#i'm on a really good writing streak lately!

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

I had a sucky geography exam today you should totally cheer me up with a subby james fic🌚🌚❤️

-🦀

A/n: I know I'm a few days late to this one but I hope it still helps nonetheless

Also this is the actual fic based (???) on the teaser I made for April Fools Day, as you can tell I like getting two things out of the way at once, I also really liked how this turned out because a lot of people really wanted it and I never felt like writing it but here you have it

Warnings: Smut, James isn't stated to be a virgin but it's kind of implied I think (it was supposed to be in the original but I never added it in this), dacryphilia, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), submissive James, mommy kink, degradation, praise near the end, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

James sat there, naked on the bed in front of you. You straddled his lap, hands working his cock fast, using your spit as lube. His chest was all red, his face flushed as tears rolled down his cheeks, heels desperately kicking into the mattress.

“You’re not cumming yet.” You stated, James didn’t miss the annoyance in your voice, it made more tears come to his eyes. “I’m not letting someone fuck me if they can’t last more than a few seconds.” You’d been at this for almost a half hour, ruining countless highs for him while he just whined and begged for you to let him cum.

“Please-please, mommy… I-I can’t- I can’t take it anymore, please, just lemme cum, been so good!” He said through grunts, teeth gritting together as his hips bucked helplessly into your hand.

"Been good?" You repeated, eyes widening slightly as you scoffed. "Been so good, but you're humping my hand, have been for a while." He whined loudly, throwing his head back and doing his best to force himself in place. "You're a fucking whore is what you are." You pulled your hand off of James and he cried out for you weakly. "Get yourself off if you're so desperate and I'll think about riding you."

James watched you with wide eyes as you got off his lap and pushed yourself to the other end of the bed, watching him try to catch up with what just happened. You were no more clothed than James was, naked with your legs spread so he could see just how wet you were, how much seeing him cry and beg was truly turning you on. It gave him some motivation and he wrapped one big, calloused hand around his girth.

He knew what got him off, he'd been working with his hand for so long and it sucked to keep going when you were right there. He started slow, whimpers leaving him as he was severely overstimulated. He tried moving his hand faster but it just made things worse. You couldn't help but to laugh at his pathetic little noises.

"Little dicks hurts so bad you can't even get yourself off." You teased with a chuckle.

James's breathing was coming out in rough pants. "It-it's not small-small..." He managed to get out.

His eyes followed your hand as it trailed down your body, landing on your cunt as you spread your lips with two fingers, showing him your pretty pussy clenching around nothing. "I'll give you that, at least." You murmured, watching his hand painfully work his length.

You started rubbing yourself, two fingers circling your neglected clit at a good rhythm. James's eyes were locked on the side, his breathing coming out ragged as he watched you touch yourself while his hips bucked up into his hand before jerking away from the pain of overstimulation.

Your fingers moved faster, breathing getting heavier. "Fuck, you really do look so pretty like that." You mused, looking at his glassy eyes and tear streaked cheeks, bruised lips pursed in a pathetic little pout, soft little whimpers leaving him along with the sobs he did his best to choke back. "Just a good boy, all this pain for a little satisfaction?" You asked. "Doing everything mommy tells you to, huh?" He still couldn't take his eyes off your fingers on your glistening cunt. "Perfect little slut."

He couldn't take it anymore and crawled across the bed, grabbing your hips and holding you in place while he buried his face in your cunt, hungrily lapping at your folds while he humped the mattress. You gasped at his little burst but quickly relaxed, liking this much better. "Ah- oh fuck, James! Oh god, oh you know how to do something right." You said between moans as you threw your head back, leaning back on your hands while you let him eat you out.

He looked up at you, desperate eyes locking on yours when you looked back down at him, aching for praise, something to show he was doing it right. "Oh, fuck, you're mommy's good boy, aren't you? Keep-keep doing that- fuck!" You reach for the back of his head, fingers tangling in his lank blond hair and giving it a harsh tug which he just moaned at.

He was whining into your cunt, hips sputtering as he fucked your mattress. His brows knit together as he watched your every expression, loving the way your hips moved against his face as his tongue dipped into you, clit bumping his nose and drawing out little sounds.

"Ah-ah! James! James, you're-you're gonna make me cum!" You moaned out loudly, words echoing off the walls. Your legs twitched, knot quickly building in your gut before snapping as you came.

James lapped up everything, every little drop that squeezed out your pussy landed on his tongue sooner or later. He was getting too desperate, licking a little too low and that's when you yanked his hair back. "Fuck, you're good but not that good." You scolded, glaring down at him.

"M'sorry, m'so sorry, mommy." His brain was fried, the words came out all mumbled and slurred but he couldn't do anything about it now so he just leaned against your thigh, searching for some comfort.

Instead you got off the bed and left him alone. "Can you roll over for me?" You asked, tone a lot softer than it had been as you walked over to your closet. You went to look for clothes so you could change after you showered, glancing back you saw James flopping onto his back, dick limp and dead on his abdomen, a milky white puddle where he'd been rutting into your sheets.

[allmoshnobrain]

are you gonna make me cry with Heartbreaker 25?

🩷🖤

Oh no, anon! 25 is not gonna be too sad I promise

Parts 26 and 27 on the other hand are... Complicated

[sai-int]

hihi i recently discovered your blog and i am in love with you writing!! it’s so beautiful and i wish i could wallpaper it to the insides of the brain tehe i’m super interested to see how you’d write daddy kink with either price or simon (or whoever else you see most fit)! i wanted to keep this req general/basic so you could really do anything you want with it but here are some dynamics/au’s/etc. that i find enjoyable, in general, in case it sparks anything: soft dom, leashes/crawling, wild west au (bonus points for boot riding 🫣), boxer au, butcher!char x florist!reader, and ballerina!reader. (sorry felt like that list was all over the place LOL.)

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! And ooooou anon. The way I evilly rubbed my hands together when I read this... Also, if you're looking for price and boot riding, look no further.

Here's some butcher!simon x fem!florist!reader, plus a sprinkle of softdom!simon w a daddy kink

The bell over the shop door chimes, delicate and bright—a sound far too gentle for the man who steps inside. Simon's too big for a place like this, too heavy with the scent of blood and metal. The air, thick with lavender and roses, should soften him—but instead, he makes the space feel smaller, like the walls close in just for him.

You barely look up from the bouquet in your hands, carefully tying off a bundle of peonies. "You're late," you murmur, but there's no real scolding behind it, just soft acknowledgment.

Simon grunts, gently shutting the door behind him. His boots hit the wooden floor with their usual weight as he steps closer, watching you with an unreadable, steady gaze. "Had a long day," he mutters. "Some tosser ordered a full side o' beef last minute. Took me the better part o' the afternoon t'quarter it."

You frown, already wiping your hands on your apron, instinctively stepping toward him. "Oh, Si," you hum, reaching to brush your fingers over his forearm. "That sounds awful. You must be exhausted."

His fingers twitch, his gaze dropping to where your soft hand press against his skin. You always touch him so freely, without hesitation—like he wasn't too big, too rough, too covered in things you had no business being near.

Simon exhales, his shoulders shifting. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," you say, voice soft, warm. "Doesn't mean you should have to."

That makes him pause. He tilts his head, watching you carefully, his hands already finding their place at your waist, large and warm. You fit against him so easily, so naturally, like you belong right there.

Your eyes flick downward, catching the faint streak of something crimson near his elbow.

"Simon." You frown, taking his wrist between your hands, your delicate fingers turning it slightly. "You've still got—"

"Blood," he supplies flatly.

You swallow, your fingers smoothing gently over the stain. "You should've washed up more before coming here."

His lips twitch. "Didn't want t'keep y'waiting, dollface."

Your heart squeezes at that, warmth blooming in your chest. He's never the type to say much, but little things like this—small, quiet acts of care—spoke louder than words ever could.

You wrap your arms around him, looping them around his middle, pressing yourself against his broad chest. He's solid as ever, warm as always. You hold him tightly, sighing against the fabric of his shirt.

"You take such good care of me, you know that?"

His hands flex on your waist, his fingers spreading wide, like he's trying to feel all of you at once.

"Yeah?' His voice drops to something lower, something rougher.

You nod, rubbing your cheek lightly against his chest. "Mhm. You always make sure I'm safe— always there for me." You smile softly against him, letting yourself sink into his warmth. "So good to me."

His arms tighten around you, pressing you firmly against him, one hand trailing up your back, fingers tangling briefly in the little bow of your apron. "Course I am," he mutters, his voice thick with something deeper, heavier. "Gotta look after what’s mine, yeah?"

That makes your stomach flutter, your breath hitch.

Your voice softens, warmer, something meant just for him. "That's why I love being yours," you breath, your breath warm against his skin. You let the words linger, let them settle between you, before you add, in a whisper full of quiet, saccharine affection—

"Daddy."

Simon tenses in your hold, a sharp inhale cutting through the air. His hands tightens at your waist, fingers digging in, just shy of rough.

Posessive

"Fuck, dove" he rasps, voice strained. Then, in a rough whisper, like he was barely holding himself together— "Right here? In the middle of y'shop?"

You giggle, shaking your head. "No, not here," you hum, still teasing, still warm against him. "But I get off in an hour."

His grip stayed firm, his nose brushing against your temple, his voice dropping even lower.

"I could get you off in less."

Your mouth falls slack in shock before you huff, swatting at his arm. "Si!"

He chuckles, smug as ever, his grip on you unrelenting. "What?" His lips ghost the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Just sayin'"

You swat at him again, though it was weaker this time, warmth blooming in your chest, your stomach twisting with anticipation.

Simon leans back slightly, reaching into his front pocket to pull out a folded bill. With a casual ease, he slips it between his fingers, glancing down your shirt, his height making it effortless, before tucking the bill into your bra.

"F'the flowers," he said, voice rich with amusement. "Bring home somethin' nice, yeah? Something' soft."

His gaze drops to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes, dark and unreadable. "Not everything I touch has to bleed." He gently presses his lips to yours, savoring the taste of you until he can get you to himself at home.

And with that, he heads home, leaving you warm, breathless, and counting down every second until you can lock up for the night and let him keep his promise.

[simplygojo]

Gettin' A Full Service

author's note ⸺ Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!

pairing ⸺ Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x reader

word count ⸺ 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)

warnings ⸺ 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (reader receiving), intercourse, dirty sex, choking, pet names (pretty girl), fingering, slight overstimulation, mndi, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || discord channel

^^ art by @actuallyvalerie

The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro. 

He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.

The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded. 

A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work. 

His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…

The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.

Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.

Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing. 

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”

Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”

You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”

You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”

His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”

You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”

Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again. 

After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”

Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”

You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”

He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.

“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”

You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air. 

You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him. 

You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.

"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.

Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby." 

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.

"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.

Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken. 

His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.

"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."

You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."

Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side. 

He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.

"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"

He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.

"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."

"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.

Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."

Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.

"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you. 

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies. 

He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.

"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."

You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."

For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine. 

But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.

Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”

His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. 

He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken. 

The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.

Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.

“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”

Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have. 

But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.

“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.

Maybe both.

But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.

The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.

You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.

“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.

“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.

“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.

His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.

You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.

Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.

You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.

Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.

Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.

Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.

His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin. 

There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension. 

Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.

“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”

The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy. 

You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.

His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you. 

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.

The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”

Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands. 

The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.

Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Such a pretty sight.”

He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.  

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan. 

Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.

You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.

“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.

Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you. 

You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch. 

He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.

“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.

Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake. 

He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.

Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.

Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”

It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.

“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need. 

He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it. 

But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.

Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. 

He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.

Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again. 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.

Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.

“So pretty, all spread out for me.”

Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,

“Please, Toji…”

He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.

“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”

You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.

“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.

“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.

Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly. 

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you. 

Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.

Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.

“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him. 

Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.

The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge. 

Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you. 

Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.

Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.

"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...

He wasn’t done with you yet.

[renae-nicole-lynn]

Invincible x Frankenstein’s Monster!Reader

(GIFS are not mine)

So 'Why Him?' did pretty well, and it turns out I missed writing fanfiction so I decided to try my hand at some other Mark x Reader stuff. Holy fuck this is so bad I am so sorry 🫠.

Originally I thought of idea as an OC but I can’t draw for shit so Reader it is!

Why Frankenstein's Creature/The Bride? Best explanation I can come up with is watching Creature Commandos and Invincible in a short timespan 🤷‍♀️. I took inspiration from a couple of different Frankenstein's Monster/The Bride tropes from different sources and squished them all together; so that means white streaks in your hair and scars/stitches hold your limbs together and your powers are super strength, enhanced intelligence, and the ability to detach your limbs from your body and retain sentience over them.

The first time you saw him, you were perched on top of a building picking off the flaxan invaders with a rifle as they streamed through the portal and you see him through your scope. He's familiar to you, but in the moment the 'why and where' wasn't important as Atom Eve yelled at him to take the civilian in his arms to the hospital. It's not until three days later when he approaches Eve at school does it click. You've seen him around school for years, and only now does he have super powers; Mark Grayson is [title card].

Things are a little… rocky at first. You think he’s too easily influenced by his father and he thinks you’re out of your mind for that. Poor Eve is forced to play referee as arguments start spilling into the hero side of things, but even your best friend couldn’t get through you, or him for that matter.

“Why don’t hate me so much!?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t hate you!”

You’d be a hypocrite if you did.

Mark crossed his arms. “Bullshit!”

“I don’t… you piss me off because I know you have the potential to be so good, probably one of the best! But you’re too caught up in being just like daddy dearest!”

He started floating. “My dad is one of the best.”

…you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t attack you here in a high school lab, but that doesn’t stop your fists from clenching. “So that means what? You’re content on being a copy of your father instead of your own person?”

“I am my own person!”

“Bullshit!”

“Who’s going to teach me then, you?”

“You bet your ass I will! 5:00pm at Teen Team headquarters!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

You didn’t really mean to offer to teach him, but your offer stayed in the front of your mind as you punched away at one of the punching bags engineered for your strength. It's not like he's going to show up. Except he did, and you were surprised he even showed up around the time you gave... granted, ten minutes late.

Mark doesn't know why he showed up. Maybe it was a pride thing, maybe it was because of what you said. He came in almost shyly, asking if you really think he could be one of the best. You surprise both him and yourself with how quickly you reaffirm what you said before.

"Just because I do though, doesn't mean I'm going take it easy on you."

He kind of scoffed when you said this. "No offence, but I have super strength."

"Oh no way." You crack your knuckles with a grin. "So do I. Keep fighting until tap out?"

"You're on!"

You won, mostly because you managed to outmaneuver him.

Mark stayed on the ground when you realeased him from the hold you had him in. "So did you do all this to kick my ass?"

You scoff and drag a hand through your hair. "No, just seeing what I have to work with... I'm not saying learning from your dad is a bad thing." Oh how wrong you were. "But knowing different disciplines is going to help you in the long run."

He... didn't quite know what to say to that. In a way, what you were saying was similar to what his mother has been telling him and his father for years. "Same time next week?"

From there the two of you come to an agreement; the two of you spar together and you stay off each other's cases in civilian life. Plain and simple right? Wrong.

In civilian life, the two of you end up gravitating towards each other. Turns out you can find that you have a lot in common with someone when you're not constantly at each other's throats (comic books of all things, ya freakin' nerds). Before you know it, you can comfortably call him a friend, much to Eve's delight.

It's not long before the two of you hang out together outside of the supersuits, whether you're just walking around town or going to the comic book stores for the latest issues of your respective favorites. You tease him for Seance Dog and he teases you for your favorite.

You roll your eyes as you (carefully) snatch the issue back from him. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"Only if you read at least one issue of Seance Dog."

"...Fine."

He grinned brightly cutely as the two of you traded comic books “Fine!”

At some point, you do show him the rest of your abilities. He’s amazed by your intelligence, but lowkey freaks out when you casually pop your hand off your wrist and subtly let it drop to the floor. He can only watch in horrified amazement as your hand uses your fingers to scuttle along the ground and up your leg so you can reattach it. The look on his face when you yanked your head clean off your shoulders was absolutely priceless and you may or may not have a picture of it.

The two of you begin confiding in each other. He tells you about Viltrum and how he doesn't know how to live up to the legacy, to which you reiterated that just being himself should be enough and if his father or other viltrumites thought otherwise they can fuck right off. Oh the way he looked at you when you said that…

You tell him how you were created, your subsequent abandonment, and how you had to learn everything from scratch. Mark tries to ignore the white hot anger because who the fuck would just abandon you like that?! The person he's gotten to know over the last few months, as hidden as your kind heart is, you didn't deserve that. When he tells you as much, something in your eyes shifts and (surprising you both) you shyly squeeze his hand in thanks but say nothing else. Neither of you pull away for a very long time .

Realization hits for the both of you when you’re running along rooftops for patrol and swan dive off a skyscraper. You never like talking about your past, it always put you in a bad headspace. So maybe you let yourself get a little too close to the ground, not that it would have killed you you’ve tried that and other ways with obvious results. You had your grappling line ready, but before you could fire it at the next building, Mark appears out of nowhere and all but plucks you out of the air before flying to the top of the closest building.

You blink in shock at your friend as he sets you on your feet but doesn’t take his hands off your hips. “Hi?”

Even with the goggles you knew his eyes were staring deep into yours. “You’re not disposable.”

“What are you-”

His grip ever-so-slightly tightened. “You mean a lot to people; Eve, the Guardians-”

You grimaced at that. “I’m pretty sure the Guardians old or new couldn’t give-"

“Will you please let me finish?!” Something in the way his voice cracked kept you from saying anything else, and he paused before continuing on. “You mean a lot to me… If you ever feel like this again, you call me. Call me and I’ll be there.”

Your heart started doing a weird dance in your chest, and you tried to bring yourself back to reality. “You mean a lot to me too. But you can’t just promise that with our line of work.”

Something clicked for Mark then. Getting to know you, speed running to a level of trust and vulnerability that usually took years to get to within the span of a few months, what else was there to say? “Fine, then we’ll just have to stick together.”

Oh.

Oh.

It clicked for you then. This boy trusts and cares about you. He cares about your physical and emotional wellbeing and whether or not you were safe, and seems hellbent on ensuring it.

You hug him close, burying your face in his shoulder when he hugs you back.

“Okay.”

Everything and nothing changed. Despite the words and actions shared on the rooftop that evening, you both carried on as usual… save for now always being together for hero work and the emotional tension in the air.

True to the nature of your relationship leading up to this point, both of you were waiting for the other to crack. Remember the flirty sparring matches comment I made on 'Why Him'? As Mark gets better with hand-to-hand and the two of you find a flow when sparring together, a few teasing comments from the both of you are thrown here and there until eventually the two of you are point blank flirting.

Later, you'll insist he was the one who said it first and he'll argue right back that you were the one to say it.

"Loser kisses the winner?"

"You're on.”

[sudsnribbons]

My plus one | J.M

DBF!joel miller xF!Reader

MDNI

Wordcount: 3,905

Summary: your no good boyfriend breaks up with you, right before your dads big promotion dinner, that you need a date to. of course. lucky for you, joel miller was quick to offer. anything for his buddie's little girl..right?

Warnings: big hefty age gap (reader is 19 & in her first year of college, joel is early 40s), SMUTT, no outbreak!, use of 'kiddo', dirtyoldman!joel, panty stealing (he a freak), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, use of petnames (sweetheart, darlin', ect.), (1) use of y/n, getting caught? lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: This is a long one, buckle up.. Hope you enjoy reading, as much as i did writing! <33

Two days before you were supposed to come home, for your dads big promotion dinner, bad news struck you.

In the form of a text message.

"this isn't working for me anymore, we're done."

Really? That was all the asshole could say?

"what about the dinner tyler?? tf am i supposed to do?"

"you'll figure it out."

Fuck him.

Whatever, it's not like you cared.

---

Despite not having a date, you decided to head back to Austin anyways. It was the promotion your dad had waited his whole career for.

The drive was a bit long from your college, but it lined up perfectly with the start of your spring break.

You got home around 7pm, your dad was on the porch having a beer with Joel.

Joel.

It had only been a few months since the last time you saw him, but god did he look handsome.

The amber glow of the porchlight projected on his hair, laced with silver streaks.

"Hey sweetheart, you're early.." your dad muttered out to you, placing his beer on the table between him and joel.

"Yeah I just couldn't wait until tomorrow." you smiled warmly at the man, as he embraced you in a hug.

Smiling over his shoulder to the man babysitting his miller lite.

Ironic.

"Good to see you kiddo.." he said, quietly. almost like he didn't trust his voice.

Weird.

"Good to see you too mr. Miller.", you pulled away from your dad, now facing the older man. he nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "How's sarah?" you questioned.

"Busy.. y'know how that girl is." he smiled. the corners of his mouth turned up, and wrinkled a bit with his smile lines.

You nodded in understanding. deciding it was getting a little late and you wanted to shower and unpack before you went to bed.

You drag the heavy suitcase up the stairs, its wheels hitting the wood every few steps. Turning the knob and opening the door to your bedroom, you sit the suitcase down on your bed and unzip it. Grabbing an old hoodie, underwear, and pair of shorts for after your shower.

Socked feet patter down the hallway as you make your way to the bathroom, passing your mothers room and noticing her at her vanity.

"Hey sweetheart, when did you get here?" she asked, as she slid out from the seat. standing up to give you a hug. "Maybe like 20 minutes ago?" you said, over her shoulder, honestly forgetting.

She nodded and began, "So when is Tyler coming in? The dinner is in two days sweetheart." your heart kinda sunk at the mention of his name. "Oh uhm-" you didn't know how to tell her. "We broke up." you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and stared at the floor. "Oh honey are you okay?" she asked, going in for a hug once again, you declined. "Yeah mom I'm alright." she smiled at you, sad for you. "What are you going to do about the dinner?" she asked. "I'm actually not sure, I'll figure it out." she nodded her head. "I'm gonna shower, it's getting late." she agreed, and you continued to the bathroom.

Latching the door behind you, you turned the dial on the shower and let the water heat up. Steam covered the mirror and dripped down in condensation. Shedding the clothes off from the drive, you stepped under the water and sighed at the feeling of warmth embracing you.

45 minutes later, you stepped out of the shower. Skin radiating steam from the heat of the water. You grabbed a white fluffy towel and wrapped it around your body. Drying off and getting dressed, you walked down the hallway and to your room. Moving the suitcase off the bed, and untucking the comforter from the sheets. Sliding your body between the mattress and comforter you plugged in your phone and went to sleep.

--

You woke up around 8am, to the all too familiar smell of breakfast. Yawning, you grabbed your phone, slipping it into the front pocket of your hoodie. Slowly making your way down the stairs, you lock eyes with-

No.

Oh my god no.

Joel.

Joel Miller.

In your kitchen.

All the while you looked like you just rolled out of bed.

Well in your defense-

Your internal voice was cut off by his gruff one.

"Morning' kiddo." he said nonchalantly, taking a bite of bacon. "Morning?" you said confused, looking between your parents as you sat down at the table. "Honey, I was just telling your father about Tyler.." your mom started and you groaned, "Mom I don't want to talk about this right now." she shushed you, filling up your glass with orange juice from the pitcher. "No, now just listen." she tried again, your father and Joel sitting in silence. Taking a sip from your glass, you listened. "Joel doesn't have a date either.. he so kindly offered to take you!" she said smiling, taking a scoop of eggs from the pan before handing the plate to you and sitting down. You almost choked. "I'm sorry what?"  you felt like you could die from embarrassment, this can't be happening. "As a friend of course." Joel chimed in, your dad nodded. "He's just helpin' out your old man." your dad smiled towards you. "Right." you forced a bite of eggs down. Joel silently ate his breakfast as your mom began to speak once more, "now I know you probably don't have a dress yet, so we are going to head into town after breakfast to find you something nice." you nodded, taking another sip of orange juice.

God, I wish this was a mimosa.

--

You opted for a simple outfit to shop. needing something easy to change in and out of, all the while beating the Texas heat. Brushing your hair and putting a pair of sunglasses on your head. Simple makeup, fearing anything more would melt right off. Slipping on your birkenstocks, you walked down the stairs and to your mother who was ready at the door.

--

You went to every boutique your mother could drag you into. Dressing you up like a Barbie doll. After what felt like 50 dresses you tried on, you pulled back the curtain to show your mother. "This is the one, you look gorgeous sweetheart." you smiled at your mother, and turned to the mirror to admire the dress. It was black, about ankle length that hugged your body perfectly. The top dipped down enough to show a little cleavage, but still classy. You nodded towards your mother and went to get changed.

You bought a pair of black heels to compliment. opting to match, instead of drawing away from the dress.

Your mother offered to buy lunch, which you accepted kindly. Stopping in at your favorite local spot and ordering a turkey sandwich.

The car pulled into the driveway around 2:30. Opening the door to get out. Then pulling the dress out, that was wrapped in a white dress bag.

"Did you find one honey?" your father asked as you set down the keys on the table. "She did but you have to wait until tomorrow night to see it." she smiled at your father and you walked upstairs to hang the dress up.

--

"you really don't have to do this mr. miller." you typed out to him. As much as you wanted this, you didn't want him to see you like a chore.

"Joel." he corrected. "And I offered, didn't I?" he replied.

"yeah you did. joel." you smiled and typed back.

Your heart pounded as you saw the three dots on the screen, waiting for his reply.

"i'll see you at 7 tomorrow night sweetheart."

You hearted his message.

God I hope that wasn't too forward.

Unhearting his message, you went downstairs to help prep for dinner.

--

Snoozing the first few alarms, you finally got up around 1pm. "Shit." you muttered out, not meaning to sleep in so late.

Opting for a quick breakfast, lunch. You ate a greek yogurt cup topped with granola and a few strawberries.

You got in the shower around two. You decided to take an everything shower, I mean anything could happen... right?

Getting out around 3pm, you blow dried your hair. Sitting down at your vanity, you curl and roll your hair, wanting a blowout look.

That took about 30 minutes. You didn't want to go too crazy with your makeup, but still enough to compliment your dress. You went for a black and dark brown smokey eye look, with thin eyeliner and big lashes.

You got done with your makeup at 5:30. You have an hour and a half before Joel arrives.

Walking down the hallway, hair still in rollers, in a full face of makeup, tank top and sweatpants from earlier. "You look so pretty sugar." your mother compliments. She was dressed in a navy blue dress, a little looser than yours but overall gorgeous. "Thank you momma.." you smiled back at the woman, "So do you." she smiled and your father came out with a tie in hand, he never could tie one by himself. "Still can't tie it?" you teased the man as he handed the silk to your mother who quickly helped him. "What would I do without you baby?" he questioned your mother, kissing her lips. "You'd be lost." she teased back, "Damn right." he looked at her with so much love as he combed his hair. "We are leaving soon." your dad said, turning to you. "I thought it started at 7?" you questioned. he nodded, "Yes sweetheart but I have to be there early. Have to make a good impression." he replied. "Joel will be here around 6:30.. You should put your dress on." your mother muttered. "Yeah that's what I was gonna ask, I need you to zip me up." the older woman nodded.

You walked down the hallway and into your room. Unzipping the bag and pulling out the dress. You slid the dress pooling at your feet, up your body and tucking your arms into the straps. You waddled from your room to your mothers to get her help zipping you up. you thanked her and hurried back to your room to undo the rollers that have been sitting in your hair. "Perfect." you smiled, satisfied with how they turned out. Taking your shoes from the box, you slid them on. Taking a once over of yourself in the mirror. Grabbing your clutch and phone, spritzing yourself with perfume before walking down the stairs. As soon as you reached the bottom the doorbell rang.

Perfect timing.

Your manicured hand wrapped around the silver door knob and twisted, the door opening to reveal a handsome older man. "Joel." you muttered.

He was dressed in a tux, you've never seen him so put together. His beautiful eyes went wide, looking you up and down. Clearing his throat, "You look beautiful kiddo." you smiled at the man, "Thank you.. shall we?" you asked and he nodded, shutting and locking the door behind you.

He opened the passenger door to his truck. God did he have to be a gentleman too?

Tucking your legs in, he shut the door behind you, rounding the hood of the car and joining you in the bench seat.

The car ride was silent. Stolen glances every once in a while. Pulling up to the venue, you sighed to yourself. Feeling some relief of the tension in the truck.

He opened your door and helped you out, placing his hand modestly on the small of your back.

You wished he let his hand roam a little lower, just for a moment.

With your arms linked, you entered the ballroom. Beautifully decorated for the occasion. your mother was the first to come up to you. "Oh my sweet girl you look beautiful." your mother kissed your cheek and turned to joel. "You don't clean up too bad Miller." she teased the man. "Thank ya ma'am." God that southern drawl..

The dinner lasted about 2 hours, your feet killing you. Damn those heels.

Your mother and father held back a bit, soaking up the congratulations from his new role in the company.

"Are you ready to head home sweetheart? gettin' late." Joel asked, you nodded standing up from the table.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as the two of you walked back to his truck. Sliding off those cursed heels as soon as the door closed, you relaxed against the seat, taking a deep breath.

Joel buckled in and looked over to you, his restraint was tested more and more with each rise and fall of your chest, "Got a starin' problem miller." his heart dropped as you muttered out, raising your head to look over at the man starting his truck. "Don't know what youre talkin' about kid." he said under his breath, knuckles white gripping on the wheel.

As he pulled out of the parking lot you had decided to test him, "Oh but I think I do...Mr. Miller" you teased. You wanted a reaction, something, anything. "That's enough." he muttered, eyes locked onto the road. You pulled your hair to one side of your neck, leaving your collarbone and dainty necklace on display. The necklace curving right at the dip of your cleavage.

You wanted him to break. lose control. You wanted him. "See, I just don't think it's enough Miller." you pressed the matter further, voice softening with his name on your tongue, "I think there's a reason you offered to take me Joel.." you turned towards him in the bench seat.

"Just helpin' a friend sweetheart.." he almost whispered out, trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you. The bench seat gave you more room to.. explore.

Sliding your foot over to his lap, tracing up and down his thigh. You could have sworn you saw the start of an outline in his pants. "Knock it off.." he tried, not really though. He didn't want you to stop.

You continued tracing his thigh, heel of your foot dipping down to the zipper of his dress pants. His restraint snapped like a cheap rubber band. His thick fingers wrapped around your ankle, "You tryna' get us killed girl?" he questioned, His face illuminated with the red from the stoplight. Looking down at his hold on your ankle, and the bulge underneath it.

Your breath got heavy, as he looked at you with those dark brown eyes, "Joel." you squealed out, like a mouse caught by a cat. Your body tensed under his touch. "Not so bold now sweetheart.. What happened?" he questioned, toying with you.

His fingers traced your ankle, and up your calf. Stopping at the bed of your knee. "Please.." you whispered out. "Please what darlin'?" he asked. He knew what you wanted, but Joel was the kinda man who needed to hear you say it. you shyed a bit, face flushing red. "Don't make me say it joel." you begged. He just laughed.

The fucker laughed at you.

Pulling over on the side of a back road, he turned to you. "Can't give ya what y'want if you don't tell me sweetheart." he traced up your leg, higher this time. Feeling your thigh under your dress. "Y-You joel." your voice failed you, stuttering from nervousness. "Me? Well y'got me darlin'. What d'ya want me for?" he asked, teasing you again. He wasn't gonna let you off that easily.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you scooted closer to the man. legs in his lap fully now. Hardness pressing against the bend of your knee. "Need you to touch me Miller.." you sighed out breathlessly. "There we go honey.. Wasn't that hard, was it now?" he smiled satisfied with your answer. You whimpered out frustrated. You needed him to do something.. anything. "What would yer daddy think of you all whiney for me in my truck huh?" he asked, clearly getting off on how squirmy he was making you, "Those college boys not do it for ya sweetheart?" you shook your head, "Need you Joel.." he snickers, "I know yer always needin' somethin' ain't ya?" he questioned rhetorically.

He bunched up your dress, you lifted your hips so he could get it to your waist. "Soaked for me darlin'" he laughs, pressing a thick finger to the wet patch on your underwear. You whined and bucked your hips, "Joel quit teasin'.." you begged. "Ah ah who's in charge here baby?" he asked, "You Joel.." he smiled pleased at you a wreck for him already. "Atta girl." he hooked his fingers in the elastic waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and past your ankles. He reached over you, opening his glove box, throwing the pair in and shutting it back. "Don't need those, do ya sweetheart?" he asked and you were quick to shake your head.

Dirty old man.

Yet here you are absolutely soaked for said 'dirty old man'.

His thick finger traced your slit, teasing you. Your hips bucked again searching for friction. Joel was quick to correct you, using his hand on your stomach to hold you down. "Now you take what I give ya or yer gettin' nothin' t'all" he muttered out with dark eyes. You nodded.

His finger dipped past your folds and into you. "Oh god joel." you whined out, still under his hold. "Barely touched ya and yer goin' crazy.." he trailed off, "What 'm i gonna do with ya huh?" he questioned, but before you could answer he added another finger. Stretching you out deliciously. "C'mon sweetheart if you can't take this you sure as hell ain't gonna be able to take me.." he said cockily, replying to your moans.

His fingers pumped in and out, curling in, like he knew your body better than you did.

Sure as hell felt like it.

"Close Joel.." was all you could manage to get out. That band in your belly wound tighter and tighter with each thrust of his hand. "C'mon baby girl let go f'me." he said, leaning over you to kiss down your neck.

That was all it took.

Those words.

His mouth.

Your back arched off the red leather of the old pickup truck he's always driving. Chest heaving as you came down from one hell of a high.

A thin layer of sweat covered your body as you leaned your head up to look at the man between your legs. Smug as ever he locked gaze with your eyes, taking his fingers in his mouth, tasting you. His eyes rolled back as the sweet tang filled his mouth. "Taste like heaven sweetheart.." he wiped the saliva off his fingers and onto his dress pants.

You smiled up at the man, still drunk on the high you just came down from. "You think y'ready for me honey?" he asked as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it down to the floorboard. You nodded, wanting nothing more than to feel him. For real this time.

"Words baby.." he teased, "Yes! please God." you whined out, "M'name ain't God.." he joked.

Smug son of a bitch.

He pushed down his black slacks, his boxers following suit. His cock sprung out, and your eyes went wide. "You flatter me sweetheart." he chuckles, undoing his tie and discarding it to the floorboard.

"Shit." his face dropped when he realized, "I don't have a condom." he looked down at you, still catching your breath. "Don't care.. m'clean.." he shook his head, "Y'sure bout' this?" he questioned. "Can't come back from this sugar.." he tried again but you didn't care.

You wanted this. Wanted him.

"Fuck me already Miller." you managed to get out, and he just laughed. "Ain't nothin' but trouble.." he sighed out, pushing the head of his cock between your folds. You gasped out as he began to slide into you.

"F-Fuck Joel.." you cried out, slumping against the door of his truck, "You can take it baby I'm right here.. trust me." you swallowed hard at his words, burying himself into you, fully to the hilt. He gave you a minute to adjust.  "You can move.." you whimpered and he took the green light to slowly pull out almost all the way, before plunging right back in.

"S'dirty for wantin' this trouble.." he used that nickname again. Your back arched with every thrust. "Wantin' yer old man's best friend like this.." he rubbed it in more, like salt in a wound.

You did feel guilty..

But more so, of the effect his words were having on you.

His dirty words went straight to your core, winding that band tighter and tighter..

"Joel.." you whined, all this becoming too much.. you couldn't last much longer. "I know baby I know.." he teased.. picking up the pace a bit. Your eyes started to roll back in your head, and you were clenching harder and harder.. He leaned down, taking your neck in his hold and pulling you to him. Pressing his lips to yours.

He grunted through the kiss, your moans mixing in. pulling back from the kiss he picked up the pace once more, "C'mon trouble give me one more.." he asked, and you obeyed. Almost as quickly as he asked, you delivered. Back arching off the red leather again. White heat over taking your body. Thighs shaking as you came down. and Joel? he was fucking you through it. His body shuttered and you knew he couldn't last much longer.

"M'on the pill.." you muttered out, and that was all Joel needed to hear. With a few more thrusts he buried into one last time, releasing inside. Filling you up.

Sweat covered the both of you as he pulled out. The mixture of both his and your release pooling between your thighs. He reached in his floor, trying to find something to clean you up with.

Settling on his tie, he bunched the fabric and cleaned you up, throwing the soiled tie in the back seat. You tried to catch your breath, pulling your dress back down to your ankles and buckling up like nothing happened. Joel got situated and buckled, turning over the truck as you slipped your black heels back on.

You did not miss those. You thought as you picked up your phone from the floor. Heart dropping when you look at the time. 11:57pm "Shit." you muttered, dozens of missed calls from your parents you were too.. busy to hear. "Joel, I need to get home..now." you showed him your phone and he pulled out of the back road and onto the main one.

You finally got home at 12:20am..

Saying your goodbyes to Joel with a promise of this happening again. Smelling like sex, with your hair and dress a mess, you fished out your key from the small clutch you brought with you. You locked the door behind you, slipping off your shoes and taking them in one hand. Thinking you're out of the woods, you start to tiptoe up the stairs. When you are halfway to your room, the hallway light flickers on and you hear your mother, "Y/n?"

Fuck.

[bbokicidal]

"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]

Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]

Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader

Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!

Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.

These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.

Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work

The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.

It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --

It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.

Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school

A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.

Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.

He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.

It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.

Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend

Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.

You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.

Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.

You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.

The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.

Hyunjin - He cheats online

It started with the fucking instagram models.

Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.

He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.

You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.

He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.

Han - He cheats while on tour

He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??

He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.

Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.

You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.

Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.

Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)

Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know

Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.

He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.

You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.

He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.

"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"

I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee

It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.

She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.

He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.

You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.

"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."

He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."

Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.

"Oh, mate..."

Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground

[parkjihoonswifey]

Requested by: @j1c1c666

"Hello! Could you please do something about the reader and Sieun having an established relationship, but Sieun being insecure about being a good boyfriend since he has trouble expressing his feelings, is not romantic and physically affectionate (I'm sorry if it's a bit confusing, English is not my native language)"

A/N: what I came up for this was not at all kinda like the request and I'm really sorry for that but I really suck at angst stuff and I usually don't write it but I hope you enjoy this anyway.

Title: What's the use of feeling?

Pairings: Si-eun x Reader

Warnings: angsty(?) except I'm terrible at writing sad stuff so not really angst.

You never expected a whole year to pass so quietly, so completely.

Yeon Si-eun was not the kind of boyfriend who overwhelmed you with gestures or elaborate words. He didn’t light up rooms or turn heads, but he knew how to look at you like the world made sense when you were near. He didn’t say “I love you” often, but when he held your hand, you felt it. Steady and unshakable.

You couldn’t have asked for more, except lately, things had started to feel off.

It started about a month ago when you and Baku had started spending more time together—at first with others around, but soon it turned into just the two of you. Studying turned into coffee. Coffee turned into movies. He even came over once to help hang some shelves in your room.

You hadn’t thought much of it at first. Baku was loud, brash, and borderline ridiculous, but he had energy. The kind that dragged people into spontaneous ideas and stupid bets. The kind that made even the dullest afternoon feel like something might happen.

He made things change. Si-eun was the first to notice.

He never asked. Never complained. But you saw the subtle changes—how he stopped checking in before bed, how he responded with just one word when you texted. How he started avoiding you between classes, like he couldn’t think of anything to say.

You tried not to overthink it.

But then, the week leading up to your anniversary, he didn’t reach out at all.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was Friday evening when you heard the doorbell.

You weren’t expecting anyone. You padded to the door, hands still streaked with paint from the banner you were making.

When you opened it and your breath caught. It was Si-eun.

His coat was damp from the drizzle outside. Hair slightly mussed. He didn’t say anything—just stood there, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to make sense of being there at all.

You blinked. “Si-eun?”

He gave a shallow nod. “I was nearby.”

You stepped aside instinctively. “Do you want to come in?”

His eyes flicked past your shoulder—into the warm glow of the living room, where bags of decorations and empty snack wrappers lay strewn about. There was still an open box of party favors on the floor.

Then another voice rang out.

“Did you find the scissors? I think I packed them with the balloons—wait, never mind, got them!”

Baku.

Si-eun’s jaw barely moved, but his posture changed. Subtle. A shift of the shoulders. A stiffness in the way he stood.

You felt your stomach drop. “It’s not what it looks like.”

He didn’t respond.

“Si-eun, please—”

He turned.

You grabbed his wrist without thinking. “Wait.”

He stopped. Didn’t look at you.

Your voice dropped. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He stayed silent, but you could hear the air shift—like something was building inside him. Not anger, but something worse. Hurt. Something he didn’t want to show but couldn’t hide completely.

“You’ve been distant,” you said. “Not just this week. Before that. Ever since Baku and I started hanging out."

Nothing.

“You think something’s going on between us, don’t you?”

Finally, he turned his head. Just enough to meet your gaze.

"He's so—energetic. I'm nothing like him. He's outgoing, He makes you laugh, he's even at your house more than I am. I'm sorry I couldn't be better—for you or for myself. I understand if you don't wanna do this anymore—us. Just—"

His eyes weren’t angry. Just tired. Worn down by whatever thoughts had been eating at him.

“Why him?” he asked. Flat. Quiet.

The words hit harder than if he’d yelled.

“Because,” you said carefully, “he’s been helping me plan something.”

Still no reaction.

You took a breath. “Our one-year anniversary. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

A pause.

“I wanted to do something special for you.”

His eyes dropped to the floor.

“All the movies. The time at his place. The late texts. It was all for this. For you.”

You hesitated, then stepped closer. “I should’ve told you. I didn’t think it would bother you this much. I didn’t think you’d ever think I’d choose someone else.”

He didn’t answer.

But the silence was louder now—less like absence, more like holding back.

You reached for his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… stay. Come inside.”

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then slowly, he stepped past you.

The living room looked like a construction site for chaos. Half-inflated balloons. Banner letters scattered across the floor. You’d even tried to bake earlier—burnt cookies sat on the counter like small disasters.

Si-eun stood in the middle of it, scanning everything with that same unreadable face.

“It’s not finished,” you said. “It was supposed to be a surprise tomorrow, but...”

You trailed off.

He was staring at the table.

A hoodie lay folded neatly, with his initials and yours embroidered on it. It had taken you a week to get it done. You weren’t even sure he’d wear something like that. But it felt right.

You moved beside him. “I thought you might like something small. Personal.”

Still no words.

He reached out and touched the fabric. Not like someone checking a gift—but like someone confirming it was real.

“I know I spend time with Baku,” you said. “And maybe it looked like something. But I never once thought about him like that. It’s always been you, so what's the use of feeling so blue about it?"

His shoulders eased, barely noticeable. But you felt it.

You nudged him gently. “You don’t have to say anything.”

He didn’t.

But when you looked up, his hand was already reaching for yours.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Later that night, you sat on the couch together in the middle of the mess. He hadn’t spoken much since, but he hadn’t let go of your hand either. His thumb moved against yours slowly, like he was still grounding himself in the moment.

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Are we okay?”

A long silence.

Then a single "Mmhm."

You smiled, even if he didn’t see it. “Next time, just ask me. Don’t hold it in.”

He didn’t answer.

But after a moment, his hand tightened around yours.

And that was enough.

A/N: again I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind I'm just trying my best to get stories out.

[ddejavvu]

hi mei!! i absolutely adore your writing, you're amazing!!

could i ask you to write for reader who's touch starved and really wants a tight hug from remus, but doesn't dare ask for it for fear of being too clingy?

i am so sorry if you've written this before, i binge-read your entire masterlist a little while back but my memory is also Very Bad-

"The quiet one's brooding again."

You glance up from your notebook to meet Sirius's squinted eyes, his brows slanted at you where you sit trying to focus on your work. You're not brooding, you're just not smiling. He kicks at you beneath the table, "What's'a matter, grumpy, your essay not long enough?"

"It's fine." You grumble, "I'm just having trouble editing."

"It's late." James scrubs a hand over his face, nearly tugging his glasses out from behind his ears. He lets the hand drag through his hair, nearly wrenching strands out where they've curled into each other, "I'm fading myself."

"I can't sleep until I finish." You groan, and suddenly everything is a bit overwhelming, the press of James's thigh against yours, the way Sirius's foot is still nudging yours beneath the table, the scratch of your sweater against your bare skin.

You vault from your seat, rushing towards the common room fire with staggering steps that probably invoke suspicions of booze from your friends. Finals are stressful, and you're always worried about the looming prospect of The Future, and that's concerning enough if you pass your exams. The thought of failing them and making whatever The Future is worse- well that's what's got your hands trembling. You grasp them together like you're cold, and it helps, but the shake is deeper than your extremities.

"Y/N," Remus calls, and you hear his voice get closer, not louder, as he approaches where you stand at the fire. You stare at the flames as an excuse to not meet his eyes, and they burn your vision, but you can't bring yourself to look away.

"I just need a minute." You squeeze tighter at your own fingers, the touch stinging but calming, "I'm tired and- and I just want to be done with my work and go to bed."

"I can edit." Remus suggests, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. For all its softness you react like it's an anvil, letting it pile onto the weight already draped over your shoulders like a yoke and nearly falling back into Remus.

"Oh," Is all he manages to say before taking a leap of faith and sliding his hand from your shoulder to your waist, wrapping the other one around your hip to meet it. His hands rest on your stomach and he stands there being warmed by the fire with you, watching the way your hands squeeze each other tighter.

"I wish we could stay in school forever." You manage, your voice cracked and breaking, "I- I'm worried about getting a real job, and paying for housing, and- and never seeing my friends again because I'm too busy working."

"I know. Don't worry, though. You'll have a good shot in the job market, though, and if you're ever in need of a place to stay, you know James's mom will tuck you in like you're hers. You could live on her plastic-wrapped couch for the rest of your life if you had to."

"I couldn't sleep with all the crinkling," You laugh, even though two tears still streak down your cheeks. You sniffle, and your nose scrunches, but your face quickly widens with a yawn, "God, I'm so fucking- tired, I just-"

"Go sleep." Remus urges, squeezing you once and letting go, "I'll proofread your essay, and I'll make sure Sirius doesn't write penis on it again like he did last time."

"As the fucking title," You growl, a forgotten fury now rising once more in your gut, "You know what? I think I can manage to stay awake just long enough to change his name at the top to Sirius Balls without him noticing."

"I'll distract him." Remus promises, throwing a glance back at the man currently ignoring his essay in favor of chattering with James, "Throw in a swear or two for me, yeah?"

"Deal." You let him grab your hand before you depart, and he squeezes it much kinder than you'd squeezed yourself.

"Hey. If you get like that again, you can ask for a hug."

Instantly, you're a little sheepish, but you power through it to nod, "Thanks, Remus."

He nods once, then lets your hand go, "Hey, Sirius, you mind walking down to the kitchens with me to get some more wine from the professors' stash?"

Sirius is on his feet in an instant, plenty of years' experience with not only stealing, but stealing booze, "How many bottles do y'think we can carry?"

"Enough to make sure you don't proofread well." You suggest, grinning coyly, and James turns a blind eye, smirking, when Sirius's quill is in your hand the moment the portrait hole shuts.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.10  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.12 (getting close to the end)

p.11

AN: very very very sorry for the late post! I do have a clear ending in mind for this (typed up my outlines and everything) and I'm hoping to wrap it up soon--thank you for your love and support! and my cute anons asking for updates. it really had been encouraging even when i'm not feeling great. I hope this chapter is up to par, been feeing a bit of a block and a bit shy with posting. sometimes I focus on the negative and forget i'm doing this as a hobby. (get a bit self conscious and wonder if i'm even good at writing haha) so thank you again for the love and support. If this sounds disorganized please tolerate me ♥️ i'm ranting now, so please--

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

anons, anons, anons (if i say it three times will you appear?♥️)

Your eyes locked onto it immediately.

He’d forgotten his school bag at home, which was so uncharacteristic for the always-on-top-of-it Megumi. The fact that he's gone off without it was a surprise in and of itself.

And being the good, responsible figure you were, you decided you needed to get it back to him. Sure, you could’ve just texted him, but the nagging curiosity ate away in the back of your mind.

You deserved that much…right? 

Over the past few years, both you and Megumi had grown, though in ways that felt fundamentally different. It seemed like only yesterday when you towered over him by at least a foot, but now, at 22, standing on the edge of what felt like both everything and nothing, you began to pick up on more around you. Each time he came back, it was as though he had learned something new, gained some insight or skill that added to the ever-growing distance between the person he was and the person he was becoming.

And with those changes came those unwelcome feelings that gnawed at the back of your mind. Jealousy—Admiration. A sense of responsibility that weighed heavier than it had any right to. Overwhelming affection that felt almost instinctive, but no less unsettling. A little too...much for deep thought. And astonishment at the person who regularly sat in front of you at the dinner table—so far removed from the boy you once knew. 

Meanwhile, your life felt stuck in place, confined to the monotony of daily errands and long hours indoors. Days blurred together, weeks slipped by unnoticed, and yet that nagging ache in the back of your mind never left. So desperate to go off the beaten path. 

And the trail leading to Jujutsu High was gorgeous. Thick trees lined the path, their leafy branches casting intricate shadows on the pavement. The sunlight peeked through in golden streaks, making the entire scene feel almost surreal. The warmth on your face nearly euphoric. You’d only ever seen pictures of this place when you looked it up online, but they didn’t do it justice. 

“Woah. And who might you be?” 

The sudden voice shattered your focus, making you spin around so fast you nearly lost your footing. Your pulse spiked, heart pounding in your chest as you stumbled back a step, clutching the two bags in your hands like a damn lifeline. For a brief moment, the world around you blurred, leaving only a splotch of leaves in your line of sight.

Your gaze snapped to a face far too close for comfort—definitely too close.

White, unruly hair, gleamed in the sunlight, but it was his eyes, so unnervingly blue, that froze you in place. He was undeniably handsome. But the smirk that graced his face and the look in his eye as his head tilted slightly, was unnerving. As if you were some curious puzzle he’d stumbled upon.

“Lost?” he asked, his tone light and teasing, but there was an undeniable weight in his presence that sent a shiver down your spine. Then it hit you—the suffocating wave of cursed energy radiating off him. It was staggering, an oppressive force pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe. How had you not felt it before? It rolled off him in unrelenting waves, so overwhelming it left you momentarily speechless, rooted to the spot.

“What? You shy?”

His voice broke the silence, dripping with that insufferable amusement. He was just as bad as Toji it seemed. He tilted his head a bit more, his eyes glinting mischievously, as if your reaction was the highlight of his day. Your irritation felt obvious, but it was quickly drowned out by the lingering unease that his cursed energy evoked. Stranger danger. stranger danger.

You instinctively stepped back, trying to create some distance, but he didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned in closer, his presence invading your space with an air of lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world to unravel whatever it was he found so intriguing about you.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he spoke again, the lilt in his tone making your cheeks heat with something closer to indignation. Still, you weren’t about to be rude—not with someone who exudes this kind of power. Not when he was the only one walking down this path with you. Not another soul in sight.

“Sorry,” your voice wavering slightly. “Do you… work here?” The hesitation in your tone was unmistakable, and his response was immediate—a wide grin stretching across his face. Fitting.

“That depends… who’s asking?” 

Before you could respond, your name rang out, a deep voice, heavy and familiar, cutting through the air from behind you. The grin faltered on the man’s face for the briefest of moments, replaced by a flicker of surprise as his eyes shifted past you to the source. You turned instinctively, already recognizing who it belonged to, even before you saw him.

Of course, it was Megumi.

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was blunt, almost tense, as he closed the distance between you in a few long, purposeful strides. There was no warmth, no casual greeting—just that demanding tone that made your chest tighten.

Why did he look so upset?

Oh, did you... mess up?

You barely had a chance to open your mouth before he was standing right in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. His eyes scanned over you as if he was checking for some kind of damage you hadn’t even realized might be there.

“You... left your bag at home,” you voice was soft, quiet. He didn't seem to acknowledge your words as you attempt to hold up the bag. Proof of your...innocence? Why would you even need a reason to be here? You weren't doing anything wrong.

His expression never wavered, the clench of his jaw making it clear that your answer hadn’t fully soothed whatever was bothering him. His grip on your shoulders softened slightly, though he gave them a small squeeze, almost reassuring. But his attention shifted.

Gaze moving past you, and you felt the change immediately. His posture stiffened, his whole demeanor shifting into something colder, more guarded. Without a word, he stepped in front of you, his body casually yet deliberately placing itself between you and the white-haired man. His shoulders completely blocking you from view. The movement was subtle, but the message was clear. Just how did Megumi know a man like this?

“Gojo-sensei,” —Ah.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you were on a mission.”

The man—Gojo—let out a heavily dramatic sigh, looking completely unbothered by Megumi’s tone. “Finished early,” he replied with a casual shrug, hands crossing behind his head, far too relaxed. “But who’s this you’re hiding?”

His voice gave you chills, and you shifted uncomfortably, not able to see him, but no doubt that creepy grin was still slapped across his face. Gojo didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned slightly, trying to catch a better look at you around Megumi’s frame. “She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”

“No,” Megumi shot back, the word flat and final, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Touchy, huh?” His voice was playful, almost sing-song, but the way his gaze lingered on you felt a little too probing, a little too long for comfort had Megumi clenching his fists.

You swallowed hard, heat rising to your cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment, unease, or the palpable tension between him and Megumi, you couldn’t quite tell. You hadn’t interacted with Gojo much, but the way Megumi’s entire presence had shifted told you everything you needed to know—Gojo wasn’t exactly a welcome sight. Whatever lightness existed in the air before was gone, replaced by an invisible but tangible weight pressing between the three of you.

Gojo might not have been dangerous, but he definitely gave the impression of someone who liked to push boundaries just to see how far he could go. His teasing nature seemed to thrive on reactions, and you could tell Megumi wasn’t in the mood to indulge him.

A stray thought crept into your mind....maybe Megumi had never mentioned you to anyone here... The idea hit harder than you expected, a dull ache settling in your chest. You banished it before it could take root—now wasn’t the time.

“Yo! There you guys are!”

A bright and cheery voice shattered the lingering tension. You turned to see a pink-haired boy jogging toward the group, a huge grin plastered across his face. His eyes were wide and warm, his energy unmistakable—this had to be the friend from the photo Megumi sent. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a friendliness so genuine it seemed to pour off him in waves, reminding you immediately of an overexcited puppy.

Megumi stiffened beside you, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch before reluctantly offering a grumbled greeting. Yuji skidded to a stop just in front of you, planting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He straightened quickly, his grin softening into something almost shy when his eyes landed on you.

“Oh, hi!” he said, a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his smile still firmly in place. “Sorry—I’m Yuji Itadori! You must be… uh…” His voice trailed off as his brow furrowed, the wheels in his head clearly turning as he tried to piece together who you might be.

Megumi let out a long sigh, his irritation practically radiating off him. “She’s with me,” he said flatly, stepping just slightly closer to you, his tone making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for explanations.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his presence a much needed distraction. “Nice to meet you, Yuji,” you said warmly. Yuji’s face lit up even more at your friendly response. “Wow, Fushiguro never said anything about—”THWACK!

Before he could finish, Megumi stepped forward and smacked Yuji on the back of the head with a loud thunk that echoed down the trail, making you jump.

“Megumi!” surprise flooding your tone, trying to sound somewhat scolding. This had to be a first. You'd never seen Megumi so...

Yuji barely flinched, rubbing the back of his head for a second before laughing. “Jeez, Fushiguro! What’s with you today?” His grin stayed intact, though you couldn’t miss the slight wince that suggested the hit hadn’t exactly been gentle.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “It’s fine! I’ve got an extra-thick skull anyway,” he added with a playful wink in your direction. You noticed Megumi seemed even more frustrated with the additional member, but he didn't comment on it. You wondered how long he'd hold out until he just left.

“Well, Megumi,” Gojo emphasized the name with a teasing lilt, his eyes flicking to you as if testing the waters. “This is…interesting. Didn’t mention you’d have company today.”

Megumi’s scowl deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s none of your business,” he shot back without hesitation. He hadn't even known you were coming. A mistake on your part obviously.

“Whoa, Fushiguro, didn’t know you were the overprotective type,” Yuji joked, though his curiosity was evident beneath the teasing tone.

Gojo leaned slightly. "She a friend or something?"

This all but confirmed your earlier suspicions. Megumi doesn't talk about you. You drew in a breath. “I’m his—” 

Megumi’s hand shot out, his grip firm but not harsh as it wrapped around your wrist. “We’re done here,” he muttered, his tone low and decisive. Without sparing a glance back, he began steering you away with purposeful steps, leaving no room for protest.

“Wait—what?” Yuji’s voice followed after you, completely baffled. But neither tried to stop him. Gojo chuckled quietly and gave a lazy wave. “See you around… whoever you are,” he called out, lighthearted, his eyes trailing you.

Why the hell was he so curious about you.

Megumi kept his grip on your wrist, practically dragging you along until the two of you reached a more private spot—a quiet little area tucked beneath an overgrowth of trees. Thick bushes surrounded the bench, adding a sense of seclusion that felt both calming and suffocating all at once. You recognized the place from earlier on your walk. It wasn’t far from the front entrance, and the realization sent a small pang through your chest. How many times would he make it obvious he didn't want you here until you'd get it? The self conscious part of you brain was screaming at you. feeling oddly shy with being here.

You stole a glance at him, catching sight of his face. His jaw, clenched, his gaze sharp and tunneled, like he was too lost in his own frustration to notice anything else. The tension in his features was unmistakable, and that tightness in your gut only grew.

When he finally let go of your wrist, you felt the cool air replace the warmth of his touch, though it didn’t ease the knot forming in your stomach. He sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly as some of the tension eased from his posture.

“What’re you doing here?” his voice, low but softer than before.

You could easily cry. Despite being the older one here, you felt more like a scolded toddler, small and out of place. But when your eyes met his, something shifted. The hard glare he’d been wearing was gone, replaced by a calmer expression, maybe even a little tired. His hands moved to his face, rubbing across his eyes as if trying to wipe away the remnants of his frustration.

You really needed to get ahold of yourself. Since when did it matter if he wanted you there? You were there to drop off something he forgot. Maybe it was just the embarrassment teens get when their overly affectionate parent comes to dote on them in front of their friends. Maybe theyd tease him about this later....

When he looked at you again, there was that particular softness in his gaze, the kind that made your chest ache. Your thoughts immediately cleared. Maybe he wasn't so upset with you...

“You embarrassed of me?” you joked weakly, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite land. You prayed the faint hurt in your tone wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Megumi’s eyes widened, caught off guard. Like he hadn't anticipated you actually being hurt by his actions. He could sense the tension in your voice, much like how you could sense his. He stared at you for what felt like forever, his mouth opening slightly as though he wanted to respond, only to close again as the words faltered. His head tilted just a fraction, his brows furrowing in thought, like he was scrambling for an excuse but coming up empty. The silence stretched between you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say—or if he even could.

You chuckled, stepping forward to pinch his cheek lightly. “Relax,” you teased, quickly shoving down the lingering sting of your own feelings as you swung the strap off your shoulder and held the bag out to him. He wasn't mad at you. “I told you—I brought your bag. How can someone as responsible as you forget something like this, hmm?”

For a moment, Megumi just stared at the bag, like he couldn’t quite believe you’d gone out of your way for something so trivial. Slowly, he reached out to take it, his fingers brushing yours in the process. The brief contact wasn’t much, but you caught the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Thanks… mom,” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy.

He eyed the second bag slung around your shoulder.

"Oh! And this is for you." He took the bag quizzically, peeking inside only for his eyes to light up. "Thought I'd at least bring your favorite." The packed dinner was a good choice. The awkward tension from earlier melted away as a warm smile spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at how cute he was, the tense atmosphere already fading away. A small lull settled between you, the kind of silence that felt comfortable rather than strained. The overgrown trees swayed gently overhead, their leaves whispered softly in the breeze, wrapping the moment in an almost serene stillness. It was starting to get cold out. Soon enough, he would be due for another birthday. Yours had already passed a few weeks back.

Without warning, Megumi stepped forward, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his chin came to rest lightly on top of your head. The embrace was firm, not overbearing, and for a moment, you froze in surprise before leaning into it. He was always one for affectionate gestures... but....

“You should head back,” he said quietly, though there was a faint reluctance in his tone that made you nearly hesitate. You didnt want to leave just yet.

You nodded, your hands brushing his arms briefly before you pulled back. “Alright,” you replied softly, offering him another small smile before turning to leave.

As you walked back toward the path, you spotted Gojo and Yuji nearby, standing a little too still to pass as innocent. You were sure they were supposed to have left already, but there they were—watching. Not that you had anything you were particularly secretive about.

But Yuji’s gaze seemed to dart to anywhere but you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, while Gojo leaned casually against a tree, the ever-present grin on his face somehow managing to look even more smug.

The second your eyes met theirs, Yuji’s face flushed bright red. He muttered something under his breath, quickly averting his gaze as though he could disappear by sheer will. Gojo, on the other hand, stood there shamelessly. All cocky and arrogant. Immediately irritating you again.

Megumi stepped out from behind you, their eyes shifting over immediately. Gojo’s grin turned absolutely wicked, his quirked brow seeming ready to tease him endlessly. Yuji’s mouth twitched, as though he was trying—and failing—not to laugh, his wide eyes flicking between the two of you. 

Megumi, however, barely acknowledged them. He strode past you without a word, but as he did, you felt the faintest brush of his hand against your back. The touch was light, almost imperceptible, but deliberate enough to send a jolt through you. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and before you could even process the moment, Gojo gave an exaggerated cough. 

By the time Megumi reached their sides, Gojo and Yuji were all over him, poking his cheeks and teasing him relentlessly. You couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever let him live down whatever they thought they’d seen. For someone as stoic as Megumi, seeing him soften must’ve been quite the sight for them.

You sighed quietly, feeling a little secondhand embarrassment for him.

The walk home was pretty silent.

It was hard to find much to do when the house was as silent as it was. Time seemed to crawl as you went through the motions of your routine, everything blurring together in the same, boring monotony.

You and Megumi exchanged texts here and there, but as always, he was evasive about certain topics. He avoided talking about his friends, that teacher, and especially his missions. No matter how many ways you tried to bring it up, he always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

But he seemed more comfortable sharing through photos—pictures of the meals he was eating, scenic views, and even the occasional selfie with a classmate or two. It seemed he was trying to include you more in his day to day life, maybe sensing your growing urge for something different. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about it.

He wasn’t supposed to be worrying about you like this—but when had Megumi ever not been thoughtful when it came to you?

He was always helping around the house, bringing home things you needed. He’d carry the heavier bags without being asked, and when he was home, he never went out much. Instead, he’d linger in your presence, watching the same TV shows you liked, or even sitting in complete silence, or even sun napping on the couch. A second shadow.

And if you were forced to admit it, he made the loneliness and monotony a lot easier to bear. His presence had a way of filling the empty spaces, making the house feel less like a silent box and more like a home.

When it came to you, Megumi seemed to have a sixth sense. He was always away at school when you were called out to your clan house, yet, without fail, he’d send you a message the second you got back, asking how you were. He always seemed to know when you were stressed or needed something—sometimes even before you realized it yourself. Megumi wasn’t just thoughtful. No, he was in tune with you in a way that felt almost uncanny.

And now that he was older… you couldn’t help but wonder. Did he still harbor that same puppy crush he had when he was younger? The thought made your head spin. Was he still seeing you in that light, or had it faded? He’d never fully confirmed it back then, never said anything outright. But he’d always been affectionate—hadn’t he?

Wasn’t he always like that? 

And yet… how would you feel about that?

No.

These weren’t the right questions to be asking. You still had a place here. You were still his stepmother. These weren’t the thoughts you should even be entertaining, not for a second. But the thought made you freeze in your tracks, the shirt you were folding suddenly feeling heavier in your hands. It was nearing his graduation—just a week away—and you didn't have the faintest idea what came after.

Would he be moving out? Would he stay home for a while to plan his next steps? Would he be doing Jujutsu work? 

And then there was the question you didn’t want to ask, the one that made your stomach twist. Would you still be allowed to stay here? Or would your clan come calling, pulling you out of the life you’d carefully built over the years? The main reason for you being here was Megumi and Toji. Forming those relationships and feeding small bits of information. But if neither of them were even going to be home....

No, surely they wouldn’t. Not after all this time. If they were going to do that, they would’ve already done it… wouldn’t they? Surely....They hadn't mentioned it before at least.

Toji had come home briefly the week before Megumi’s graduation, but it didn’t take long to learn he’d already taken on yet another mission. Despite the two of you growing closer over time, it never seemed to slow him down when it came to picking up those lengthy assignments that kept him away for days at a time.

This time was no different. He mentioned it was a high-profile case, one with the potential to drag on longer than expected. “Two weeks minimum,” and he wouldn’t be back in between.

It wasn’t anything new. Toji’s comings and goings had always been unpredictable, and you’d grown used to the empty spaces he left behind. But something about this mission left you uneasy. 

But for now, all you could do was wait.

come home

[winwintea]

my apology letter

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ heavy angst. some fluff. no happy ending this is a breakup fic you have been warned

SUMMARY ↬ Chenle always thought that love truly wins all. Your relationship with him was filled with joy and connection. But lately, cracks have begun form. Between small misunderstandings, unspoken frustrations, and the growing sense that he’s not enough for you, Chenle begins to doubt his theory. Is love enough to bridge the gaps between you or is letting go the ultimate act of love?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.0k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ i'm sorry in advance !!!! not really. suffer. happy birthday chenle. i hate (love) you so. very. very. much. title and fic based on my apology letter by kim yeon woo!

PLAYLIST ↬ my apology letter - kim yeon woo, who - lauv (feat. bts), lie with you - ten, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, the scientist - coldplay

CHENLE SITS DOWN, AND BEGINS WRITING HIS LETTER.

He’s lost track of how many times he’s sat in this exact seat. It used to be different. So different. At first it was nice. You were beautiful in every way possible. Kind, patient, and thoughtful. You always made him feel like the most important person in the world, even while surrounded by others. This table was a place of warmth, laughter, and love. Now the mood was only as tense as ever. 

He takes a deep breath, letting his thoughts consume him as he begins to write. 

I miss your laugh. I miss making you laugh. I miss that joyous echo of good times I could feel around the apartment, and I swear to god it was my favorite sound ever. I miss that. I miss us. 

He remembers how the mornings would go. You’d both sit at the table, sharing a simple warm breakfast that you or him had prepared. All that really seemed to matter was the two of you in that moment of time.  

He looked at you, the sunlight reflecting off of your face. You were always smiling at your phone, lips quirking as your fingers began typing. You placed your phone against your chest after hitting send, waiting for him to react. 

As Chenle was absentmindedly scrolling through the news, he noticed a notification pop up on his screen.

My Love: “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

Quiet, huh? You always enjoyed texting him to get his attention. Thought it was funny. He looked up to see you smiling at him with a concerned expression. Not wanting you to worry too much Chenle smiled and shook his head, but did not say anything else.

The two of you continued eating in silence. 

Chenle sets down the pen, this burden in his chest growing heavier. Where did it all go wrong with you two?

The two of you used to be inseparable. Days consisted of stolen glances, shared jokes, silly photos and videos, small moments that brought this intimacy together. Now, you barely interact with each other, barely talk to each other. His mind drifts to details of last night. 

You sat on the floor, folding the laundry in front of the TV. Your movements were slow and graceful, thoughtfully folding every article of clothing. Chenle sat on the couch behind you, staring mindlessly at the TV, playing some show he couldn’t care less about. He didn’t look at you, you didn’t look at him.

The silence was tense and deafening, yet neither of you made moves to break it.

Chenle picks up the pen again with a stronger grip.

I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how to fix it. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. But maybe I’m not cut out for that. I know I’m losing you, and it feels like I’m losing myself too.

Chenle’s mind drifts to a day where everything seemed perfect, but always something tugging at the back of his mind.

The amusement park date. Your laughter was vibrant and warm, eyes sparked with determination as you tossed beanbags, threw balls at cans, aimed darts, always determined to best him. The two of you definitely had a competitive streak, but Chenle always made the sacrifice for you. You ended up winning a small stuffed dolphin, holding it high above your head like a trophy.

Chenle mock pouted, and laughed, “Guess I’ll stick to basketball.” He pulled you into his arms, the dolphin nearly squished between you as he pecked your cheek, while the two of you broke out into fits of giggles. 

But even in the moment of happiness and joy, there was still something eating at him from inside. 

Chenle grips his pen tighter as he recalls those fleeting moments of joy, moments that now feel bittersweet. He lets the ink flow on the paper again, writing some more.

I think about how happy we’ve been, and yet there’s always this weight, this worry I can’t stop thinking about. Even in our brightest moments, something felt... off. It’s not because of you, but because of me. It's slowly destroying me.

Later that evening, the two of you had dinner at your favorite restaurant. Chenle thinks about the way your face lit up when the waiter placed your meal in front of you. He could never get over these small things that you did that make his heart feel giddy as well. 

You slipped out your phone and took a photo of the meal, sending it to him with a caption to the photo.

My Love: [Photo Attached]

My Love: "We should make this at home sometime! You’re practically a chef. 😊"

Chenle chuckled, replying out loud, “Only if you clean it up afterwards.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you dove into your meal. For a while, everything felt easy, like it used to.

But then you got home.

It started with something small. Just a simple misunderstanding about weekend plans. Chenle couldn’t even remember the exact details now, only how frustrated he felt when his words seemed to fall short. He’d tried to explain, stumbling over his thoughts, but the look on your face never changed. You remained calm, patient, nodding along as if you understood every word.

You always did that—nodded and smiled. But had you really understood him?

Chenle sets the pen down again, and stares at the words he just wrote on the page.

"You always tried to meet me where I was, even when I couldn’t meet you halfway. I see that now. And I hate that I didn’t see it sooner."

He swallows hard, glancing toward the bedroom door. The stuffed dolphin you won that day lay peacefully tucked away in the closet. It reminds you of the time when things were simpler, or maybe just felt that way.

He stares at the words, hoping they’ll somehow fix what’s broken. But words alone aren’t enough.

They never have been.

Chenle’s been so lost in his memories and thoughts that he hasn’t noticed how much time has passed. He lifts his head and sees you standing in the kitchen. You’ve been here the whole time.

Preparing a lunch for the two of you, you move quietly, chopping the vegetables and stirring a pot on the stove. He barely hears your movements, soft and careful. He wonders if you feel the tension between you two as acutely as he does.

And for that moment, he just watches you. Your posture is relaxed, your head tilted slightly as if you’re caught in your own world. You seem so at peace, and it breaks him.

Chenle wants to reach out to you. To stop this moment from becoming what he knows it has to be. He wants to take your hand, to hold on to you just a little longer. But he knows that’s selfish. This cannot wait.

He swallows hard, his throat tightening as he tears his gaze away from you. His hands clenched into fists on the table, fingers trembling slightly. This is it. 

Taking a deep breath, Chenle forces himself to speak. His voice is low, almost breaking, the words that come out of his mouth are barely audible.

“Y/N, let’s break up.”

Chenle had been distant lately, but you didn’t press him. He always had this quiet side to him, and you figured he’d come around when he was ready. You trusted him.

Lunch was extra special today. You were making tteok-bokki—Chenle’s favorite. It wasn’t a particularly hard dish, but he appreciated the effort you put in for it. You focused on the ingredients, the soft sizzle of the stove and the aroma that filled the kitchen. Smells like these made everything feel brighter.

You lost yourself in the rhythm of cooking, chopping vegetables and stirring the sauce until it thickened just right. He had taught you how to make the dish originally, cooking it to perfection until you got it just the way he liked it.

You glanced over your shoulder at him briefly. He was at the dining table, hunched over something. A notebook? His phone? You couldn’t tell. He didn’t look up.

It wasn’t like him to be so withdrawn. He’d always try—he’d send funny memes or silly videos to make you smile. Lately, though, his texts had seemed less and less. You told yourself he was just busy, and would make time as usual to make it up to you.

When the food was nearly ready, you began washing the dishes in the sink, suddenly remembering something you’d been meaning to ask. You turned around, leaning slightly on the counter, and smiled.

“Chenle,” you said, your voice soft but clear. “Take off early for work today and let’s go out to eat dinner together, alright?”

Your hands begin to move, signing something quickly as you mouthed the words out, the gestures being full of emotion to convey your thoughts and feelings. It was your way of making sure he understood. He didn’t know a lot of sign language, but he always made the effort to try and guess.

He initially looked at you with a serious face, his lips in a tight thin line. His eyes were conflicted. Why he looked so pained for some reason, you had no idea. But as soon as you started signing his lips curved into a smile once more, a familiar smile that you loved looking at all day long. 

Eventually after no reaction, Chenle seemed to process your words and nodded his head. He held his hand up in a ‘ok’ position to ensure that he had understood and got the memo. 

Pleased with his response, you turned back around and finished up your task in the kitchen. 

Chenle had asked you to prepare him lunch. You suggested his favorite. He needed this moment to himself, to let the words leave his mouth and test the weight of them in the air.

“Let’s break up,” he had whispered while your back was turned. The words had tasted bitter, like ash on his tongue, their weight heavier than he could have anticipated.

But you hadn’t heard him.

You’d been deaf since the moment he met you. He could still remember your first conversation. It was brief and awkward, with you typing out sentences on your phone and holding the screen in front of him. He’d smiled at how patient you were. A patience you still had today. From that moment, he was hooked.

Yet now, after all this time, he hated himself for how little he’d tried to understand you better.

Chenle leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The guilt felt like a heavy weight, weighing his shoulders down.

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. But it wasn’t enough. Love alone wasn’t enough to bridge the gap of happiness between the two of you.

He thought about all the times you had signed something to him, your gestures full of emotion, but he could only guess their meaning. You never scolded him for not understanding, never grew angry when he needed you to repeat yourself or resort to texting instead. You were always kind and understanding. Patient and calm. 

But you shouldn’t have to be patient. You shouldn’t have to wait for him to change. You shouldn’t have to wait this long. 

He had taken advantage of your patience, convincing himself that things would work out eventually. He would catch on quickly. Or so he thought. 

He had barely scratched the surface of learning sign language, and didn’t put in as much effort as he should’ve. 

He wasn’t enough for her. His mind flooded with these thoughts and revelations. These words were sharp and seemed to pierce his heart, filling him with immense pain.

The gap between his hearing and your not hearing had grown too large, too large to ignore. At first, he had thought together you could leap over it, that your love would be enough. But he was wrong.

You deserved someone who would dive into that gap and build a bridge, piece by piece, brick by brick. Someone who would work to understand every gesture, every look you made, every unspoken word.

He wasn’t that person. He would never be that person.

Chenle glanced at the letter on the table, the words he had written laid out before his own eyes. He wanted to say goodbye, but he couldn’t find a way to do it face to face. Not properly. Not without him breaking down. 

Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to say the words. Call him a coward. He couldn’t face you. He couldn’t even say he wanted to break up with you outright. Yet he wasn’t brave enough to stay and keep letting you down.

He heard you call his name again, your voice soft and light, the way you always spoke just for him. Your hands moved as you spoke, signing the words with ease, your face glowing after looking at him. 

And in that moment, he realized: no matter who he met in the future, he would never love anyone the way he loved you.

But that love wasn’t enough.

The apartment felt emptier than ever when you walked in one day after work. 

You’d noticed the change the moment you opened the door: the subtle shift in the air, the absence of his shoes by the entrance, the way the quiet seemed louder than usual, some space seemed emptier than you remembered. Your chest tightened as you stepped further inside looking around the living room.

That’s when you saw it.

A neatly folded envelope sat on the table, your name written on it in Chenle’s familiar handwriting. Beside it, the small dolphin you’d won at the amusement park laid out next to the letter on the table, its glossy black eyes staring back up at you.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your hands trembling as you picked up the envelope. You didn’t open it right away. Instead, you stood there, staring at the letter, trying to steady your breathing for a bit. You knew this was coming. You tried to ignore the signs, but you were correct.

When you finally sat down, it was in the same chair Chenle always used. You never sat in it, since it always seemed like his spot. The cushion still felt warm somehow, as though he had been there just moments ago. You placed the envelope on the table in front of you, staring at it for what felt like an eternity before you finally gathered enough courage to open it.

The letter was written in his careful handwriting, each word deliberate, each line heavy with emotion. As you began to read, tears blurred your vision.

My dearest Y/N,

By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be gone. I know you probably saw it coming—I’ve been distant for a while now. And I know you deserve more than this. A goodbye in words rather than on a page. But this is the only way I could say everything I need to. 

From the moment I met you, you were the brightest part of my life. You lit up every room you walked into. You taught me so much about patience, about kindness, about love.

And I failed you.

Things have been different, haven’t you noticed? I miss your laugh. I miss making you laugh. I miss that joyous echo of good times I could feel around the apartment, and I swear to god it was my favorite sound ever. I miss that. I miss us. 

I don’t know how we got here. I don’t know how to fix it. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. But maybe I’m not cut out for that. I know I’m losing you, and it feels like I’m losing myself too.

I’ve tried to convince myself that our love would be enough to bridge the gap between us, that I could make up for my shortcomings. But the truth is, I haven’t. I’ve barely tried to learn about you and your world. You’ve carried so much of the burden, of the weight of our relationship, and I just let you.

You deserve someone who won’t let you do that. Someone who will learn every gesture, every sign there is in the vocabulary of sign language, who will work tirelessly to meet you where you are.

That someone isn’t me.

I hate myself for not being enough for you. I hate that I couldn’t give you what you deserve. And I hate that my love for you isn’t enough to fix this.

You always tried to meet me where I was, even when I couldn’t meet you halfway. I see that now. And I hate that I didn’t see it sooner.

I think about how happy we’ve been, and yet there’s always this weight, this worry I can’t stop thinking about. Even in our brightest moments, something felt... off. It’s not because of you, but because of me. It's slowly destroying me.

I hope that someday, you find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved. Someone who will put in the effort I didn’t, someone who will never let you feel alone.

I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N. I just hope that letting you go gives you the chance to find the happiness I couldn’t give you.

I’m so sorry.

- Chenle

Your hands trembled, shaking the letter slightly, your tears dripping onto the paper and smudging the ink. You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle the sobs threatening to escape, but it was no use.

The dolphin on the table stared back at you as if it held all the memories you’d shared—the laughter, the quiet moments, the love.

You folded the letter carefully, placing it back in the envelope as your tears continued to fall. Sitting there in the silence, you felt the weight of his absence settle around you.

And yet, even through the pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame him.

Because you understood. And that hurt the most.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung @peterm4rker @sleepyvic @chenlesfavorite (u too pookie)

[kisscara]

great save! [volleyball player!scaramouche x gn!volleyball player!reader] ⎯⎯ modern au, fluff

wherein a boy who's obsessed with volleyball and nothing else gets his world flipped upside down when he witnesses an amazing libero... aka you.

a/n: i don't expect this to get much recognition BUT I LOVE WRITING // i took inspo from tobio kageyama for scara's personality here

one... two... three...

scaramouche's deep indigo irises are fixated on the volleyball. he continues to smack it onto the dirt of the ground, just outside of a high school gym. he's prepping himself for his serve. he wants to perfect it.

each time the ball hits the ground, the little clumps of dirt flatten.

they're being pushed down by the rough impact. smack, over and over.

scaramouche stops slamming the ball, leaving it in his grip. just how he likes treating his opponents. to keep on pushing, until they're exhausted. until they realize, they can't win against him and his team. how could they?

scaramouche has always been a bit of a sadist when it comes to volleyball.

"oh, scara," kazuha's gentle voice calls out with a smile as he approaches the indigo haired boy. scaramouche turns slightly, sparing his friend a side eye, unamused. "you're late," he mutters.

the white, single red streak haired boy chuckles at his friend's grumpiness. kazuha's hands are deep into his hoodie pockets. "aren't you cold?" he asks, his words reduced to fog in the crispiness of the early winter air. scaramouche just responds with a grunt, looking back to his volleyball.

"i didn't know another school was using the gym today," scaramouche pipes up, nodding his head towards the gym. kazuha looks to the closed doors. "oh, really?" he murmurs while walking up to the doors. scaramouche follows, appearing uninterested as he tucks his volleyball beneath his arm of his hoodie.

when kazuha opens the door, the warmth of the gymnasium envelops them. they walk inside, the sounds of volleyballs hitting the polished floors and the squeaking of shoes filling their ears. the doors close behind themselves, shutting out the brisk wind.

they walk up the spectator stands and find empty seats located in the third row. scaramouche sits down, placing his volleyball on the seat by them. he then shoves his hands into his pockets and tsks, looking over the players.

kazuha laughs a bit, sensing his friend's annoyance. "you always want to play, don't you?" scaramouche clicks his tongue, slumping in his seat. kazuha suggests, "watching other players is a good experience too. maybe you can pick something up."

scaramouche, visibly offended, gawks at kazuha's words as he stares at the boy in straight up disbelief. "gross? ew, no?" he replies, a bit too quick, sitting up straight. "i don't need no spectating! i'm not a wannabe," scaramouche grunts.

before he can say any more, kazuha points and says, "look, the game's starting!"

scaramouche, though uncaring, looks over the gym, an unpleasant expression plastered on his face. the ball is in the air, far off from the court.

"it's bound to land in the tables over there," kazuha points out with a nervous chuckle. scaramouche hums quietly. "it's too bad both schools are tied at set point," he brings up, stretching his neck by tilting his head side to side. "we all know who's going to win-"

"what a save!" the commentator announces.

scaramouche blinks.

how did the libero get over there so fast?

you jumped up and bounced the ball upwards to course it back to your team and as a result, landing on the tables and knocking a few down.

"damn it!" you whine. you quickly untangle yourself from the mess, rushing to save the ball yet again when the other team manages to block it. you dive for it, your arm reaching out as your fist single handedly saves the ball once more. two saves across the court, under two minutes.

scaramouche didn't notice it, but he was on the edge of his seat. thanks to your save, the setter, your teammate, was able to set the ball for the outside hitter, who lands a successful point.

"and that's set point!"

you slump onto the floor, whining quietly, but relieved. the setter, keqing, comments with a laugh, "we won, and you're over here whining." you stand up, your mood flipping instantly as you say cheerily, "i know! this means we can get cake to eat, right?"

out of nowhere, hu tao collapses at your back, putting all of her weight onto you as she clings to your body. "nice job, libero!" she giggles, teasing you with a big grin. nilou puts her waterbottle down and breathes out with a comforted sigh, "we barely won..." she adds sweetly, "we wouldn't have if not for (name)."

after all of the congratulations, you finally managed to get away from everyone to get some water. you're skipping to the water fountain down the hall connected to the gym. however, as you round the corner, you bump into a guy with a bowlcut.

"woops, sorry," you say apologetically, looking at scaramouche as you rub your forehead where you collided with him.

scaramouche looks at you, and then at your jersey. a big white number four. the outstanding libero that caught his eye. "do you think you're good?" he interrogates, straightforward and blunt.

you perk up at his oddly spoken words. you slightly bristle and say with a worried tone, "i didn't mean to bump into you!-" scaramouche snaps, "no, idiot. at volleyball."

you blink a few times in realization as you register his actual question. you then nod your head, a bit of a pout atop your lips. "no, duh. why are you asking?"

a bit sassy. you don't fear his offstandish personality, do you?

scaramouche then smiles. you get scared at this. "damn, does this guy have split personalities," you ponder to yourself, awkwardly backing up by one step. he then raises a brow as he notices you subtly shuffling away.

"hold on, i'm not done!" he says, tugging you back by your jersey sleeve. your body lands right up against him, your eyes looking into his. scaramouche's grip slightly falters on your sleeve. he chuckles. "let's practice together sometime."

you're completely frozen, your cheeks feeling hot from the proximity between you two. scaramouche lets go of you. "what's your name, number four?" he asks, looking at you like he didn't just have you at a good kissing distance.

you clear your throat and say, "(name)... you?" still staring at him with that same look of, 'i'm not letting my guard down.'

he hums, "scaramouche. well, (name)," he admits begrudgingly, "you are an amazing libero." a tinge of surprise hits you. he doesn't seem like the type of guy to compliment someone so outwardly.

"but you annoy me."

yup, there it is. you huff a little before looking back at him with a sweet smile. "you annoy me too." scaramouche inches closer, muttering with a deadpan expression, "i'll crush you in volleyball." you look at him, not letting down as you speak with that same cheeriness, "you wish."

a worthy oppnent with that same edge of resilience.

he's fallen in love already.

scaramouche slips a small paper in your palm. "my number," he says, before adding, "ill be at this gym every day."

"every day?" you repeat, a bit surprised by his previous statement as he starts walking away. scaramouche looks back at you, smirking, "what, don't tell me you can't do that much?" you pause before saying with a grumble, "of course i can."

"then i'll see you there."

© kisscara

[absolutelynotsanebaby]

I was talking to my mutual about Cole when I had a surge of Thoughts so per usual you all have to hear them now. I was considering a couple things, namely his development and place as the "strong guy" on the team and his masculinity (and how it presents in the show vs in fanon).

Cole's pretty often typecast as the gruff strong guy in a lot of fan-media (from fanfics to fanart etc) which isn't wrong because he was like that, especially within the early seasons. The way he spoke, the way he acted, his place as a sort of leading force. In season three you even see him in that stupid lumberjack fit (said affectionately), it's all very traditionally masculine. Which fits his whole Strong and Big guy of the team role (the five man band archetypes etc etc). However, it's interesting to say because at his core, he's very emotional and very driven by a strong sense of internal compassion (with a canonical affinity to children). Which obviously none of that is opposed to masculinity but these traits begin to show more as the gruffness pulls back. The first real example of that I think is in ToE with his fight with Jay. I don't read him as being invested in their fighting the same way Jay was. Jay was fueled by insecurity and a very strong sense of jealousy and possessiveness. Cole? I think he was just reacting to Jay's aggression, which didn't put Nya in a better position but it is a difference. 

So when their match rolls around, he's the first one to realize what they're doing is stupid and give in. He reaches out emotionally to Jay. However, Jays still is a friend so that is easy to write off as a symptom of friendship. And then following ToE we have possession and DOTD which I think are where he really begins to develop, and have the strongest examples of what I'm getting at. I'm going out on a limb and saying that I really see his prior gruffness as a sort of armor, to be good enough for the team (insert that one Wu note of him staying up late before missions) and also there his whole rebellious streak against his father trying to force him to be someone he's not. (Note: I wouldn't be surprised if how Lou raised him really had a impact on all this) Then, we get to Possession and both his self worth and self image are shook badly by literally dying. He outright says he's not a ninja anymore, which I think he based a lot of who he was on (<- which is why struggling with it hit so hard).

Finally DOTD comes up and I think we see the strongest example of where his compassion really become a core trait. It's his fight with Yang. He had no reason to reach out to him, to be honest he had the right not to, but he did and it worked! He didn't get out of DOTD in the end with brute force, he got out of it with emotional support (his team showing up), a stubborn adherence to his moral code, and reaching out to Yang with empathy. From that point on, I think he's softer and more prone to being emotional, it's like there was a very real shift. To circle back to Jay, because I think he makes for a good comparison, he does not develop like that post ToE. Actually, the issues carying from s3 (though, they do exist prior just not as starkly) all the way to Skybound where it gets violently (literally) addressed. Jay fans can probably say it better than me but the season is about his insecurity and treatment of Nya and there's a reason both Nadakhan and Cliff are like that (read: they're parallels). It's just interesting because both Cole and Jay have issues with self worth and image but they present and develop very differently. 

There's also the fanon aspect with those two that's really funny. I think everyone's aware of the infamous fanon-bruise, the 2010s-yaoification. Uwu Jay, Big Strong Man Cole, and how weirdly racist it is. It's just funny to note because the issues projected onto Cole in fanon are ones Jay has, like, in the show. Cole's the more emotional and compassionate one of the two, but because of the strong guy role, it gets flipped around in fanon. Going by the 'traditional' (read: toxic) masculine standards, in terms of personality and character, I think Jay more closely aligns. It reminds me of this post I saw once, it was of Hunted where Jay was making the plane (?) and Cole was with baby Wu. It called Jay the 'mom' and Cole the 'dad' which I find kind of funny because if you look at it through that hetero-normative lense, it really should be the other way around. Cole's the one caring for the baby pretty consistently, Jay's the one making a machine and Working. Did Jay just get called the 'mom' there because people think of him as smaller and weaker and therefore more feminine? Did Cole get called the dad just because he's strong and considered bigger? It's interesting. Fanon does Cole really dirty sometimes.

To get back on topic of Cole's narrative development, then we get to MOTM (like a bajillion years later which no I'm not complaining except I am). Cole's characterization in MOTM is so fucking good. MOTM does a fantastic job at tying together several of his strings. It ties in Lilly, his self esteem, his staunch morality, affinity towards leadership, and compassion into one, pretty bow. MOTM puts Cole back into a leading role, and it gives him several groups to reach out to (Vania, the munce and geckle, the uppily). It draws back the insecurity present in him, letting it show again to be addressed. It even ties in his relationship to Wu in a really lovely way to me. MOTM is the season where Cole finds who he is, his identity and his place as his mothers son.

Speaking of that, I have a very strong love for male characters who exemplify who their mothers were and what they taught them. The scenes with Lilly really put his entire character into a different perspective. At the start he was this tough kid fresh off grief and pressurized so strongly by his dad and himself and he goes through loops and hurdles of strength and identity and by the end he finds himself exactly where he needs to be. Where he's the strongest and it's in his mothers footsteps, as someone both emotional and strong. It's a really lovely character arc to take him on, and though I haven't watched DR, I've heard they continue that on. 

Anyways, consider it positive masculinity, consider it anything else. I just had a lot of thoughts to share and hope I don't sound too 'reading-too-deep' about it. Bye bye Kar ramble over.

[weird-is-life]

I saw you’re taking Aaron requests… I would love if you write where Aaron and reader were in love in college but obviously life happened and they split apart and they meet up again all these years later and how you think their reuinion would go 🥹 ty

Hii, lovely🥰 ty for this cute request....hope you like it!! Warnings: fluff, mom!reader, use of y/n, mentions of school, (1.1k)

Aaron is running late. Nothing unusual with how busy he gets with the work, but it still bothers him. It's the parent-teacher conference, and he really didn't want to be late. Especially when he knows that Jack's teacher put him as the last parent of the day (knowing how long he works from previous experiences).

There is only one car in the school parking lot when Aaron finally arrives.

He basically sprints from his car to Jack's classroom, even though he called the teacher he would be late. Aaron knocks on the door, and comes in.

"Good evening," Aaron greets the teacher warmly, extending his right hand to her. " I'm sorry for being late. Thank you for waiting for me."

"It's no problem, Mr. Hotchner, " she says, "you aren't the only one late today." She adds with an amused smile.

"Oh, really? " Aaron's always the last one here, so he is a bit surprised to hear that.

"Yes, she should be here soon, too...-" the teacher replies, just as there's another knock on the door.

"Would it be a problem for you, Mr. Hotchner if I combined you two last parents of the day together?" the teacher asks. She, as expected, wants to go home already, too.

Aaron understands that more than anybody, " of course not. I don't mind at all." And why should he mind? Jack's always more than good in school, great grades and well-behaved. So he's not afraid for the other parent to hear that. He wouldn't be afraid even if Jack wasn't doing the best in school either.

"Thank you so much," the teacher says before she gets up, and opens the door.

The wind gets knocked out of Aaron.

It's you.

Fuck, it's really you.

And gosh. You look even more beautiful then he could remember.

You were just two young fools in college the last time he saw you. And now....And now Aaron can't believe his eyes. He should have known you would never grow out of your beauty.

"Aaron? Aaron Hotchner? Oh my god, is it really you?" You can't seem to believe the sight in front of you either.

Your eyes are wide open in shock, amd a small smile appears on your lips. He looks exactly as you thought he would.

Still so handsome, and the few streaks of white hair making him look it even more. And don't even get me started on the suit he wears.

"Yeah, it's me," he chuckles. Aaron stands up, and out of the routine he extends his hand out to you.

You completely ignore it (along with the etiquette of what's an appropriate greeting after seeing somebody after a long, long time), and embrace Aaron.

Aaron heart skips a beat, but he embraces you back. Maybe just a tiny bit less tightly than you.

The teacher watches this whole commotion in pure shock as she goes to sit down in her chair.

The click of her heels against the floor is the thing that brings you out of your delighted shock, and you pull away with a light blush on your face.

"I take it you two know each other?" the teacher jokes, and you and Aaron take the seats opposite her.

"Yes," you both say at the same time.

"Uh, college..." you also add. The teacher just politely nods, and starts talking about Jack and your son.

Oh god. You have a son, too! Aaron haven't even realised that you were there for the same reason as him since he's laid his eyes on you. It's all like a fever dream.

The counseling finally comes to an end, and Aaron is more than eager to get out of the class just to catch up with you for a bit.

As soon as you two exit the school, and head into the parking lot you are looking at each other.

"Oh my gosh, how long has it been, Aaron?" you question with a smile, and you look him over a few more times.

"More then 20 years," Aaron tells you with a same smile as yours. His eyes all over you, too.

"Oh, wow. We are getting old huh?" You chuckle. Aaron laughs a belly deep laugh.

Surprisingly, it's so good to hear that you both have the same laughs as you did in college. It stirs something in both of your chests.

"I am," Aaron says, "but you are definitely not." His compliment catches you off guard, yours cheeks heating up for whatever reason like some school girl's.

You smile sheepishly at him," you don't look too bad yourself."

Aaron only chuckles at your words. "So what are you doing here?" He asks, suddenly more serious and so much more curious. "I thought you lived across the world as a big lawyer...?"

You nod with an amused but a bit sad smile, " yes, but you know, life happened, and I got a pretty great offer for a position here so I just took it, and moved here a few weeks after that...."

"And I was actually wondering if you still lived here-" you get interrupted mid sentence by your phone ringing.

"I'm sorry," you say, and pick up the phone. It's clear that it's the nanny calling you, and Aaron knows you have to hurry home before you even hang up the phone.

With your phone in your pocket you tell Aaron with a regretful expression," I'm sorry, Aaron. I have to run home, the nanny can't stay much longer."

"No, it's totally okay. I should hurry home to Jack, too."

"I wish we could talk longer, Aaron, and catch up on things. Would you- Would you like to go for a coffee someday soon?" You hesitantly ask, and Aaron just thinks how there's no reason for you to be unsure of his answer, when he would always say yes.

"It's like you're reading my mind," Aaron smiles sincerely at you," I wanted to ask you the same thing. Here," he swiftly scribbles his personal number on his business card, and hands it to you.

"Call me?"

"Or you call me," you basically do the same thing with your personal number on your business card, and you hand it to him.

"I will," he promises, and you know he's honest with his intentions to do just that. You could always count on is words, his promises.

"Great, I'll see you soon then. Goodbye Aaron Hotchner." You say your goodbye. You want to get in your car as quickly as you can just to calm your racing heart.

"Goodbye, y/n." Aaron says softly, his eyes following your figure until you get in your car.

He even waits for you to drive off first just to make sure he didn't just imagine this whole thing.

And he is more than relieved to know he didn't.

And lets just say that Jack wonders why his dad keeps smiling so weirdly once Aaron finally gets home.

[dipperpepper77]

The Good Timeline

Dipper Delusions

Tags: FLUFF. Another lifetime AU.

Sylus: The cigarette that perched on his lips was roughly taken away. He already knew who it was, your scent lodged in his bones. "Dear? I said I'd quit after this case..." It only earned him a peck on the lips- "and... your spouse said now." You showed him the sparkling ring on your finger. The usual banter leaving smile lines on your faces. The promise of showing how great of a life you two had in the future when you're old and gray.

Sylus worked as a detective in the Red light district. Meeting his beautiful spouse on a particularly rough day. He went over files as Luke and Kieran called from University. Sylus made it a point to send the twins to pursue education this time around. "Yeah... I can see the notes you're writing. Luke... didn't I say to work on your penmanship? Kieran isn't absolved from this too. You're assignment was late. I spoke to your professor." He felt a soft tap. Seeing your eyes looking down on him, lips pursed to ask a question. "I have no interest in solicitation." He reaches for his wallet. "Solicitation? I... you're hiring for an assistant position..." His face went red. "Oh... yeah. I am". The rest was history.

Your fingers scooped some gel. Applying it evenly in thin coats to slick his hair back a bit. Small kisses landed to the back of his neck earning you a hoarse laugh. "My dear assistant is being unprofessional." You rolled your eyes, "Your 'assistant' is the reason you crack as many cases as you do, dear...". He could only laugh. "Noted. My beautiful spouse has a tude this morning. How do we fix it?" A kiss. Two kisses. His tongue dragged on your bottom lip, only to hear the loudest CAW known to man. Mephisto reminding you both that he was in the room. "Right... right. Sorry Mephie." Man... he loved this lifetime.

Rafayel: A paintbrush hurled its way towards Rafayel's head. Who else would he call other than his spouse? The only problem is... are you busy with court? "Love? Are you busy?" You spoke quietly. The halls of the court making your voice echo. "Not really. The judge isn't here but I'm ready to go. What's wrong?" He sighed. "My beautiful and hardworking lawyer. AND WHAT'S WRONG?! A DAMN KID THREW A PAINTBRUSH AT ME". You tried... SO hard to not laugh. Your poor husband isn't having a great first day as a elementary school art teacher.

You came home earlier than him. Preparing dinner, stirring the noodles occasionally when the door opened. There he stood- looking like the loser of a paintball competition. Blue streaks on his cheek, pink on his arm, yellow on his leg, a muddy combination of colors on his hair. He refused to shower alone that afternoon. Your hands threading his strands trying to get the dried paint out. "What would I do without you?" You smiled. Kissing his lips gently. "Crash and burn".

You're about to sleep. His arms wrapped around your waist- as his phone lights up. You hear Grayson, the school principal, yelling. "Rafayel... WHERE DID YOU LEAVE THE PAINTBRUSHES?" You looked at Rafayel. "Raf... you did NOT." His face was beet red. "... I threw them in the lake." Thank goodness that his spouse was a lawyer. This seemed to be a pickle only YOU could get him out of. Your price? He had to clean and cook for the entire month. Which he did gladly. Coming home to see him in a little apron to show off he's committed to this bit.

Xavier: Office romance is REALLY hard to hide. Especially when your husband is so damn clingy. You turned in your cubicle, holding to the arms of your chair to crack your back. "That's not good... I'll crack your back for you at home." He said it SO loud. "Xavier... I'll write you up with HR." It was a tease, more of a 'hey! shut up.' He looked at you with a blank expression. "HR? For cracking my spouse’s back?" Great. Now everyone was buzzing with life. The new thing was your marriage to Xavier.

You both ate in his car- your fingers unwrapping the foil of your burrito. "You did that on purpose didn't you?" He smirked. You feel the disturbance to your spousal instincts. Closing your eyes- you put the pointer and middle finger of both hands to your temple. "If I turn... and you're laughing- I'll tickle you." You opened your eyes to see him opening the driver's side door to run. Thats how you both came to the office with mud stained clothing. Spitting out grass and leaves.

Xavier's favorite threat? "I'm going to cook tonight". That made your face go sheet white. But, you got home a bit after Xavier to see the table prepared with so much food that ACTUALLY looked edible. You sent messages to your loved ones saying your 'I love you's' incase you didn't make it out after dinner. You took a cautious bite... it was REALLY good. After you felt like a stuffed turkey- you went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Seeing empty bags of multiple take out places... right. Of course, you should've known. Your eye twitched. Looking back to see Xavier making a run for it.

Zayne: You did medical research. But, want to know you most reoccurring resource? Your husband. So it's always known... 4pm is when you'll waddle into the hospital. You came a little after 4:30 this day, however. Feeling hands twirl you around to make you face him. "You're late, my brain." You could only smile. "Traffic got really hectic, my hands." The nickname came from an interviewer. Saying that Zayne was the hands on spouse while you were the brain. Your research proposing many alternatives to medicine or explaining the true severity to different diagnosis’.

Your feet laid on Zayne's lap as he rubbed your heels. "I feel like I'm going through a loop. There is proof. I triple checked my statistics, the validity to my claims... hell! I even did a trial myself with my money!." He offered you a listening ear. "So, the problem is that the board isn't listening?" The next week you found the board looking... afraid of you. Signing off on documents to let you propose and do actual research on your claim. You knew in your gut who made it happen... Zayne. He believed in you more than anyone in the world.

At home he held you close to his chest in the bath. "I know what you did. Thank you." You looked up at him, laying your chin on his hard chest. He smiled at you. His eyes looking at you like you were a rare jewel. "Not a problem... not for my brain." The chuckle that left your lips made his heart jumpstart all over again. Your wet hand intertwined in his. "In this life... let's do this everyday." He nods. Kissing the top of your head. "Everyday... I can do that."

Caleb: He married his first love. His childhood best friend. He wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. You sat between his legs as he combed out your hair, making it neat and presentable for work. "After we land let's go to the breakfast place we saw in Paris?" You nodded gently. Eyes closed in bliss as he took his time. Landing occasional kisses behind your ear. "Lovely... beautiful... all the adjectives to say you look like a dream this morning." You scrunched your nose a bit. "You big sap."

You entered the cockpit to ask him if there would be any delays, per the request of a traveler. He looked up when he saw you. Cue the cheesy husband he was. "Mayday! Mayday! A smoking hottie walking in the cockpit. Evacuate immediately!" You rolled your eyes. "Delays? Traveler is insistent on getting to Paris as quickly as the plane allows us." He shook his head gently. "That information is classified. If only my spouse... gives me five minutes. Then I'll tell you." So there you were. Sat on his lap as he pointed to the different areas of the earth to tell you where was were. He placed a kiss on your lips after five minutes. "No delays. Just a husband wanting to land quickly to take his spouse to tourist spots."

When you got to the hotel in Paris he was all over you. Oiling your scalp like always as he gathered everything you needed for a spa day. Which led to you giving him a well deserved massage for being the worlds best husband. You kissed his cheek. "Remember when we were kids and you peed your pants on a big ride?" Oh that does it... he rolled over. Pinning you to the bed as he tickled you. "You said you'd stop teasing me about that!" You laughed hysterically. "Mercy! Mercy! The oil! Baby!!"

Dip speaks: Thanks for reading! But, next might be ANGST. I'm going to get ya. 🚬 🐺

[chaeyoei]

Hello :3 ,I had an idea while staying up late (it's 3am) and I was remembering school and so on, so I'm curious if you could write about HSR characters in school (as usual I want Blade and Aventurine;) and other characters if they're male or female (Kafka pls..) And how they act with the reader

All in all, have a good day/night (Any time.)

👀 we'll settle some things down then. Gender Neutral. These are personal opinions and my creative juices aren't flowing well.

Blade

Blade borderlines between Class delinquent and Bunker.

Blade was an A grade student but something happened and he lost all motivation and became who is he now.

You can expect school bully traits from him. He and his group are always in detention. It's become a daily basis.

His interaction with you would really just be him not acknowledging you or if you're close to him, he'll share his lunch with you.

Sliver Wolf

Sliver Wolf is the Kid who's going to be developing obbies in Roblox and just be a champion in digital games.

She's going to bunk classes and just grafiti the school wall.

If you ever see the username ChampionSliverWolf_0 in your game, just know that you're losing your one game streak.

She'd call you loser if you're really bad at games (me), and if you make for a good opponents, just expect from her to come up to you and go "Game night at 5 pal" And then leave.

Kafka

Makima Charm with Monkia's manipulation.

You know this woman is going to make you question your sexuality. She just has that charm. The one girl who's locker would be filled with love letters and roses.

If you ask anyone what they think she'd be in the future, 99 out of 100, you're going to hear model.

I think that her and Blade would be friends which nobody expected to happen but she would give her notes to Blade and in return Blade would protect her from the creeps. (No ship.)

Kafka would either be that one girl you can ask on how to charm your crush and she'll give you tips for some credits ofc.

Firefly

That one silent and shy girl that can kick ass and give you nasty looks if you bully her or her friends.

She's a goodey two shoes but she'd break rules for her friends.

I'd like to think she has a condition that limits her to have a few friends.

But I think she and Silver Wolf would get along pretty well. Silver Wolf would host a slumber party and invite Firefly, they play Mario kart and monopoly, munch on Cheetos and fall asleep.

Firefly, if you're a good friend would remain lighthearted and shy infront of you but boy if anyone ever bullies you, she's going to kick some ass.

Aventurine

That one kid who already has a business running. Need a pen? That'd be 10 credits, a new notebook? 25 credits. Gum? 5 credits.

He's really popular too. Heck he's somehow friends with the topper Ratio.

i think he'd be a shameless flirt. He'd have those right lines and rizz you up like it's nobody's business.

Herta

The Academic weapon. Doesn't even attend the class, shows up in the finals and scores the best with full marks and nobody knows who she even is.

honestly, nothing. She's not even attending. You either don't know her or do.

Robin

The popular girl who'd help you do your make up and is just nice. There's a chance that my Seele can crit more than the chance of anyone disliking her on planet Earth.

The most active and the lead of the choir.

She'd help you in everything, whether it'd be studies or getting you into a group.

Drabble and no long paragraph because my creative spirits have betrayed me like Dan Heng IL not coming home after I spent everything on him.