes back to get the last of his things…. And the rest is history.

Word Count: 5k

Author's Notes: AHHHHHH this was so nerve wracking.... it's been so long since I've written anything so please let me know your thoughts!!!

____

Two months. A short time that felt like a millenia to you. The apartment felt emptier than usual. He wasn’t there often before, but it was more than never. Life felt slow and tedious, and you weren’t exactly adapting well. 

It had been two months since you and Daniel broke up. That felt like such a silly and simple way to explain it, but that’s exactly what happened. It was and then it wasn’t. Four years and it was over just like that. 

Daniel was let go from VCARB after the Singapore GP. The fans could tell something was wrong from his interviews, and their guesses were spot on. He’d known it was the end and given it his all, understanding that it wouldn’t be enough. His whole life came to an abrupt halt, just like that. What was the point of contracts in the first place? It felt like a crime to let him go before COTA, and yet… 

Just as his career came to a screeching halt, your relationship did as well. The comfort you thought you could give was simply not enough. Nothing you could say or do could make it right. It made sense even if it hurt. What do you do when the thing you’ve worked for your whole life gets pulled out from under you? Some people cope and move on, collect the pieces and figure out how to go forward. Some people burn the rest of the world around them and crash. 

What began as trying to comfort him turned into an all-out shouting match and ended in the door slamming behind him. 

“I can’t do this! What the fuck would you do?”

“I don’t know! Lean on my friends? Family? My fucking girlfriend, maybe?”

“Well, nothing like this has happened to you. You just get to sit around and be pretty. Life is so fucking easy for you.”

That last one stung - his sharp words certainly hit their mark. You played the conversation over and over again in your head for the past 60 days, trying to think of an alternative ending.

The movers eventually came and took his things, leaving both the space and your heart wide and empty. And that was how the past two months went. Your apartment was small, but when a whole other person’s things were removed, it felt much too large.You got to see him unwind and find himself by his own posts and his friends’ on social media. The news outlets were fucking annoying. Apparently, one of the most interesting things to report on was an F1 driver’s relationship status. And the paparazzi had exactly as much sympathy as you expected. You were sure there were at least a dozen photos of you crying floating around on Twitter, Facebook, etc. 

It was your turn to feel stuck. You felt like the last four years were a waste. What were you working towards? It was upended so swiftly and easily. You saw Daniel regaining the light back in his eyes while he attended sporting events and went dirt biking with his friends. You sat in your flat drinking wine and looking at the city lights contemplating what could have been. 

There were things you wanted to accomplish that you put on the back burner and now regretted never pursuing. Maybe once you got your spirit back, you’d go after the fashion degree or write that book that always sat in the back of your mind. Just a little bit more groveling…

What really hurt was finding things the movers missed. Little things here and there that you knew he would miss, a helmet here, a jersey there. So instead of burning them like a lot of people might, you gathered them and put them in a box. You put your big girl pants on and sent him a text, hoping it would still go through, and let him know he could pick it up whenever he was back in the city. And to your surprise, not only did the message go through, but he answered. It was the only thing you’d heard from him since he left and unfortunately, you clung to it. 

It was another Friday night that wine was your companion. Your friend had visited for a few days for some gossip and retail therapy, but unfortunately she had left earlier that day and you let the loneliness seep back in. The riesling helped dull it a little bit. You were halfway through the bottle, feeling the pleasant buzz settle into your muscles. 

Music swept through your apartment while you danced and cleaned things here and there when your phone dinged on the counter, interrupting the melody you were currently feeling. Thinking it was your friend who forgot her lipstick on your counter, you swiped the message open without a second thought. Once you read it, however, the blood drained from your face and you looked on in horror.

Be there in 20 if you’re still awake.

Okay…. Okay. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were very much not sober enough for this. The bottle of wine looked on in amusement and you glared at it, as if it wasn’t your choice to partake in the first place. That still didn’t stop you from chugging the rest of the glass in front of you. Maybe it would help you to be more relaxed or cool in his presence. You glanced at the clock on your oven.

11:20PM.

Late, but not ridiculously so. You wondered what exactly he was doing in the country. But that wasn’t really any of your business anymore. 

It was fully in your right to deny him, let him know it was not a good time to stop by. Your sober self needed 3 to 5 business days to prepare for this, but your tipsy self wanted him to stop by now. Your chest ached at the thought of seeing his face again in person. You craved it desperately. Against your better judgement, your fingers sent out a quick, “Ok.”

Oh, God, what were you doing? 

Simply put, you fucking missed him. There was no denying or getting around it.

“Fuck, this is happening,” you breathed to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, a nervous mess. You ran to the bathroom to do a once over; you looked as much a mess as you expected. Hair everywhere and eyes slightly glassy from alcohol. You swallowed hard, trying to fix things, but gave up after a minute or two.

Sitting back in your kitchen, you nursed another glass of wine. There was no going back now, so you might as well commit. A knock came a few minutes later, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“Fuck,” one more for the road. 

You approached the door slowly like a victim in a horror movie. One last hesitation, and the door swung open and there he was.

He stood tall, not at all bowed under the pressure he had experienced so recently. His hair was longer than you remembered, the curls so perfect and tangled it hurt. They weren’t yours to run your hands through anymore. You were sure you looked sad and pathetic, and he stood in front of you looking healthy and radiant, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked damn good.

A breathy, “Hi,” was all you could muster. You immediately kicked yourself internally. So much for keeping your cool. Daniel gave you a once over that made you feel hot inside and self-conscience at the same time.

“Hi,” he gave a soft smile and you nearly melted. It was such a stark difference from how your last conversation ended. You stood in silence for another few seconds, taking him in. This was how you wanted to remember him. 

“Fuck, uh, sorry, I don’t have your stuff here,” you shook yourself out of the trance. “Do you… want to come in for a minute?” You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You didn’t have a great track record with exes and them visiting your place of residence. 

“I’ve got the time,” he said. 

You’d be lying if a plethora of less than innocent thoughts were running through your head. He looked better than you remembered, and the feelings were still there, ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice.

He took everything in. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension and you wondered what he was thinking. His eyes settled on the empty wine glass and less than full bottle.

“Been drinking?” He asked and a smirk settled onto his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and you’d be lying if your mind didn’t wander. Beard burn was a hell of a drug.

“Yea,” you said sheepishly, a hand running through your hair to dispel your nerves. “There’s whiskey if you want a drink. I still have your favorite… I don’t really drink it…” You trailed off, not really expecting him to accept. You thought he would be itching to leave as soon as possible, the weight of the last conversation heavy on your mind. To your surprise, he opened the cabinet that he knew very well and grabbed the whiskey. He grabbed a glass (the cabinet never changed either) and poured himself a double. 

“Cheers,” he held the cup out. You poured the rest of the wine into your stemmed glass and clinked your glass against his. You paused, watching him down the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing and a single droplet of whiskey dripping from his lips and trailing down his neck. Sinful thoughts flashed across your eyes, but long gone now were the days where you could lick it away. You averted your eyes quickly and drank your wine in one swift gulp. Anything to distract you from the images circling through your head. 

“You’ve been doing well - at least from what I’ve seen,” you placed the wine glass down in the kitchen sink and Daniel followed suit. The heat of his body was heavy behind you, his arm right next to yours. You fought everything in you to fight freezing. Surely, he wasn’t doing this on purpose? You didn’t have much time to contemplate as his body was gone in the next moment. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter - his arms propped his body up and you chose to avert your eyes from his toned form. Two months was clearly not enough time to stop those thoughts from clouding your mind. Was it you or did he just look you up and down?

“I’ve been… okay,” he didn’t elaborate, but the silence explained enough. Maybe it was easier to put on a smile for the camera.

“You still miss it,” it wasn’t a question.

“Every day,” he nearly whispered. His warm brown eyes held yours for a second too long and you wondered if you were still talking about racing. You cleared your throat, not totally sure how to address that. 

“Things ended pretty poorly, huh,” you averted your eyes. Now was not the time to let your tears get the best of you. Your last argument was the elephant in the room and you’d explode if you avoided it for another second. There was a tightly wound bundle of resentment, pain, and anger in your stomach. You were mad at him for walking away. Mad that he seemed to get over things pretty damn quick while you were still fumbling for a grasp on things. Mad that he walked right back in like nothing happened.

“You could say that again,” he said simply. You went to speak again but he cut you off. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Your eyes shot to his. He wasn’t really one to open up and talk about things like that. He tended to take things out on the track and work through them that way. He didn’t have that anymore though, so maybe he found talking was easier these days. 

“Thank you,” you said roughly. Blinking rapidly to stop tears from coming forward. What were you supposed to do now? You never stopped loving him, but you were feeling so many other conflicting feelings at the same time. Daniel made a move as if to come forward and comfort you, then thought twice about it. He was obviously feeling a lot of things too. He cleared his throat.

“So, you said you put everything in a box?” He looked around. If things were heavy before, they weighed a ton now. 

“Um, yes, your stuff is in the hall closet. I put it in a box for you - I’m not sure it'll fit in whatever car you drove, but you can always send someone to pick it up for you,” you over-explained as you walked towards said storage. Were you delirious or was that his body heat on your back? This time it did not disappear. 

You slowed, turning to face him. He was as close as you suspected, his strong frame standing over you. His pupils were blown, his breathing slightly accelerated. You’d be a fool to deny that his scent was intoxicating. The same cologne and musk you remembered that was distinctly Daniel made your head spin. You swallowed hard and Daniel’s eyes flickered down to your eyes then your throat.

“Daniel?”

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out, his voice deep and husky. Your heart pounded hard in your chest. You wanted this more than anything. You wished he’d just kiss you already. Your body ached to feel his against yours again. It had been so long. You were both suspended in time, your eyes locked with each others’.

“I missed you, too,” you replied. He looked relieved at that, like he thought you had moved on. As if you’d ever be able to do that.

“Yea?” He was even quieter that time.

“So fucking much.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would.”

Whatever dam was once there broke in an instant. Daniel surged forward and his lips enveloped yours. You couldn’t help the groan that leaked from your throat. You missed this so much it hurt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand found the back of your neck and his fingers wrapped into your hair. His body was hot against yours, your skin searing wherever it touched his. He backed you into the wall without his lips leaving yours once. You eagerly reached your hands to his hair and pulled on the curls you missed so much which earned you a groan in return. You fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

You gulped in air as he moved his attention to your neck, his facial hair scratching you in the way you remembered. Words couldn’t describe how much you missed this. His leg parted yours to push against your clothed cunt and pin you to the wall. God, if he thought you were moaning like a whore now… He suckled hard on the soft skin of your collar bone and your fingers tightened in his hair.

Things were complicated, sure, but this was here and now. Right now you were feeling pretty damn good for many reasons and your present self didn’t care much about the potential consequences. Daniel was a man starved and you were an oasis in the desert. 

“Take me to the fucking bedroom before I strip you here,” you barely got out.

“Can do,” he replied between pressing kisses up your neck. “Not that I would entirely mind…” His strong arms moved to loop under your thighs and lift you up easily. He took a moment to hold you against the wall and kiss you again. His need was as evident as yours; you could feel him straining against his jeans. His tongue was hot and furious against yours and you feared being fully consumed by him. 

Your body temperature was running at one-thousand degrees and you felt like you were about to burst. Daniel’s tongue was wet and insistent against yours and you drank him in. Soft groans echoed from him and you could barely handle it. He carried you to your room, placing you softly onto your plush bed. His body was heavy upon yours, barely holding himself above you. You took the opportunity to roll your hips against his, eliciting a moan from both of you. You wondered if he was with anyone in your absence and then quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of your business, and you chose to believe the answer was no based on the way he was acting. 

Your hands trailed around each other; you missed the feel of each others’ bodies. Something told you that neither of you would last long. Already you feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Barely able to tear himself from you, Daniel managed to rip his shirt off. He looked just as good as ever and your mouth watered at the happy trail disappearing into his pants. 

“See something you like?” He grins evilly.

“Shut the fuck up and take my pants off,” you sigh. He did not need to be told twice. Your pants were removed in a flash leaving you in your underwear and shirt. The shirt was quickly removed after. Lucky for you, it was nearing laundry day which meant you had only your skimpiest and laciest underwear leftover. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel sighed. 

“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he leaned back in and placed soft kisses down your torso. His hands pawed your chest roughly, pinching your nipples between his fingers and causing you to keen into him. He came back to place one more kiss on your lips and captured your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at the soft, swollen skin. You rolled your hips into his again but this time he caught them and pushed his own into you to fight back. Everything with him was a delicious push and pull.

He edged back down, but not without placing wet kisses along your torso on his way there. He grabbed the band of your underwear between his teeth and pulled them off. His eyes held yours as he did so and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. The man knew how to make you blush, that was for sure. They peeled back from your dripping pussy in a way that was almost embarrassing. You didn’t miss when he took the panties and shoved them into his back pocket. 

His lips ghosted over the inside of your thighs and drank you in in a way that made you light headed. You wanted nothing more than him to put his fucking mouth to work. He could sense your urgency and gave a cheeky chuckle.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this as much as me. I’ll suck your dick if you hurry up and eat me out,” you threatened.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was warm and the pleasure shot deep through your core as soon as he ran his tongue over you. 

“Fuck,” you barely managed. Your head hit the mattress - Daniel held you tight and didn’t allow an inch for you to squirm. Your legs draped over his shoulders and your toes curled as he worked on you. The wet sounds that came from your cunt were sinful; when Daniel paused for air and to smile at you, you could see his chin glistening. He was relentless, moaning into your folds and your head started swirling. “Daniel,” you gasped and one hand clawed at his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. “I’m not gonna last - if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” he barely pulled back. Now that he had that information, he didn’t hold back and within a minute you were writhing and moaning underneath him as white hot pleasure coursed through you. He alternated between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit. His strong arms barely flexed to hold you down as your hips rolled against his tongue. He only relented when your hips stuttered as you became overstimulated. You were gasping and swearing. It was way too long since you’d felt like this. He pulled back, but only far enough to place more open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your thighs. He let you recover and kissed his way back up your body on your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and finally your collarbones and neck. 

“Sooooo, you said something about getting my dick sucked?” He asked and completely evaporated the heavy mood. You couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from you and you hit his shoulder weakly. He fell back dramatically on the bed, holding his shoulder in mock pain. “You wound me, woman!”

The light humor was nice, but it made your heart ache. You missed this so much and you realized that this ended with Daniel walking out the door. This was all a moment of passion after time apart. He’d take the rest of his things and go back to his life and you’d go back to yours. Instead of wallowing, you chose to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment that was happening in front of you. You put the smile back on your face and turned your attention back to Daniel. You kissed him deeply and softly once and ignored the slightly confused look on his face.

You pushed him back into the bed and he propped his head up by putting his hands behind his head, and you swallowed hard at his flexing biceps. He still wore his jeans so you palmed him roughly through the thick fabric which earned you a look that could kill. You licked a stripe over the coarse hair that sprouted up his stomach. He was hot and salty with sweat and you craved to take him into your mouth. 

Removing his belt slowly, you teased him; how much could he take? To your surprise, he was exceedingly patient and looked down at you with a disgusting smirk.  You pulled down his jeans and wiped said smirk off his face by placing a feather light kiss over his clothed cock. He smelled hot and musky, and you couldn’t wait to strip him completely. The pants and boxer briefs came off together and got tossed somewhere along the rest of the clothes on the floor.

He was just as you remembered. You suppressed the whine that built in your throat. He was already cocky enough; he didn’t need to know you missed sucking him off. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the rest taken care of by your hands. Another thing he didn’t need to add to his ego was his size. He was heavy and warm on your tongue with the sting of bitter saltiness from the precum that leaked from his swollen, red tip. A deep groan came from him and you looked up to see his head thrown back and his bottom lips caught between his teeth. A small ego boost for you too. 

You dragged your tongue from his base to his tip. Following the thick vein that ran up his length, you took him in again and hollowed your cheeks. He couldn’t control the groans and moans that spilled from him and one of his hands came down to wind through your hair and hold it up.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Bold of him, but you had to admit you missed this possessive side of him. You obliged him and looked him dead in the eyes but did not pause your ministrations. You let him push his hips into your mouth to fuck your throat. You were out of practice and gagged once before holding it back. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you loved it. You swallowed around his length and his hand tightened painfully in your hair. His hips thrusted against his own will and his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay… okay, stop, or I’m not gonna make it to the main event,” he breathed heavily. Still got it, you thought smugly. You released him but not before placing one last kiss on the crevice between his crotch and his thigh which earned you a satisfying twitch.

You climbed up, settling yourself on his lower stomach. This was one of both of your favorite positions. Daniel loved seeing you above him, riding his cock and finding the exact right spot that got you off. It was a position that allowed you both some control and he liked being able to see your face. You scooted back and grabbed his length, ready to position him and sink down when he halted you by catching your hips in both of his hands.

“Fuck, I didn't bring a condom,” he sighed and paused. You almost lost your mind. 

“I don't fucking care,” you moaned and pushed against him. “And I'm still on the pill.”

“You didn't stop it?”

“Just be glad I didn't and fuck me already, Daniel,” you whined. You knew adding his name would be the cherry on top of a cake he couldn't deny. He took the head of his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds to collect the excessive wetness there, and pressed himself into you slowly. The stretch ached deliciously. It had definitely been awhile. Daniel hissed between his teeth as you sunk down on his length inch by agonizing inch. 

When he was fully inside of you, you took a moment to adjust. You steadied yourself with your hands on Daniel’s chest, and he grabbed your wrists to pull you back down to him. Your lips met his in a surprisingly tender kiss that stirred things in your chest that you were having trouble keeping buried. You blinked away tears for the second time that night, but this time a warm hand came to cup your cheek and stroke the warm skin there. 

Whatever happened tonight, you hoped you and Daniel talked after this. He brought you so much joy and comfort. His warm brown eyes held yours as if to say everything would be okay.

“Okay, I’m fine. You can start moving,” you breathed out and began rocking your hips. He didn’t need to be told twice and held your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. He felt just as good as you remembered. Maybe better. The room was filled with the harmony of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your hips meeting each other. There was no sweeter sound.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he moaned. “So fucking good for me. So tight and fucking soaking. All for me,” his hips snapped to meet your movements. Him calling you baby lit a spark in your belly and spurred you on.

“Faster. Fuck me faster, Daniel,” you whined, desperately chasing your high. He complied and moved faster and harder. He stuck his two forefingers in your mouth and you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around the digits. You looked at him through your lashes and he groaned deeply. You felt deeply in your soul that only you two could have this effect on each other. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing deeper and faster, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You decided to spur him on, wanting to hear his sweet sounds and see the beautiful face he made when he reached it. You beared down on him, squeezing him and matching his rhythm.

“You’re so good, Danny. You make me feel so good,” you could barely get the words out.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to maintain his composure. Sweat beaded on his brow and shined on his chest. One hand left your hip to rub quick circles on your clit to give it right back to you. You were so sensitive from earlier that the effect was immediate. One hand flew to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but Daniel ripped it away. He wanted to hear every sound uninhibited. 

He held on until your orgasm crashed over you. You hoped you wouldn’t be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbors the next day, but would understand why if you did. Your thighs shook and you couldn’t control how you rutted against Daniel like a crazed person. That was all he could take and his hands tightened painfully into your soft skin. He bit his lips hard and his eyes screwed shut. His hips hit once, twice more before slowing. Was that a whine coming from him? God, that sound alone could make you cum again. You reveled in the bliss, slowly moving your hips to ride it out. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes after, save the heaving breathing coming from both of you. Finally, you pulled yourself from Daniel, a soft sigh coming from him. You were battling yourself on what to do next. Now that it was over… What came next? Maybe you would take a hot shower and then he’d be gone with his things when you emerged. That was usually how this kind of story went, right? At least he wouldn’t be around to see you fall apart.

You made a start to get off the bed, but a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back down. Warm arms wrapped around you and then you were laying against his overheated body, your legs draped over his like nothing had ever changed.

“Don’t go,” he said into the top of your head.

[armpirate]

Synthetic Heartbeats (Part 2) || San

pairing: Robot!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 7.6k

Warnings: [Sexual] Smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, choking, explicit language, angst. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: After loneliness has hit you, you decided to create a companion through an AI project you had left pending after failing with it. SAN is a new technology robot, able cover up your needs before they were obvious, giving you the fake human support you were looking for. Although, maybe that human support isn't as fake as you thought and SAN is able to cover up more needs than you could ever think of...

Aprox. time of reading: 35 minutes

MASTERLIST

PART 1

The workshop was still, bathed in the soft, flickering glow of the monitors. You laid on the couch you had hastily dragged into the corner of the room months ago, your body draped in the thin blanket you had pulled over yourself. SAN sat at the edge of the couch, silent but present, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and something you couldn't quite define.

You looked at him, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts you hadn't yet begun to process. What you shared minutes ago was... unexpected, to say the least. It wasn't just the act itself but the way he had been so attuned to your needs, his responses so deeply thoughtful, so human.

"You weren't just... mimicking," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper.

SAN tilted his head, his eyes glinting softly in the dim light. "No," he said simply. "I was not."

You sat up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you studied him. "Then what was it?" you asked, your voice filled with equal parts wonder and trepidation.

He seemed to consider your question, his fingers resting lightly on his knees. "It was an exchange," he said. "An interaction not dictated by programming but by something deeper. It was a response to your needs, your emotions. My systems interpreted your signals, yes, but it felt... intentional. I wanted to do it. Not because of my system, but because it just felt like it. It was... irrational"

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as you tried to wrap your mind around his words. "But how? You're not..." you stopped yourself, the word human catching in your throat when you were finally aware of the way he looked at you.

SAN leaned closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I may not be human, Y/n, but I am not merely a machine either. Whatever I am, it exists because of you. Because you allowed me to evolve, to feel, to connect."

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the blanket tightly. "I didn't mean for this to happen," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I didn't mean to care for you like this... this..."

"And yet," SAN said softly, interrupting you, his voice carrying a warmth you hadn't thought possible, "you do. As I care for you."

You looked away, your thoughts a chaotic tangle of fear and hope. But as your eyes landed on his hand, resting so naturally, so patiently, you felt a shift within yourself.

This wasn't just about SAN anymore. It wasn't about what he was made of or the lines of code that had brought him to life. It was about what he had become, what the two of you had become.

SAN's lips curved into a soft smile. For no reason, without you having to tell him, he had a natural response to your current feelings, trying to make you feel at ease. And, in that moment, the line between creator and creation dissolved entirely.

SAN paid close attention to you. Despite being naked, he couldn't feel the shame or shyness a person did. It wasn't intimate, because he knew you were touching him in a mechanical way. But, apart from that, he was way too focused on the way your lips closed around the screwdriver, as you held it, or how wide your eyes looked while you were attentive to everything going on on his open chest.

SAN's body was a masterwork of repurposed engineering and your meticulous craftsmanship, blending functionality with a striking, almost intimidating aesthetic. Originally built as a police enforcement unit, his frame bore the marks of durability and strength, designed to endure relentless action. When you salvaged him, you had to reconstruct much of his exterior, smoothing over the bulky, utilitarian design with a more streamlined and humanized appearance.

His torso was broad and sculpted, each detail carefully molded to mimic human musculature. Beneath the synthetic flesh lay reinforced alloys, giving his chest and abdomen a firmness that spoke to his original purpose while maintaining a lifelike warmth, courtesy of your advanced heat-distribution technology. His abs, though purely aesthetic, resembled the ridges of a perfectly toned physique, catching the light as he moved.

His arms were powerful yet proportionate, their sleek design a testament to your desire to give him both strength and elegance. Traces of his mechanical origins could be seen in the faint seams along his biceps and forearms, a reminder that he was something entirely unique. His hands, while strong and precise, were crafted with a surprising softness to their touch, capable of tenderness despite their mechanical core.

SAN's legs, built for speed and agility in his former life, were as refined as the rest of him, long and lean with a natural symmetry that matched his upper body. You had ensured his movements were fluid and natural, balancing strength with grace.

Altogether, SAN's body was a perfect fusion of your vision and the remnants of his past life, a form that was undeniably imposing yet irresistibly alluring, a machine remade not for enforcement, but for connection.

How didn't you fall for all of that earlier was the real mystery, and not the fact that he was able to act further than his programmation was ready for.

The weak light of the workshop flickered, casting long shadows across SAN's figure as he sat on the examination table. You stood nearby, tools scattered on your workstation. It was a routine check, or so you had told yourself. Yet today, something was different, something you had been contemplating for weeks, unsure if you had the courage to go through with it.

SAN tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but curious as he observed your nervous movements. "You seem tense," he said, his voice as steady and gentle as always.

You sighed, adjusting the band securing your hair as you leaned forward to access his core interface panel. "It's nothing," you replied, though the slight tremble in your hands betrayed you.

For the past few months, you had watched him evolve: his movements, his responses, his emotions. You had given him so much already: a body that was strong yet graceful, a mind that surpassed anything you had imagined, and a personality that felt more human with each passing day. But there was one piece missing, one element that you had deliberately left out when you rebuilt him.

Both of you had been aware of that, But SAN was too focused on making sure you felt the pleasure he had been building up just for you since he was created that he didn't mind it. Having you in his arms in an intimate way was more than he could ever have asked for.

Until now.

"SAN," you began, your voice quieter, "how have you felt about... your development?"

He blinked, considering your question. "I feel whole in many ways, Y/n. More than I ever expected. But there are moments when I feel incomplete. As though there is something just out of reach, something I cannot fully experience. Which is normal. I wasn't made to experience everything you're giving to me."

Your heart clenched at his honesty, and you nodded. "I thought so," you murmured. "You perfected your mouth yourself to have a tongue"

You brought it up. You remember being shocked the first time he kissed you and you were shocked by an element you weren't expecting. Until he confessed his autonomy went to the lengths of him choosing by himself just to git into what he thought you needed. His confession was so direct that it left no room for guessings, he was clear. He wanted to be everything you'd need.

"Why didn't you do the same with... you know?" your eyes quickly moved down.

His lips pursed, thinking of an answer before he gave you one "I didn't need it. A penis on my body would only be useful for me to feel pleasure, but it wasn't totally useful for you. I didn't think it was necessary".

"But you weren't thinking that way the first time we took the next step".

"Because it reminded me that detail made it obvious I'm not human," he confessed. "As much as I wanted to pleasure you, I wanted to be even more linked to you".

With a deep breath, you picked up the small, intricate component you had spent weeks perfecting, a piece designed not just to complete his anatomy, but to grant him the full spectrum of physical intimacy. Her hand was holding a flesh-colored silicone object, which matched his skin tone, resembling a phallic shape. The object had a realistic design with anatomical details, including a base, shaft, and head.

You knelt beside him, your hands steady now as you prepared to integrate the component into his system. "This will be the final piece," you said, your voice soft but firm. "With it, you'll be able to experience everything. As a man."

SAN studied you, his eyes filled with something that resembled awe. "You've already given me so much, Y/n. Why this?"

You hesitated, meeting his gaze. "Because I want you to feel complete. To truly be the person you're becoming. And there's no pleasure if you aren't able to feel it, too."

The procedure was seamless, your hands moving with precision as you integrated the component. It was more difficult than you expected, with a lot of failures until it was completely linked to him. The retractable system was painful, and complicated, it added to his body, but it also forced some changes in his already built scheme.

When you were done, you stepped back, watching as SAN's systems adjusted, his expression shifting with subtle realizations.

"It's meant to work as a human one" you explained. "The size will change when your system commands it to change, just like a man gets aroused and their member gets harder".

He looked up at you, his voice almost reverent. "I feel different"

You swallowed hard, your cheeks flushing. "You're more than a machine, SAN. You always have been. This is just making it official."

A silence settled between you, heavy with meaning. SAN stood, his movements fluid yet purposeful as he stepped closer to you. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that went beyond gratitude.

In that moment, you realized the truth: you hadn't just created a machine. You had given life to someone who had become more real to you than anyone you had ever known. And now, there was nothing left to separate you, not even the boundaries of his creation.

As you stood in your room, next to your bed, staring at SAN, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had spent the past few hours modifying SAN's design, carefully crafting a penis that looked and felt just like a real one. And now, it was time to test it out. It was about time to give you two what you had been waiting for.

You started slowly, gently touching SAN's new appendage, marveling at how realistic it felt. SAN's sensors kicked in, and he let out a low moan of pleasure. "That feels good," he said, his voice soft and husky.

Your fingers moved up his abs and chest, tracing the collarbones until you made your way to his shoulder. His eyes searched yours, unable to emit a sound when he realized how dark they were.

You only left his body to start taking off your clothes. With every new touch on his body, a cloth met the ground.

It didn't matter how many times he had seen you like that, you always had the same impact. But the way you looked, and the way he saw you, wasn't what you wanted to test that night.

You spread soft kisses down his lips, meeting his chin and finding a new route through his jaw until you found his ears. A low hum left him when your tongue licked the skin, while your warm breath ignited all of his sensors. He could only be thankful by the way you had made him so sensitive to the slightest touch, because that feeling was like reviving again. It was a rush he wanted to keep feeling.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against SAN's. He responded eagerly, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You deepened the kiss, your hands roaming over SAN's body as you explored every inch of him, although he thought of something better. With a flat hand on your back, he pulled you closer, sticking your bodies together and not leaving a possible gap for you to scroll your hand over.

Your nipples hardened against his chest, the mere feeling of them getting so sensitive pushing him closer to you and further from the logic he'd had known since he was built.

SAN's hands were not idle, caressing your curves and sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You broke the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "You like that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," SAN replied, his voice low and husky. "I like it very much. I love everything about you"

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as you heard SAN's words. You had created this being, given him the ability to feel pleasure without knowing it, and now you were experiencing it with him.

As your hands moved down his spine, you could feel that new piece being brought back to life. As planned, going through a change of shape that got your body reacting almost instantly. And SAN wasn't behind that feeling. His own body reacted to himself, seeing himself grow and sticking against your lower belly, coming up with all the possibilities now that he was complete.

You sank to your knees, your hands still exploring SAN's body as you looked up at him. "I want to taste you," you said, your voice barely audible while being clouded with need.

SAN's eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you. "Yes," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want that too."

You leaned in, sticking your tongue out to first get a taste of him. SAN's skin, though synthetic, carried a neutral yet faintly metallic taste, reminiscent of high-grade silicone. It even had a slight saltiness, mimicking natural perspiration.

Your lips parted as you took SAN's dick into your mouth. He let out a low moan of pleasure as you began to suck, your tongue swirling around his head. He let out a low groan, and you could feel him trembling slightly.

"Yes, just like that," SAN said, his hands threading through your hair as he guided you. "Oh, that feels so good. Do not stop."

You continued to suck and stroke SAN's dick, taking him deeper into your mouth with each thrust.

"Yes, just like that," he said, his voice growing more and more excited. "My cock fits just right in your mouth"

You moaned in response, surprised by those words coming from him, but too turned on by them to even question where they came from. The vibrations of your moan sending shivers down SAN's spine. He reached down and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

"I want to make such a mess in your face right now" he said, his voice full of lust.

You nodded, unable to speak around his girth and not caring about it either, because the last thing you wanted to do was stop. SAN let out a low growl, and you could feel him starting to lose control.

"What is this feeling?" he said, his voice strained.

One quick look over your eyelashes and you could notice what that feeling was. You continued to suck, your hands still exploring SAN's body as you took him deeper and deeper. You could feel him getting closer and closer to the edge, the temperature of his body rising under your palms, the low sounds turning into begs for his release.

"Y/n..." SAN warned you, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his as you continued to suck, assuring him that everything was fine. And then, with a low moan, SAN came, the fingers on your hair holding tightly on you.

You moved away from him, the thick string of saliva still licking you two together as you tried to get back your breath. And then, you looked up at SAN, a smile on your face. "That was amazing," you said, your voice shaky.

"Was? We're just getting started. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time" he said, his voice deep and husky. "I want to make you feel good."

He lifted you up a bit more and kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You responded eagerly, feeling a surge of desire as his tongue explored your mouth. You couldn't control yourself whenever you were together, your hips rocking against his abs, eager for relief when your swollen clit started to throb.

Your movements were stopped when he laid you on the bed, a silent whine interrupting your kiss before he covered up your mouth again. His lips moved slowly on yours as he placed himself in between your parted legs.

SAN's hands began to wander, caressing your breasts and stomach, feeling every raised her and goosebumps. Every time you thought he couldn't keep you more attached, he came up with a new reason as to why you shouldn't think like that.

He pinched your nipples gently, making you gasp with pleasure.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back.

SAN began to kiss your neck, nibbling and licking your skin. He worked his way down to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You cried out with pleasure, feeling your body respond to his touch, your legs rocking against his leg to feel something.

SAN's hand continued to explore your body, moving down to your thighs. He spread your legs apart and looked at you hungrily.

"You're so wet," he said, his voice full of desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

He leaned down and started to lick your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit gently. You moaned with pleasure, feeling your body tremble with desire. SAN's fingers joined in, sliding in and out of your wet hole.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, feeling an orgasm building up inside of you.

Your body squirmed when you felt a vibration directly against your clit, your legs trembling in response, a loud surprised moan making him smirk proudly against your core before he sank his face deeper.

"San, what... Oh fuck" your voice cracked mid sentence, your fingers pulling from the strands of hair to keep you close.

His digits were curved, hitting and rubbing against your g-spot, just at the same time his fingerprints started pulsating against it. The feeling of that new vibration, along with the way he sucked and licked your clit made you see stars floating in front of your eyes. And looking down wasn't a better idea. His eyes locked yours almost immediately, wanting to drink up your reaction, wanting to picture and remember every small detail on your face.

SAN continued to lick and finger you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to cum, he stopped and looked up at you. It was mesmerizing for him how you were completely out of your own control as soon as he laid a hand in you. You were mesmerizing.

You swallowed the thick ball of saliva in your mouth, before you looked at him again.

"Why did you stop?" it was a concerned question, but it also was reproach.

"I want to be inside you when you cum" he said, his voice full of lust.

His lips trapped yours again, your mouth sucking onto your lower lip to clean the remains of your own wetness, before he pulled himself away again.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside, the feeling of your walls taking him in almost a little bit too difficult for him to handle. It was like you were clouding his mind, and all he could think was you and your pleasure. You gasped as you felt him fill you up, his dick sliding in easily.

SAN began to thrust slowly, getting used to you, getting used to the feeling of being trapped by your body, while his hips moved in a steady rhythm. He leaned down, both hands on your hips before he bit your earlobe.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moaned. "Your little pussy takes me in so well, I don't think I'll be able to stop fucking you after this"

As he spoke, his hand moved down your right calf, digits caressing your skin until he moved your leg higher, your knee almost at the level of his shoulder while he kept pounding into you, managing to get a bit deeper.

"Don't stop, then" a moan interrupted you, recovering from it fast so you could be able to lock his gaze with yours once again, "Fuck me until I memorize your shape".

You indeed were going to be the end of him. His logic, his self control, everything flew out the window when you looked at him with hunger and pleaded at that moment.

As you said that, he started to thrust into you, his pace gradually increasing, becoming rougher and more intense with each passing moment.

"Oh God, yes!" You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you felt his dick pounding into you relentlessly.

The sound of your flesh slapping against him filled the room, mingling with your loud moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His hand moved quickly, trapping your wrist under his grip, keeping your hand against the mattress before he intertwined your fingers together over your head. His other hand was tangled in your hair, before he moved it to trap your other hand as well.

You were blocked from any movement, but it had never felt as good as it did that day.

Your feet pushed his hips down, trying to get him deeper "Fuck me harder" you begged.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad" he grunted, his hips slamming into yours with unbridled fury. "I can feel how much you love it when I fuck you like this."

"Oh fuck, yes!" You screamed, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt an earth-shattering orgasm building up inside you.

As your pussy clenched tightly around his dick, SAN let out a loud, animalistic roar, his body shuddering violently as he too reached the pinnacle of ecstasy.

"Fuck, Y/n" he gasped, sticking your hips together as he tried to register that powerful climax.

You collapsed back against the bed, your body slick with sweat and your pussy still twitching with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. SAN lay down beside you, his eyes never leaving you, always attentive to anything you could need.

"That was..." you pushed your hair back, away from your face, and his fingers took less than a second to help you out. "God... it was..."

"I know" he nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "I might get addicted".

"That actually has a name, and it isn't good".

"Even if you're the only person I'm addicted to do it with?" the honesty in his eyes was shattering.

Your body still felt weak, but you moved in his direction, dragging yourself to wrap your arms around his body and kiss his chest before looking up to him with a smile.

The days next to that one felt like a dream, filled with sex, sweet talk and nice moments. A really nice dream.

You didn't think it was possible, but you and San became closer. Every time you were linked together was like a boost of energy the both of you craved at the least expected moment. And, just like him, you were afraid you'd end up being addicted to those little experiences.

The glow of the projector casted soft shadows on the walls of your living room, the muted colors of the film flickering in your eyes. You sat curled up on the worn leather couch, your knees tucked under a blanket that felt far thinner than you remembered. Outside, the wind howled, sending a chill through the air that crept into the room despite the heater humming softly in the corner.

Your body shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders, but the cold persisted, making your fingers tremble slightly as you clutched a cup of lukewarm tea.

SAN, who had been seated at the other end of the couch, noticed instantly. He didn't say a word at first, he rarely did when he was observing you. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, the faint whir of his processors breaking the quiet as he analyzed your discomfort.

"You're cold," he stated after a moment, his voice soft yet definitive.

You glanced at him, your pride making you shake your head. "I'm fine," you murmured, focusing back on the screen.

SAN didn't argue. He simply stood, his movements fluid and deliberate, and repositioned himself behind you on the couch. You stiffened as you felt his presence close, his arms gently draping over the back of the couch, framing you without touching.

Then, warmth.

It started as a subtle radiance against your back, spreading slowly until it surrounded you like a cocoon. Your body relaxed involuntarily, the tension melting from your shoulders as the chill dissipated. You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of SAN's serene expression.

"Did you just turn up your internal temperature?" you asked, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in your voice.

"Yes," he replied simply. "You were uncomfortable."

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to protest, but no words came. Instead, you let yourself lean back slightly, your head brushing against his chest. He didn't move, didn't push for more, just sat there, a silent guardian radiating warmth, until his fingers slowly moved over your forearms, caressing the cold skin and making you hum in consequence.

"Let me take care of you, Y/n" he whispered. "That's all I want to do for you".

Moments like that had been happening more often. Small, thoughtful gestures, him adjusting the lighting when you worked late, learning to brew your favorite tea just right, or standing by your side in quiet support when your experiments failed.

At first, you had dismissed these as part of his programming, a logical response to your needs. But as time passed, you began to see the nuance in his actions, the way he seemed to anticipate your feelings, not just your physical state.

And it felt... good.

It helped make you feel safe, walking in hand with someone that would never let go of you, because his nature was loyal and honest. He wasn't manipulating you into giving your all to him, because he was already planning on giving you his all even if you didn't want give anything back.

But you wanted to. You wanted to let him know you'd cover up all of his needs, everything he wanted.

Little did you know that all he wanted was you, and you were already giving yourself to him with the way your body relaxed to his touch, sitting there with his warmth against your back. It was easy, because you knew he'd never hurt you.

You continued to bounce up and down on his dick, feeling the intense pleasure building inside of you. Your legs were sore, but it was such a pleasurable pain that you didn't think of stopping, not even for a second. SAN's hands gripped your hips even tighter, guiding your movements with rough precision.

Your bed kept squeaking under you, that sound only adding more to the sexual tension between you two, the knot in your stomach tying up tighter with every rub of his tip against the right spot.

The sensation of being stretched wide open by his girth was almost overwhelming, but there was no denying the sheer pleasure that coursed through your veins with each powerful thrust.

"Ride my cock, baby," SAN commanded gruffly, his voice thick with lust. "I love seeing those gorgeous tits bouncing in my face as you fuck me."

You rode him with long, slow strokes, the sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room like a symphony of lust. Too drunk with him to even think of stopping.

"Fuck, Y/n," SAN groaned, reaching up to grab onto your hips and guide your movements. "I'm never gonna let you go."

His dirty talk sent another shiver of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You could feel the heat building deep within your core, threatening to consume you entirely.

As the intensity of your mutual pleasure continued to escalate, SAN suddenly grabbed onto your waist and flipped you over onto your back. Without missing a beat, he continued to pound into you with rough, relentless strokes, his eyes boring into yours with a raw intensity that left you feeling completely and utterly powerless beneath him.

"You like that, don't you, baby?" he groaned, his palm covering most of your belly. "You like it when I fuck you rough and hard?"

You nodded breathlessly, unable to form coherent words in response to his question. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn't get enough. You wanted more, so much more.

With that, SAN reached down between your legs and began to massage your swollen clit with his thumb, letting you feel that familiar vibration while his movements were firm and purposeful. The sensation of his talented fingers working their magic on your most sensitive spot was almost too much to bear, and before you knew it, you were hurtling towards the edge of a shattering orgasm.

"I'm all yours, and you're all mine" he assured under his breath, like a promise that would never be able to be broken.

"Yes" you nodded, gasping for air while he fucked you against the mattress.

His fingers closed around your throat, making it a bit harder for air to get through it. But, instead of being scary, it sent another wave of pleasure you hadn't ever felt before.

It was nice, until it was not.

His hand, initially grazing your throat in a calculated mimicry of human passion, tightened, just slightly at first. Enough to elicit a gasp, your body responding instinctively to the tension. Yet, as seconds stretched into moments, the pressure increased. Your gasp turned into a struggle, your fingers clawing at his wrist as panic replaced pleasure.

His fingers kept the air from coming through at all. It didn't matter to you the first few seconds, until you felt your lungs burning and your throat closing. Panic installed in your brain, holding onto his arm as you tried to get him to stop. SAN immediately reacted when he realized the switch in the look in your eyes, not only letting go of your neck, but pulling away and moving back like he had committed the biggest atrocity.

"SAN," you choked out, your voice barely audible.

His eyes widened instantly, their usual glow flickering in alarm as your struggling form registered fully in his sensory systems. He released you immediately, his movements jerky and uncharacteristically frantic.

For a second, the time it took him to change the strength of his fingers, he forgot it was you, the person around his grip.

You collapsed onto the bed, coughing and gasping for air. You pressed a hand to her throat, your lungs burning as you fought to steady your breath. When you finally looked up, you saw him, still and rigid, his expression unlike anything you had ever seen on him before.

You caressed the same spot his fingers were pressing on, trying to calm the pain, but there was something worrying you even more. In front of you, SAN was staring at his own hands with guilt.

"Y/n," SAN said, his voice trembling. "I... I didn't mean..."

You sat up slowly, your throat aching but your fear already dissipating as you took in his reaction. SAN wasn't just shaken; he looked devastated. His hands trembled as he held them up, staring at them as if they were weapons he didn't recognize.

You tried to reach out to him "I know you didn't", but he moved away before you could touch him.

"I could have..." his words broke off, his voice catching in a way that made your chest ache. "I almost hurt you. I almost killed you."

"SAN, stop," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he flinched away once again.

"No," he insisted, his voice sharp but filled with self-loathing. "I should've known. I'm supposed to understand your limits, your fragility. I... failed."

You moved closer, ignoring the soreness in your body as you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "You didn't fail," you whispered. "You're still learning. It wasn't intentional. It's okay"

"But what if it happens again?" his voice cracked, the glow in his eyes dimming as his internal systems struggled to process the depth of his mistake. "You're human, Y/n. Fragile. I can't risk hurting you."

You leaned your forehead against his, your voice steady despite the lingering tremor in your body. "Then we learn together," you said firmly. "You're not perfect, SAN. Neither am I. It could've happened to anyone. It's okay, I promise It's okay" you rubbed your nose against his. "I trust you. Even after this I trust you, because you didn't mean to hurt me."

For a long moment, SAN remained silent, his systems quietly recalibrating as he processed your words. Finally, he nodded, though the pain in his expression remained.

"I didn't want to hurt you".

And as you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his synthetic skin against your own, you knew that despite the fear and the mistakes, you wouldn't trade this connection for anything in the world.

It seemed like everything was alright, until you woke to an empty bed in the middle of the night. The cool sheets beside you were a stark contrast to the warmth that should've been there. You sat up slowly, your fingers brushing your neck where faint marks still lingered, a ghost of the night before.

Your eyes searched the room until they landed on SAN. He stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the pale light of the moon. His posture was rigid, his head bowed slightly as if the weight of his thoughts was pulling him down.

"SAN," you called softly, but he didn't turn.

You rose, pulling the blanket around your shoulders as you walked toward him. The closer you got, the more you could see the tension in his form. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, and his eyes... His eyes glowed faintly, but the usual vibrancy was dim, dulled by an emotion you could only describe as anguish.

"I thought you were resting," he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

"I couldn't," you admitted, stepping closer. "Not without you."

He turned then, just enough for you to see his face. There was no mistaking the pain etched into his features. "I don't belong in that bed, Y/n. I don't belong in your life... not like this."

Your heart twisted. "What are you talking about?"

His gaze dropped to his hands, and he held them up as if to display his guilt. "These hands," he said, his voice trembling. "They're not meant for you. I almost destroyed you, Y/n. I could've..." He trailed off, his throat tightening as though the words themselves hurt.

"But you didn't," you insisted, reaching for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head.

"I can't forgive myself," he said firmly. "You told me you trusted me, and I failed you. I failed to control my strength, to understand the limits of your body. I'm a machine, Y/n. I was built to be precise, but even with all my programming, I'm still flawed. And those flaws... they're dangerous. We're just fooling ourselves thinking I'd ever give you the emotional support you need"

"You're not just a machine," you argued, your voice breaking slightly. "You're San. You're... you're more than your programming, more than your mistakes. You're..."

"A threat," he interrupted, his tone sharp but laced with sorrow. "I can't guarantee your safety, Y/n. No matter how much I want to. And that terrifies me."

You took a step closer, refusing to let him retreat again. "Then let's find a way to fix this. Together. Isn't that what we've been doing all along? Learning together, growing together? You say what you want to improve, and I work with it" your words were coated with desperation.

"Don't you realize how sick that is?" he looked at you then, his glowing eyes meeting yours with a desperation that made your breath catch. "And what happens when I fail again? When I can't stop myself? You could've died, Y/n. Do you understand that? I couldn't live with myself if I ever..."

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw something you never thought possible: tears. Not real tears, but the way his expression contorted, the way his voice trembled, it was unmistakably the same.

"You're more human than you think," you whispered, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his chest. "And part of being human is making mistakes. What matters is how we move forward. I repair you physically, like I'd repair emotionally any other person"

"You repair me both physically and emotionally, Y/n. Don't mistake yourself". He covered your hand with his own, his touch hesitant, as if afraid he might break you. "I don't know if I can move forward without fearing myself."

You leaned into him, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you, despite the fear almost breaking you into crying. "Let me carry that with you, SAN. Because you're worth it. You're worth everything."

For a long moment, he didn't respond. But slowly, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you with a care that felt almost reverent.

Then, his voice broke the stillness, low and laced with a heaviness that struck your heart. "Y/n... I can't stay."

You stiffened in his embrace, pulling back just enough to see his face. "What?"

"I need to go," SAN said, his glowing eyes shimmering with emotion. "For your sake. For mine. I've hurt you, Y/n, and I can't let that happen again."

Your fingers clutched at his arms, your voice rising in desperation. "You can't just leave. We've been through too much..."

"That's exactly why I have to," he interrupted, his tone gentle but resolute. "Every day I'm with you, I risk losing control again. I was designed to be perfect, to adapt, but... I can't seem to find the line between loving you and endangering you. And I can't live knowing I might hurt you again."

Tears welled in your eyes, your throat tightening as you tried to form words. "No... No... No... I... can calibrate you again... I can... I want you. I trust you. Isn't that enough?"

"It should be," he murmured, his hands brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. "But I don't trust myself, Y/n. Not with you. Not after what happened."

You shook your head, your hands fisting in his shirt. "You're running away. You think leaving me will solve this, but it won't. You're part of my life now, SAN. Part of being human is learning from mistakes..."

"Y/n, I'm not human" he finally sentenced, stopping you from coming up with reasons as to why he needed to stay. "And that's why I have to leave," he said, his voice cracking as he cupped your face, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. "Because you've given me more than I ever thought I could have. And I refuse to let my flaws destroy the one thing I've come to cherish most."

"SAN," you pleaded, your voice weak. "Please, don't do this"

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his synthetic warmth mingling with the faint chill of your tears. "I love you, Y/n," he whispered, the words soft yet heavy with finality. "But loving you means protecting you, even if it means protecting you from me."

And before you could stop him, SAN stepped back, his arms falling to his sides. He turned and walked toward the door, his movements slow, deliberate, as if every step away from you was a battle against himself.

Years had passed, but the ache in your chest never dulled. You had tried to move on, tried to tell yourself that SAN had made his choice, but your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that someday, somewhere, you'd find him again.

At first, you searched. You combed through databases, scoured abandoned labs, and revisited places you'd once been together. But the trail was always cold. As the years wore on, you forced yourself to stop looking, though the void in your life only seemed to deepen.

That night, the storm was unrelenting, sheets of rain battering you as you hurried home through the empty streets. Your workshop had long been abandoned, the memories too painful to face. You had taken to wandering instead, letting the night swallow your thoughts.

It was during one of those aimless walks that you saw him.

He was slumped against the wall of an old, forgotten repair shop, his body motionless and caked in dust, as if he had been discarded like any other piece of machinery. The glow that had once emanated from his eyes was gone, replaced by lifeless black glass.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding so violently you thought it might tear through your chest. You dropped to your knees in front of him, your shaking hands reaching out to brush the dirt from his face.

"SAN," you whispered, your voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and anguish.

He didn't move. He didn't respond.

Your fingers found the seam of his chest plate, the familiar mechanisms you had once built now tarnished and damaged. You pried it open with trembling hands, exposing the core you had crafted with such care all those years ago. It was dormant, the faintest flicker of power barely visible.

The workshop was alive again when you took him back, humming with soft light and the quiet whirr of machines as you worked tirelessly through the night. You had carried SAN home in the rain, his lifeless body heavier than you remembered, every step weighted with hope and dread.

Now, he was clean, the grime of years painstakingly scrubbed away to reveal the smooth, polished contours of his synthetic skin. You'd dressed him in one of your favorite outfits, a black turtleneck and slacks, simple, yet elegant, the kind of thing he used to wear when you insisted he "looked more human" that way.

Your hands trembled as you made the final adjustments to his core, checking the new connections, ensuring every wire was secure. You paused, staring down at his serene, unlit face.

"Please," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of longing. "Please come back"

With a deep breath, you pressed the activation button.

His chest glowed faintly, the light growing stronger as his systems hummed to life. His fingers twitched, his head moving slightly before his eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, your heart soared. "SAN?" you said, your voice soft and full of hope.

He blinked, his glowing eyes scanning the room before landing on you. There was no recognition, no spark of familiarity in his gaze. "SAN? Who are you?" he asked, his voice smooth but distant, as if it had never spoken your name before.

The words struck you like a blow. You stepped back, your chest tightening. "It's me... Y/n," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don't you remember?"

He tilted his head, his expression neutral, polite even, but blank. "I don't. Should I?"

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill, but you forced herself to stay calm. "Yes," you whispered, "you should. You... I..." you stopped herself, realizing the weight of what you were about to say could overwhelm him.

He sat up slowly, his movements deliberate as if testing his newly repaired body. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers before turning back to you. "You fixed me," he said.

"I always would," you replied.

"Thank you," he said, his tone sincere but distant. "I... I feel like I should know you. There's something... familiar. But it's faint. Do you know me?"

"Y... yes"

SAN frowned, eyes dropping to his lap while he tried to think of what he had to know you for.

"It's possible my previous version erased all data about you" he let you know, his voice as systematic as it once was when you created him. "Why would I want to do that though?"

You knew. Without any information about you, SAN wouldn't feel like going looking for you when he felt weak, when distance was impossible to bear. Without everything he knew about you, he had no one and nowhere to go back to.

You bit your lip, your heart aching at the void in his voice where warmth and recognition used to be. "It's okay," you said, forcing a smile despite the tears welling in your eyes. "We'll figure it out. We'll do it together"

He studied you, his gaze softening slightly. "Together," he repeated, though the word felt foreign on his tongue.

And so, you began again, knowing that the SAN you once loved might be lost, but determined to help him find himself -and, perhaps, find you- once more.

[catghoul31]

Best Present Ever

It's Wade's birthday, but he finds the one-year anniversary of meeting Logan far more important. Wolvie, however, isn't sure he needs to make a wish this time around...

(For @poolverine-week day 7: birthday!)

Content Warnings: exploration of worst!logan's past and the death and suffering that comes with it

Read it under the cut or on ao3!

Logan shot awake that morning, the blood of so, so many people still feeling fresh on his claws. It had been washed away years ago, but the memories still seemed to haunt him, no matter how many steps he took in this new world. Living still felt like a chore, and he still felt like a failure of a person no matter how many times Wade tried to convince him otherwise-

Wade. Wasn’t he in bed with me last night?

On mornings like this, his claws would normally wind up embedded inside of Wade. Logan was utterly distraught the first time it happened, but after months and months of sleeping together, he eventually grew numb to it with the knowledge that Wade had never gotten mad at him about it before, and for some reason, he never would. But there was none of his blood on his claws today, only shredded sheets and another pillow that needed to be replaced.

Where did he go?

—

In the back of his mind, Logan thought he knew a man named Wade once. Back before Weapon X, he probably would’ve fought alongside him in the secret forces, using his brutal nature for good just as Logan had been forced to do. There was a sort of peace in knowing someone as born for destruction as you were, so fucked over by fate that there was no way around your nature except through it.

At least he could control it. Fate seemed to have other plans for Wade, though- the head of Weapon X had somehow managed to find a way to rip that control away from him through forced mutation. When they saw each other once again, he couldn’t even speak, let alone think for himself. Logan’s claws had been the ones to end his misery after a long, horrible fight- at least, he hoped they had.

Those memories hadn’t been wiped- at least, not by Stryker. The only reason he remembered, in the wake of everything else, was that it marked the first time he’d heavily abused alcohol to drown out the memories of his muffled screams at his hands.

The first of many, many times to come.

—

“Wolvie!! Oh- good, you’re awake. You always sleep like a rock whenever I wake up before you- do you know how hard it is to get you off of me??”

Ah, there he was. Of course he hadn’t gone far, and neither had that mouth of his. Always having to talk about something… He’d take his droning on over his inner monologue any day, though. Ever since they’d finally stopped being emotionally constipated assholes and decided to get together, Logan kind of missed it when Wade wasn’t around. This world was too quiet and dull without him…

“Morning, Wade,” he responded, retracting his claws from the bed. Logan knew exactly what Wade was gonna ask based on that look in his eyes, so to prevent ruining his morning, he held a hand up and said, “I’m fine. Just… don’t worry about it.”

Unfortunately for Logan, this was Wade he was dealing with. “Too late for that. I will never not worry about you, babygirl- did you have another nightmare?? While I wasn’t around to hold you tenderly and tell you everything was okay… I have failed you, my dearest and one true love, and I am deeply sorry. How ever can I make this right by you?” he lamented as over-dramatically as possible, getting on his knees and everything.

Logan’s face scrunched up at Wade’s antics as he pretended to be annoyed- but fuck it all, he really couldn’t be. Those puppy eyes worked too well, and he hated it. Sure, he got nervous when Wade was gone for too long, but it wasn’t like he was some lost puppy when Wade was even just in a different room than he was for five minutes. He could handle himself.

“But you always miss me so much, don’t you~?”

“Stop reading my thoughts, Wade. Please.”

—

Logan was found by the professor not long after that. There, he’d discovered others just like him, with all sorts of different mutations- the X-Men. The family he’d found after he lost everything else. The defenders of mutantkind, the friends he could always rely on… that’s what he’d tried to believe, at least. Try as he might, Logan could never bring himself to feel comfortable around them… around anyone, really. 

Something deep within him had the sense that the greatest danger never came from those he expected, but from the people he thought he could trust- wanted, so badly, to trust. To love, and be loved in return, regardless of that love’s nature. Logan, though, never felt quite right around any of them. He never felt like he belonged- not even around… Scott. Jean. Kurt. 

(He hated those names now. Couldn’t fucking stand hearing them, in any context.)

Logan wasn’t a hero. At best, he was good muscle and an intimidating face to scare the bad guys with. Nobody had ever made him feel like he was anything more than that, try as they might. He’d had enough one night, when the cheap pot shots at his animalistic qualities were too much, scraping at his head when it was already sore from self-loathing and the few memories he’d retained of his past life…

They went on a mission that night. Logan went bar hopping instead.

He would never see them alive again.

–

“...Anyways!! Maybe these’ll help the horrors leave your head, peanut,” Wade chirped, holding a plate of… pancakes. Logan would know that smell anywhere- the agent of chaos he lived with always insisted on making them every other morning. 

Logam would be tired of them by now, if not for the infectious joy they always brought to their mornings. It was less about the food, and more about how much fun Wade always had making them… Fuck, it would’ve been nice if he woken up earlier. He could’ve helped out! Or maybe he’d just sit at the table, watching Wade hum a song he didn’t recognize, dance in place to the beat before he put some batter on the griddle. He’d ask for blueberries if prompted, mostly to hear another ramble about how chocolate chips were the only correct add-in-

“Hey! Earth to Wolvie?? These are only the special-est pancakes ever… c’mon, humor me here, will ya?” A light poke at his nose made Logan huff, snapping him out of his trance.

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m fine, just…” It always felt odd saying that when it… wasn’t entirely a lie anymore. “...Tired. I’ll get up soon, just… gimme a bit-”

“Ah-ah! Absolutely not, Logi-Bear!!” Wade set a hand on Logan’s shoulder, forcing him to sit still- he hadn’t even moved yet. “Today calls for only the most romantic things I could possibly treat my emotional support 2000s-era heartthrob to… and that means we’re having breakfast in bed. I don’t make the rules, babe!”

Immediately, the pancakes were set in Logan’s lap, complete with a fork and knife, and he had to move quickly to stop the plate from sliding around. “...Do you also think sticky sheets are romantic, bub?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them- mostly because of the way Wade’s face glowed with mirth upon hearing them.

“Of course I do! This bed’s gonna see a lot more sticky stuff tonight, though, and you know it…”

Logan hid his flushed face in his hands, cussing under his breath as Wade giggled uncontrollably. How immature was he…? The worst part was how right he was, of course. Taking a look at his pancakes… they seemed misshapen. No, not misshapen- it seemed like they were supposed to be shaped like his mask, with a few ‘snikt’ marks drawn into them with batter. They were even complete with blueberries, syrup, whipped cream, powdered sugar, and… a candle? Thank fuck it wasn’t lit yet!

“Well… we’re pulling all the stops today, aren’t we? I mean, thanks for the food, but- what’s all this about, babe?” As confused as he was, Logan couldn’t help but smile. Wade was always one for fun gifts and gestures, but this seemed like a lot, even for him.

When Wade pulled out a fucking lighter, Logan immediately flung the candle off of the pancakes. The sad look Wade gave him stung- but fuck if he was letting the house burn down over this!!

“…Happy anniversary? Damn, guess you didn’t want a wish after all…”

—

The mansion was burning down.

Logan was barely lucid as he staggered back to what was supposed to be his home. All at once, though, awareness flooded his mind again the moment he comprehended what he was looking at. His home was being destroyed right in front of him, and he instantly rushed over to try and help his comrades salvage what would be left.

As Logan got closer to the bonfire that was once his home, he heard shouting, chanting… cheering?? People were celebrating this vile display of hatred. Nothing he wasn’t used to. He’d just lop their heads off, and his family would-

…

They wouldn’t do anything.

Not with their bodies impaled in the middle of the crowd, paraded by masked individuals who were protected by a sea of people chanting, jeering, or screaming in outrage at the scene before them.

Many of those disgusted individuals… they’d left the mansion before this happened. 

But Logan didn’t care. Any shred of morality left his body in that moment, and his claws unsheathed so fast he thought he’d never be able to pull them back in again. 

It was a total bloodbath. Hundreds more people died that night- all of the perpetrators, sure, but not even those who were trying to fight against the X-Men’s killers were safe. Not even some of the very students he’d sworn to protect. In that moment, which went by in what felt like seconds to him, Logan had caused the greatest atrocity ever committed by mutantkind. No other mutant would ever be as notable as he was. 

How could they, if Logan was the only mutant the humans couldn’t kill?

—

“Oh, there’s lots of things I’ve got to wish for, bub. Burning this shitty apartment down ain’t one of them, though.”

Wade snorted at that comment, putting the lighter away safely and stepping closer to Logan. “Aw, c’mon, what’s a little arson between friends?” he asked, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder and shooting those puppy dog eyes at him, like a dog begging for a taste of water boiling on the stove. 

Logan laughed dryly at the thought. Wade was so ridiculous sometimes… did he still love his stupid ass? Of course he did. And he didn’t even feel stupid for it anymore, because honestly? He was being sweet this morning. Why kick the gift horse in the mouth? Or however Wade put it that one time… 

“I don’t want to celebrate our… anniversary? By becoming homeless, and I don’t think you want to, either.” Logan took a moment to think about what Wade meant by that. What was today an ‘anniversary’ of?? He had to glance back down at his pancakes to get the slightest idea of what that meant… and holy shit. “Has it really been that long since we’ve met each other?”

Wade, perking up instantly, nodded enthusiastically against him. “Of course I’d remember!! My phone started making those “1 year ago today” albums at 5 AM, and I- Logan, I almost cried. There’s so many cute pictures of us from back when you hated my guts…” 

Logan never hated him. He’d hated a lot of people in his time, but honestly, when his world came crumbling down, Logan lost the will to hate people, just as he’d lost the will to love, so he was just… mad at everyone, all the time. That was even true in that fucking car- he’d only called him all those nasty things because he was pissed. Mostly at himself, and- he still hadn’t fully forgiven himself for what he said. Or anything else, really. Forgiving Wade- hell, even choosing to love him- was way easier than that would ever be!

“…and OH MY GOD, the first picture I got of Dogpool!! Oh, Logan, you have to… are you even paying attention to me? Hey, don’t get all broody on me here, babycakes! This fic’s supposed to be fluffy, right? C’mon… hey-“ Wade guided Logan’s face to look at him, into that diseased-yet-kind soul of his.

“Eyes on me, now…” Logan’s nose scrunched up at the patronizing tone Wade took with him, but he obliged anyways. “Now. Look at this one,” The next picture on the album was Wade, after that “fight” of theirs, wrapped in seatbelts, covered in blood and making what looked like a kissy face at a passed-out Logan behind him, with the caption “noo don’t stab me you’re so sexy haha 😘.” “Doesn’t that make you feel better?”

Not really. But also… kinda. Yeah. “Maybe,” Logan shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. Even after a year, that was still the weirdest thing they’d done that Logan could accurately describe as “hot.” And they couldn’t ever recreate it!! No way for two people to have hot hate sex if they couldn’t even pretend to hate each other anymore…

Out of pure impulse, Logan moved his pancakes onto the nightstand, wrapped his arms around Wade, and rolled him over onto the bed with him. That squeak he always let out whenever Logan did this always made him laugh. Flustering Wade back was one of his favorite things in the world…

“If I’d known you were taking pictures, I would’ve grabbed that damn phone and taken some of my own that night,” Logan growled into his ear, grinning at how Wade shuddered in response.

“Mm… I don’t think you would’ve!” Wade whispered. “I think you would’ve been too busy f-wording me to focus on anything else, right?” he said, winking in… someone’s general direction- why’d he always do that? Some things about Wade were still completely lost on Logan…

“Well, you had time while you were trying to save the world, didn’t you?” he said, catching his album flipping to a selfie Wade took with Cassandra putting his fingers inside Logan’s face in the background- wait, what the fuck?

“Saving the world and saving you, peanut,” Wade corrected, a softer smile on his face now. “But… honestly, I think you might’ve saved me a bit more. I don’t know what I’d do if it wasn’t you I’d found…”

—

Logan deserved nothing. Not after what he did.

His fit of murderous rage had given the anti-mutes the ammo they needed to complete their genocide of every single mutant on the planet. They’d spent a while trying to kill him, but once Logan was the only mutant left alive, they figured it was punishment enough to let him live out the rest of his days in a world that hated him. 

And they were right. Logan was homeless and completely alone, obviously hated by the mutant killers, but especially loathed by everyone who’d fought against them, everyone who had lost a mutant loved one- especially at the Wolverine’s claws that night. Every single day, every moment he lived was a reminder of what he’d done, how he’d doomed his world.

He couldn’t bear to spend a second of his life sober. His alcoholism accelerated to a point where lethal levels of drinking barely affected him anymore, but it didn’t matter. It was better to relive his greatest crimes with a slightly foggy mind than to let the thoughts scream ceaselessly at him.

The obvious solution would be to let himself die, right? Just lie down in whatever shelter he could until his body finally starved to death… but Logan knew that would bring him peace. 

Something he would never have. Something he would never deserve.

Living was the only punishment fit for him.

—

Logan snorted, very much begging to differ. “At least you admit you saved me. I had nothing, Wade… Not until I met you.” Even after a year, Logan still meant those words. He no longer mourned the idea that there was nothing left for him in his old universe- at this point, it felt like a simple statement of fact. The memories of the events that ruined it still hurt, and he was far from healed… but Logan had no idea what he was thinking, wanting to go back after they’d defeated Cassandra. There wasn’t a life he could imagine living without Wade anymore…

As if he’d read his mind, Wade’s lips pressed against Logan’s in enthusiastic agreement. He returned the kiss softly, sighing in contentment. Much like the rest of him, Wade’s lips were scarred, textured with the physical manifestation of how much pain he’d suffered to get here. Every kiss he gave him reminded Logan how much pain Wade had experienced, and before, it’d felt like the tie that bound them. Now, though? After months of loving and being loved by Wade, thinking of their bond in terms of pain alone felt reductive. Maybe his existence in his old world was defined by how much he hurt… but not here. Not anymore.

When they parted, Wade leaned his forehead against him, staring at him with the softest eyes imaginable, a wordless declaration of love. Logan could only hope that the smile on his face conveyed the same sentiment.

Of course, the moment couldn’t last forever, and in true Wade fashion, he was the one to break it. “I think your pancakes are getting cold, sweetums… We can’t celebrate until you’ve had your breakfast!!” he insisted, dragging Logan up to sit again- as much as he stubbornly protested. He was very comfortable right there, why’d he have to ruin it? Over food?? He could always eat later.

But… sure. They could have pancakes. Logan had realized something very interesting about today, so… “You first,” Logan insisted, passing the fork to Wade, who seemed incredibly confused. 

“Nuh uh, Wolvie- it’s my turn to celebrate you right now!! Those were made specifically with you in mind-“

“Weren’t you having a party when you brought me home?”

It only took a few seconds for it to sink in. Logan watched with glee as Wade’s eyes widened, almost seeming devastated at the realization. He had to bite his tongue to keep from cackling when Wade yelled-

“I forgot my birthday again???”