#man... being grabbed from another universe having no idea what's going on... that could be them to me

[tunastime]

what if #6 for the spotify ask game?

hi em! number 6 is quite fun in my opinion :3

so because of one very specific submas animatic, I could not get Ingo Pokemon Arceus/Pokemon B/W out of my head. so I don't think you go here but I could not stop myself <3 I hope you enjoy anyway! (1063 words)

Ingo stretches his legs as he sits in the grass. Akari is perched on her heels beside him, staring off into the distance, squinting against the sun. Ingo runs his hand through the fescue sticking up beside him—he’s tired, warm from sitting in the sun, fighting sleep with every ounce of his body. He hadn’t been getting a lot of that lately, dealing with the Sneasel kits. From her place beside him, Akari hums, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Anything?” Ingo asks. Akari hums again, sounding frustrated.

“Nothing yet,” she says. “We’ll know it as soon as we see it.”

“And what exactly is it?” Ingo asks, more out of curiosity than anything else.

`“It,” Akari emphasizes, trying a sigh to keep the budding disappointment out of her voice. “Is a time dilation. It looks like someone took a huge dome and smacked it over a big piece of the landscape.”

Ingo hums, mouth twisting to the side as his eyes flick tiredly over the landscape. Like… like…

There’s a shimmer, meters off in the distance. Like a mirage, dancing over a wide patch of grass, disrupting a group of sleeping caterpie. Ingo watches them worm away.

“Like that?” he asks. Akari blinks, confused, her eyes following his gesture out into the field. There’s a brief pause, where the air seems to still around them, not by nature of the wind stopping, but as if time itself had begun to bend. Akari takes in a sharp, short breath.

“Yes,” she gasps. Then she grabs Ingo’s wrist, and tugs.

It takes a moment, far longer than Akari yanking him forward, for Ingo to get his feet properly under him. He stumbles down the hill, towed by the child in front of him. This sudden burst of energy seems to travel through them like a rogue static shock, bouncing up his held arm and through his chest, giving him enough startle forward, matching Akari’s pace before she can latch onto him again.

He balances himself as they reach the bottom of the hill, straightening his hat and coat as they wade through the ankle-deep grass. Ingo’s frown only deepens in concern as they continue toward the mirage of light in front of them, still a distance off despite the gap Akari is trying to rapidly close. He feels the air catch in his lungs as he tries his best to keep up.

“What is a time dilation, Akari?”

She throws her voice back at him, trying to catch her breath.

“It’s like—time changes in this one area, and pokemon like you’ve never seen flock to it. Like they were pulled out of some other place. Just like—”

Just like us.

Ingo stumbles, hand clasping Akari’s shoulder as he rightens. 

“Right,” he murmurs. 

Up close, the distortion of the ground around the purple-white swirls of air seems to come in and out of focus. He can’t see past the field’s reflective surface, but the air feels heavy, like liquid, like water, when he tries to press his hand through. Next to him, Akari takes his hand.

“I thought, maybe…” she starts, looking at him. Ingo swallows. “But maybe it’s a stupid idea.”

“You think it might jog my memory, right?”

Akari blinks, stammering:

“Or, maybe, like, maybe, at least, maybe fill in some gaps! Not… not necessarily fix anything. Just maybe make something… clearer. Like stilling the water, y’know?”

Ingo sighs, smiling ever so. It’s honestly not a bad idea.

As he presses through the glassy surface, Akari at his hip, it gives to a churning sensation through his stomach and a lightheadedness in his head. He stumbles as they righten on solid, hazy ground. 

The air around them feels much thicker than it is. Akari was right—the field ahead of them is full of pokemon from outside of Hisui—shapes Ingo barely recognizes, and some that aren’t familiar at all. The ground is littered in shards of pottery, or glass, all smooth and colorful as they crouch behind a sizeable rock outcrop. Ingo feels… mostly himself, as of current, but there’s something on the edge of his mind that tugs, that he can’t quite place. He frowns against it, and Akari gives his shoulder a nudge.

“Anything?” she asks. He hums quietly.

“I don’t know.”

She hums back.

“Okay—keep chasing that feeling,” she says, straightening. She peers around the side of the rock, eyeing the field ahead of her. Ingo blinks, startled all at once by Akari’s sudden movement.

“Wait—”

Before he can grab onto Akari’s sleeve, she bolts from beside him, and, at the same time, Ingo feels a sudden, violent wave of nausea pass over him. The world swims hazy grey, like the stone behind him, except the stone is gone, and the floor is solid under his back instead, and the floor is floor, not soft field grass. And light is bright, but not sun-bright, and certainly not the purpled fuzz of daylight through the dilation. Fluorescent bright. He tries to stand, but his strength escapes him, pain finding purchase at the base of his skull. There’s a voice calling out to him, far from his reach, far from the lungs that try unsuccessfully to breathe air and call back out. He tries anyway, even as the memory of a place he should know blurs at the edges.

Maybe he’s not lying down on the floor. Maybe he’s moving. Maybe he’s rocking, synced in time with the motion of the floor under him. Maybe he’s upright, sitting, standing, but the world around him looks like it’s through foggy glass. Like a dream he can’t quite hold onto properly, like an event misremembered. He tries to grab at the semblance of anything, of the memory he’s being forced to recollect, and it tastes so familiar. But it’s so far away.

He can’t remember any of the faces he’s trying to see, even this close. Even the one he’s supposed to remember. The one he knows is like his own.

Ingo forces his legs under him, even as the world bends. The edges of memory become the concrete sensations of rock and grass and the sound of Akari’s delight. And the violent spin of Ingo’s head as he stands upright.

The mirage flickers around him and through him as he stumbles backward out of the dome. As his feet hit the solid, familiar earth of the field behind them, Ingo collapses.

(send me a number between 1-100 and I'll try to write you a fic!)

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.

word count. 4.7k-ish

note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.

“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.

and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.

you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”

a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.

a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.

“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.

that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”

satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.

“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.

you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.

satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .

“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.

maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;

“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.

the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”

your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.

“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.

you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.

satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”

a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.

he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.

“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.

you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.

resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.

“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.

. . .

you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.

you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.

“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.

“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.

he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”

you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.

his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.

“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.

you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.

you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.

turns out you did just that.

your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.

satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.

“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”

you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.

despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.

you are adorable when you sulk.

“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”

blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.

his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.

your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.

“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.

he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”

you nod in response and give him your best puppy eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.

the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.

satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.

you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”

maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.

you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.

“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.

then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.

his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.

you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.

“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.

it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”

your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.

satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.

his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.

“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.

he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”

you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.

your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.

“i want you,” there it goes.

you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.

“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”

if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”

the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.

he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.

“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.

he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”

satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.

you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.

satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.

his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.

“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.

after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.

your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.

“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”

you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.

his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.

one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.

“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.

your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.

you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.

that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.

his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.

“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."

you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.

your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.

“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.

your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”

satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.

“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”

the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.

“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.

your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.

spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.

satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.

“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.

his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.

“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.

your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,

“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.

your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”

satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.

you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.

“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.

“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.

you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.

you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;

“happy birthday, my love.”

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[kaleldobrev]

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

[geralallfandoms]

Hii I’m not sure if your still taking requests but if you are could you write a mark sloan x reader which involves him protecting reader from something idk is that makes sense 🫶

Hiii! Yes ofc! Hope you like it!! 🫂✨🧚

Requests are open!!

[An unlucky day]

Being a doctor has never been easy. Not only because of everything that had to be studied, the long hours of work, the mistreatment of superiors, or the poor treatment of patients...for you, the most difficult and annoying thing about all of this were the drugged or drunk patients. Most of them did not know where they were or they forgot it all the time, they did not know why they had arrived at the hospital or they deeply denied having consumed anything although their studies will confirm it.They blamed the perfumes, the chocolates that their grandmothers had given them and they didn't know they had alcohol in them, or they tried to make excuses like birthdays, weddings, New Year's Eve or Christmas.

Your 42-hour shift was about to end, there were only 4 hours left and you could return to your comfortable bed. But of course those hours would not be peaceful. It was as if the universe knew you were about to leave, that it decided to send you a bunch of patients together.

"Car crash. Two cars involved. One of the drivers was under drugs. You two, come with me." Bailey said, obviously pointing at you and another resident.

You tried not to snort too hard, you knew that if Bailey noticed, every time a case like this came up, she would call you just because she knows it bothered you.

The ambulance arrived at the same time you finished putting on your gloves. The doors opened quickly and the nurses took out a man in his 50s, unconscious, with a wound on his arm and a couple of bruises and cuts on his face. Bailey, seeing that the man was not in life-or-death conditions, pointed a finger at you, indicating that the patient was yours.

The nurses helped you take him to a more private room, just as another nurse entered.

"Thank you very much, I can so ir alone from here. Could you call Dr. Sloan? His face has a couple of bruises that I want him to see." I asked the nurse who nodded quickly and left the room next to the stretcher bearer, leaving me alone with the patient.

You began to prepare your things, turn on the machines and other things, turning your back to the patient.

And that was the worst thing that you could do.

While you were preparing the needle with tranquilizer to give it to the patient, the man had woken up. And not in the best conditions. He was under substances, in a place he didn't know, tied to a stretcher, with his entire body in pain, with a possible concussion and with someone who was about to prick his arm with something he had no idea what it was.

"Oh-" You said when you saw the he had woken up. But before you could say anything, the man let go of the stretcher and hit your hand, causing the needle to fall to the floor.

"Who the hell are you! Where I am? Let me out!" He screamed as he tried to free himself from his other restraints.

"Sir...calm please, you are in a hospital, you-"

"NO! YOU'RE LYING, YOU DAMN BITCH!" The man yelled before he could completely let go.

When you saw that the man got up from the stretcher, you took advantage of the fact that he was distracted and ran towards the door. Just as your hand had grabbed the door handle, the man grabbed your hair, pulling it back at the same time as you opened the door.

Luckily for you, when the door opened, the first thing you saw was Mark's face.

"Let me out! Let me out or I swear I'll kill them!" The man shouted in your ear as his other arm wrapped around your neck.

The nurse behind Mark quickly ran off in search of more help, as Mark's face contorted on fury.

"Let them go now! You're in a hospital, you can't do these things. Let them go now if you don't want us to call the police." Mark said with a strong voice. Although the reality was that the police would come anyway to arrest him for driving under the influence.

"T-the po-police..." The man said as he backed away. His arm was beginning to let go of you and when Mark noticed it too, he grabbed your arm quickly, pulling you away from the man.

Mark quickly put you behind him. He was much taller and bigger than you, so you had been completely hidden behind him, seeing his big back. The man started screaming again, this time running towards us. Mark was backing away with his hands at your sides, trying to protect you from the man who was trying to grab you again. But the man was able to take Mark's robe.

Seeing how the man and Mark were pulling, you ran to the table, took a needle and filled it with a tranquilizer. once Once you knew it was enough to put the patient to sleep for a few hours, you quickly injected it into his shoulder.

The man turned around quickly, hitting you in the face, causing you to fall sitting on the floor. And just as Mark was about to hit him back, hospital security ran in, arresting the patient.

Once they had him grabbed, and pulled away from the room, Mark quickly approached you, crouching down next to you.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? What hurts? That fucking son of a bit-" He said as he watched your nose begin to bleed.

"Mark!" You shouted to interrupt him. "I'm fine, really...and you?"

"Your nose is bleeding, probably broken, and your eye is black. Don't tell me you're fine, that bastard ruined your face..." He said seriously as he took a cotton ball and put it on your nose.

"But luckily I have you to fix it, right?" I said while smiling, trying to get him to relax.

"Of course darling..."

__________________________________

I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if something is written wrong, English is not my first language! But let me know!

🫂✨🧚

[zepskies]

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk. 

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor. 

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

 You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.” 

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely. 

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad. 

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

 “Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.   

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 7

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6

• ··········· • ············ •

The ride down the elevator was awkward bordering on comical. The enforcers had been none the wiser about your deeds, unlike the fidgeting scientist next to you.

Through the blurry reflection of the golden doors you could see him open his mouth to say something but then shake his head and turn back to the door. His foot was tapping on the floor, the rhythmic thump reverberating inside the ascensor. At some point, he had turned to you for more than a second and you had looked at him, urging him to say something but he puffed some air out and turned away from you.

When the elevator pinged and the doors opened he was quick to start his march out of the elevator but you grabbed his elbow, gently. He quickly snapped his neck to look at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you going to tell them? About…” You looked and pointed up.

“What?” He paused for a second, digesting the question, and then shook his head. “No, of course… I just… We could…if you let me…”

You recognized that expression, that tone of voice, that slight high-pitched shift in his tone. Viktor was trying to hide his excitement, and it didn’t surprise you. It was Viktor, the man who would get up from being zapped by putting his left hand in a machine to then putting the right one in there just to make sure.

Esther called your name from behind Viktor and you waved at her, smiling like nothing had happened.

“She doesn't know either… So…" "She won't know from me." His gaze pivoted from you to her. "Thank you. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You squeezed his upper arm and walked around him, feeling his golden orbs following your figure. 

'That could have gone much worse' was the last thing you thought when you passed by the enforcers trying to roll up the banner that had fallen.

• ············ •

Another week had passed and you had successfully avoided the problem that was Viktor. Not that you thought he would tell on you, but you knew excited Viktor and that needed a compartment on your brain all on its own.  And right now you needed all your brain capacity to think of how to approach Remembrance Day since it had been formally scheduled. Which means Ambessa’s attack had a date.

You brainstormed with your mother the best way to approach it. Telling Cait about the attack would have led you to even more suspicion unless you told her about everything but the less people knew, the better. Waiting out on the sidelines was also impossible, it could be a repeat of the rocket attack and you’d be back to square one.

At some point, you mentioned just destroying the statue and they’d have to reschedule it to get a new one, but the way your mother had said your name after told you how bad that idea was.

It was a sort of joint decision that the best way to improve the outcome was to go to the actual event. Which then gave you another hill to climb: how do you convince your mother, who was now convinced she was the hero's sidekick and one of the better-known faces of Piltover, that she can't come to a major event because it could end in tragedy. For her, for you, and Piltover.

“I have to be there!” She said calmly, sipping her coffee while you fine-tuned the piano. “You can’t be there. If something happens and I have to choose, one second could be enough for someone to die.” You didn’t even look at her, your head stuck inside the musical instrument. “Why would you need to choose? If Viktor is the catalyst to the thing, you save him.” Esther shrugged like this was the easiest decision in the world. “If you had to choose, who would you choose?” You argued, looking back at her. “Viktor.” She looked you dead in the eyes, shrugging and you couldn’t for the life of you feel even a bit surprised or disappointed. “Would you even forgive me if I had chosen otherwise?”

You shook your head. The answer to the riddle was simple, but it didn’t mean it was easy. And you would hesitate.

“You can’t come.” You insisted and she grumbled. “I’ll go. It'll be good. People will see me as an official representative of the family. The new member of the Rainemours. Stop gossiping.” “Yes, because you appearing alone in an official event will not make people think you’ve killed me and buried the body.”  “Tell you what.” You leaned your elbows on the side of the piano. “I’ll go alone and then you…I don't know…a Remembrance Dinner. Or something. So people know you care…” “And why would I miss the main event when I can do both?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows at you.

A moment of silence crossed between you. You took a deep breath and nodded. Walking slowly around the piano and crouched next to where she sat. She frowned as you grinned mischievously, eyes squinting in question.

“Don't you have a book to finish?” You whispered at her. 

The gasp she gasped had you biting your cheek trying not to laugh. Instead, you tilted your head, a gleam in your eyes.

“How dare you!” She said flustered, more embarrassed than angry. “I have… I’ll have you know… the chapter is well underway… and…I…” “I’m not the editor…" You interrupted and got back up to your feet. "Tell her that. She saw me at the cafe yesterday and asked for you.” 

She turned her eyes from you, flustered, taking a sip of her coffee before turning to you.

"I'm your mother…" She humphed.

“You are, and I love you, and I can't lose you again. I won't." You told her, your words filled with certainty. "And in all your wisdom, I know could make any decision in a split second, but I can't. I'll freeze and I'll stutter and I'll scream and Piltover will crumple again. Please."

Esther looked at you and her gaze softened. Sighing she nodded.

"I've been feeling a little under the weather anyway."

• ············ •

Even without a plan, you came to the event, arriving early, a black ribbon pinned to your chest. With the invitation in hand, you effortlessly passed by the Enforcers at the entrance, even if some gave you the side eye.

You found a somewhat shadowy location in the courtyard, near a metal column and some boxes. And then you watched people, coming and going. Enforcers were slowly dropping in, remaining clustered at certain points, their vans closed and watched. The stage was closed off, the heavy curtains hid the statue you knew was there. 

The sun was setting, making the glass shimmer and reflect the vanishing light. Their obsession with glass had been their worst enemy in both attacks. Many of the injured people had been people who got hit with shards of the sharp decoration. Whether it had fallen from the dome or broken by the Chembarons.

“Hello.” A familiar salutation came from right next to you and you jumped. “Holy blue balls…” you mumbled, placing a hand on your hip and walking in circles, trying to calm your heart. “Of Hextech…” Viktor finished the joke. “It's funny because it's true. I apologize for startling you again, but I… we need to talk and you have been avoiding me.”

You shook your head vehemently at him, your finger mimicking the motion.

“For me to avoid, I would have to frequent the same places you do, which I do not. So it’s merely a coincidence we haven’t crossed paths.” You lied through your teeth.

"Your mother told me, you didn’t want to come with her to the Lab the other day. That is the definition of avoiding someone.” He smiled triumphantly at his quip and you rolled your eyes.

This is the universe making you pay for your book comment. You looked away from him, groaning low in your throat. And then a plan started to form.

“We’ll talk, right now at the Lab.” The easiest way to get him away from the Memorial, feed his curiosity. “I can’t leave.” He muttered, looking at the stage.

He slumped his shoulders and leaned his back into the column, placing his cane between his legs, keeping it steady with the feet. He was the picture of dejected. You couldn't help but smile softly at him.

Viktor had cleaned up. His usual three-piece uniform had been replaced with a form-fitting black suit and tie, adorned with red and golden details. The white cane contrasted with the suit. His hair was still a mess, but if this Viktor had any similarities to your Viktor, nobody touched the hair unless it was to cut it.

“Jayce wants us to be here together.” He blurted out, pushing his hair out of the way with one hand. “'The pockets that keep us afloat will be here', he said ‘We need to present a united front’. I do not feel united with anyone here, to be honest, so I don’t understand why I need to be here. But he threatened me with a healthcare provider.”

“A healthcare provider? You mean a doctor?” You started to hear the worry in your voice. You hadn’t seen him cough, you felt his back brace and he still limped around, but he seemed to be breathing somewhat fine.

“I have a bruise on my back.” He pointed behind him “With the brace it’s not healing so well, so I’ve been going around without it. And it’s uncomfortable so--” He stopped suddenly and looked at you. “Why am I telling you this?”

You shrugged, theorizing that somewhere in the back of his subconscious he knew you were a friend.

“Anyway. Yes… I cannot leave.” He made a disgruntled face, looking at his feet, the cane swaying from one hand to the other, but never leaving the ground.

You sat on a box next to the column and leaned your elbows into your knees, looking forward at the crowd that was starting to form.

“Someone once told me he would rather ask for forgiveness than permission ” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes. “He must have been very reckless.” He said, his voice still hinting at the frustration of his predicament. “Sometimes. But he also got things done.” 

It was excruciatingly easy for your interest to go from getting him out because of the Herald to getting him out because he was unhappy. It was like muscle memory. You'd see those golden orbs even hinting at unhappiness and you'd stop to help. 

“Yes, but they are threatening me with…medical assistance.” He spat the last two words.

You were about to reply but another familiar voice shouted, coming closer. Jayce was making his way towards both of you in quick steps, his arm extended upwards as if he could go unnoticed. He was wearing a similar look to his partner, his face determined and clean-shaven. A stark contrast to the last time you saw him.

“Viktor!” he shouted again. “Jayce!” Viktor mimicked his intonation but not his enthusiasm, straightening back up and leaning into his cane. “I thought you were gone, buddy!” Jayce declared, squeezing Viktor’s arm. “Nope…still here.” “Mel wants to get me on stage with her. Usually, I’m ok with it -- Oh…Hello…” he looked at you and paused, only now realizing there was a third person there and who that third person was. “I'm Councillor Jayce Tallis of the Tallis Family.”

He showed you his hand and you took it, shaking it confidently. It has been a while since you have seen him like this. Not excited, given the time and place, but carefree, normal…untraumatized.

“I know who you are.” You stated and he nodded. “I also know who you are.” He gave you an uncomfortable grin. “Caitlyn was not happy about your mother paying off a Judge to set you free.”

Viktor audibly groaned and you could almost see him run a hand from forehead to chin.

“Mr. Tallis,” you smiled at him, squaring your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. “My mother didn’t pay a judge to set me free. She paid an attorney to write a legally binding document that would allow me to keep being a person of interest in the investigation, but instead of rotting in a jail cell until someone decided to pluck me out because they figured out how to put me in the pit for good, I would be doing it so from the comforts of my own home.”

Silence between the scientists. You gave Jayce the sweetest of smiles and added.

“Fortunately I was born on the side of the bridge that allows me those types of…leniency.”

Jayce was about to retort back but Viktor beat him to the punch.

“I hardly think antagonizing the child of one of our benefactors is going to show a united front.”

“Ah…right… I forgot.” He blabbered, pushing a hand through his gelled hair. “How’s Esther? Madame Rainemour…you mother…” “Sick and working.”  “Yes, we received her letter.” Jayce smiled awkwardly, grasping at any straw that would make him look more approachable. “Editors' deadlines are just like Investors deadlines. Pesky little buggers.”

The deep exasperated sigh that Viktor lets out behind you was enough for Jayce to understand what he had said. You were so close to bursting out laughing. This was the elixir for all your troubles, Jayce Tallis and Viktor bickering. They could go for hours really.

“The deadlines! I meant the deadlines!” Jayce corrected himself

His shoulders deflated and you snickered, stealing a glance at Viktor, who was supporting a disapproving expression, holding his head on his fingertip, slightly shaking it.

“No worries Councilor. I understand these are…trying times.” You acknowledge, trying to get him out of his funk. “Yes.” He sighed deeply, stealing a glance at Mel’s form behind him. 

“You should go to her.” You encouraged softly, he looked at you surprised and you shrugged. “Help with the speech and all. United front. The councilors and the science.”

And if he was on stage, the criminal that was gonna jump her would be easier to fend off too. Jayce would jump at the opportunity to be a hero and unlike others, he would do it without wanting recognition, although it kept knocking on his door. That’s just who he was.

“Viktor?” He asked and you turned to look at his partner. “Go. If this is your conduit with all of our patrons, I fear we won’t have any funding left when this is over.” He rolled his eyes but smiled at his friend. “They’re right. Mel looks like she could use a muscled, broad shoulder to lean on right now.”

Jayce nodded and sighed, gaze moving to you again. He pushed his hand out again and you took it.

“I am sorry. I’m usually much more… likable.”  “You still are. Good luck.” 

You watch him walk back to Mel and place a gentle hand on her lower back, her shoulders immediately relaxing. Mel had been a good friend once upon a time and a fighter until the end.

“Please don’t judge him too harshly. He has good intentions…most of the time.” Viktor gave you a one-shoulder shrug accompanied by a side smile.

You saw a flash of pink behind him and noticed Vi approaching the center of the square, hunched down, hands in pockets. The ensemble cast was almost all here. Searching the crowd you felt a couple of eyes on you and turned your gaze to the only missing piece of the night.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Her eyes held the intensity of grief and loss, but also the need for vengeance and retribution and you were her closest target at the moment.

The lights began to dim and you sighed, turning your back to the Enforcer towards the stage. Let the show begin. 

People kept filling the empty spaces and getting closer to hear and see the speech. You felt Viktor’s presence behind you and took a deep breath. If something happened it would be easier to have him here where you could account for him, rather than him being with Jayce on stage.

The place was now packed with a multitude of people, from all places in Piltover. Well, all places on this side of the bridge. Some had settled in a position where they could see the unveiling while others kept moving around trying to find a better spot. 

A rushing couple was making their way to the front of the square and hit Viktor’s cane. The familiar thud and a surprised grunt were enough for you to step backward and put an arm up, without turning to him, knowing full well how he would usually stand, leaning his full weight on his walking aid.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your clothed shoulder and another in your arm, to keep his balance. “No problem.” You whispered, trying to distract yourself from the touch by placing the tip of your foot under the cane and jerking your leg up, pulling the cane upwards to your hand. “Here you go.”

Viktor grabbed the cane with the hand that had been in your arm but kept the other on your shoulder. He didn’t know it, but this was a somewhat normal stance for both of you. Either a hand on the shoulder or in the crooked of your elbow. Especially on his worst days. Now it was starting to grow heavier and heavier. 

It's just Viktor. Good old reliable Viktor. You repeated and stole a glance at your present company, his always cold hand gently grasping your shoulder, his neck craned a bit to check the people around him, his golden eyes narrowed as he looked onto the crowd.

“You’re staring. “ he announced, his eyes turning to look down at you for a second and going back to scan the crowd. “Just wondering why you're standing here and not there.” You pointed to the backstage entrance, heavily guarded by two Enforcers. “Well, since I am here against my will, might as well stand wherever I feel like.” You snorted and saw him shrug. “Besides, I have seen and talked with these faces before. Many times. You are undoubtedly the most interesting person in the room.”

You blinked a couple of times, looking up at the man, who finally dropped his gaze to you. It takes him a moment to understand the words that came out. So much like Jayce sometimes. After a beat, he shrugged.

“Eh…it’s the truth. Do with it what you want.” His shoulders relaxed and he turned his face to the stage, and the curtains opened. You felt your cheeks redden involuntarily.

A podium stood in front of something covered with a sheet. You inhaled, held it, and exhaled. Mel began her speech and you mimicked Viktor’s action from before, your eyes darting from left to right, checking every face in the crowd, every enforcer. You spotted Vi, with her pink hair and bright red coat, although she wasn’t looking at the stage but at Caitlyn, who, much like you was scanning the crowd.

Mel’s melodic voice kept going and you kept scanning. Your focus shifted from the people to the glass house around you. It was a beautiful structure, glass and cast iron. A greenhouse of sorts, made for any type of celebration.  The glass ceiling gave everyone a beautiful view of the night sky, not yet fully dark, some purple reminiscing from the sunset. 

“I’ll never understand Piltover’s obsession with glass ceilings.” Viktor whispered as you were looking up, matching your own silent concern from before.

“People in glass houses, throwing rocks at people with glass ceilings.” You mumbled back, turning your head towards his, watching his golden orbs observing you with curiosity.

“Something like that, yes.”

You turned your head back to the stage where the statue of the three deceased councilors was displayed. Anytime now. 

The beat of your heart was quickly ramping up, loud and rhythmic, only countered by your slow breathing. You became hyper-focused. Every single movement, sound, or feeling was exacerbated. 

Clothes rustling, soft sniffles, feet shuffling on the ground. The thunderous ‘ba-dum’ of your heart in your ears, Viktor’s breathing behind you, his cane scraping the floor to find a more comfortable position, his hand on your shoulders.

Your breath quickened and you became aware of how many people were inside the glass house, how it had taken a single person on stage to make this crowd stomp their way out. 

The ripping of clothes as people ran, the sound of glass breaking, the shards burning where they slashed anything soft, the sound of children crying, the last gasp someone took before dying. 

Your eyes glazed over as your focus became panicked. You won’t be able to run out fast enough, Jayce would get Mel, Caitlyn would help Vi and you could easily grasp Viktor's arm and drag him out. But what about them, the others, the innocent people who were simply living? You couldn't save them all.

A cane scraped the ground again and something squeezed your shoulder. You looked at it. Purple sinewy fingertips, squeezing your shoulder, golden gears around his wrists.

“I need to go…” you managed to blurt out as the line between this reality and the other started to blur.

“Is everything ok?” Viktor’s soft voice sounded worried. But you heard the twisted metallic twang he had gotten after…ascending…adding a cruel ‘my friend’.

“I can’t breathe.” You choked, starting to walk backward into the protesting crowd. 

You bumped into someone and whipped your head around to look back at the angry figure. The figure of an angry woman glitched into an imposing, familiar construct. And your body just stopped moving. You willed your feet to run and get as far from the enemy as fast as possible, but nothing. You tried to get your arms to punch the thing. But all you could do was blink at the mechanical deadly beauty. 

“You’re not here. I’m not there.” You mumbled incoherently.

You felt a hand grab your elbow and pull you away from the creature and into the wall of shadows that were forming around you.

“Excuse me. Thank you.” You heard someone in front of you mumble as they dragged you along by the elbow. “Coming through. Thank you kindly, good sir.”

You let yourself be dragged, looking over your shoulder towards the angel you stood tall and bright, tilting its head. 

“Oh no…” you whimpered. “I have you. Come on.”

Your breathing started to hitch at your throat, your face flushed, and your heart both felt like it was stopping and going faster. 

The cool night air hit your face and you turned your face towards the night sky, your wide eyes losing sight of the robot. The hand on your elbow moved lower and was now holding your hand, gently pulling you along the sidewalk. A cold, pale, calloused hand with long fingers. Human. Viktor.

The sounds of your footsteps mixed with the gentle tap of Viktor’s cane had your mind finding perch in this reality again. 

“Vik?” You squeaked and the scientist stopped to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. “Come. It’s a close walk to the Lab. It will be quiet at this time.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg

[h0neylevi]

Chapter Two

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

chapter warnings: brief discussion of human trafficking

word count: 3.2k

“Where did you find him again?”

“On my way home last night on the subway.”

“... And he was–”

“In the full scout uniform, yeah.”

Your friend and fellow nurse, Allie, pauses in the wake of your words, eyes fixed on the door at the other end of the hall where one of the hospital’s doctors took Levi to be examined.

They’ve been back there for over an hour now, and you’re starting to get nervous. If this goes badly, you’re never going to live it down with your coworkers.

“Is he hot?”

Your jaw hangs when Allie’s words register, and you turn back to her with an incredulous look.

“I told you all that and that’s what you take from it?”

She raises her hands up in a defensive gesture. “I’m just saying, if the universe decided to drop a man into my lap that thought he was Erwin Smith, I would take advantage of the situation.”

That, oddly enough, makes you laugh.

“He isn’t Levi Ackerman,” you say once you’ve calmed down. “He probably just hit his head on the way from a costume party and got confused.”

On the other side of the nurse’s station, Allie groans and gets up. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’m being realistic,” you defend.

“We see weirder things walk into this hospital every day.”

“I think an anime character come to life would surpass anything we’ve ever seen.”

With a defeated little sigh, she grabs a file and rounds the corner. “Well, whatever he is, I have to get back to work.” She taps the file on your shoulder as she passes. “Have fun with Beyblade. Let me know what Paul says.”

Just as she starts down the corridor, the door at the end of the hall opens and Dr. Paul Holloway exits the exam room. His expression is solemn as he gestures for you to join him.

“Thank you again for doing this on such short notice, Dr. Holloway,” you greet him. “Did you find out anything?”

He looks down for a moment at the clipboard in his hand. “Well, the only thing really to note is that he doesn’t seem to know what year it is or where he is, but all of his tests and scans came back normal. Cognition and reflexes otherwise seem to be just fine.”

He rifles through the pages for a moment before continuing. “There are no drugs in his system, and no significant injuries that I could find that would cause this sort of temporary amnesia, so I would have to refer him out to a specialist if you wanted more answers. But as of now, my only guess could be that maybe he was trafficked and escaped. Possibly in a fugue state for so long that he has no recollection of how he got here.”

You listen intently. That wouldn’t explain the clothes you found him in, but it’s worth considering all the same. Large cities were usually hubs for human trafficking. It’s more likely than Allie’s theory at least.

Dr. Holloway seems to sense your thought process. “He should recover his memories soon, but I would suggest maybe filing a police report. I’m sure he has a family out there somewhere who’s missing him.”

You consider it. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I’ll mention it. Thanks again, Dr. Holloway.”

“Of course.”

You wait quietly as he opens the exam room door again and beckons Levi out.

He’s just as passive as ever when he sees you waiting. With a departing nod, Dr. Holloway continues down the hall to another exam room.

“So,” you begin, “how are you feeling?”

“Like a test subject,” Levi grumbles, falling into step with you. “Four-Eyes would love this place.”

You turn to look at him. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” he quickly says. “So, are you satisfied now? I can go?”

You walk through the nearby exit door on the side of the building and onto the street.

“Well, Dr. Holloway didn’t find anything wrong, so I guess you’re welcome to go wherever you like,” you say. “But I really think you should go to the police. I think something really bad has happened to you, Levi. They might be able to help you.”

While you speak, Levi looks around, studying the cars as they pass and the tall buildings.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” he sighs. “I think I’m too far from home to go back.”

The recognition that bleeds through his tone makes you curious. “Do you remember where you’re from?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His mouth twists into a frown. “It’s definitely not around here.”

You want to keep pressing but ultimately decide against it. It isn’t as if it’s any of your business, but you feel a sense of responsibility for his well-being. You were the one who found him, and if you have the means to help him get to where he needs to go, you’d be willing to offer. It isn’t as if you’ve got anything else going on in your life, but you can only do so much when he doesn’t want you to pry into his personal life.

“Well...” you trail off, unsure. “I need to get some groceries but once we get back to my place, I can wash your clothes before you leave. That’ll give you some time to decide what you want to do.”

To your surprise, it doesn’t take him long to agree.

“Okay,” he nods. “Let’s go.”

**

The supermarket isn’t far from your apartment, so you get onto the city metro together. It’s a familiar route to you, but it’s clear that Levi isn’t accustomed to the amount of people that cram themselves together into the narrow space at once.

There aren’t any seats when you climb on, so you’re forced to stand together in one of the corner exits. At the very least, Levi remembers to grab onto one of the handrails just before the train starts moving—an action that he still seems to find disgusting despite the necessity.

“What?” you laugh at his pinched expression.

“I think I preferred it the way it was last night,” he remarks, not doing anything to hide his distaste while looking around. “How often do these things get cleaned?”

You blink. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably only when something seriously hazardous happens. Like blood or puke.”

The look on his face only grows.

“Don’t worry. I have sanitizer in my bag. I can give you some when we get off,” you promise. “I never got rid of the habit from covid.”

The way Levi’s brows furrow suggest that he doesn’t know what either of those things are either, but you just shake your head, wordlessly promising to explain later.

Once you’re off the train and back out onto the street, you move to the side to pull the aforementioned bottle out of your bag. Levi watches quietly until you reach and squeeze some of the liquid into his upturned palm.

He lifts it closer to his face. “What is this?”

“It’s sanitizer,” you say, rubbing your hands together. “Just rub it in like this. It kills the germs on your hands that you can get from touching random surfaces.”

He follows your example, albeit a bit more slowly, and you set off again down the street.

The rest of the walk is done mostly in silence. Thankfully, Levi doesn’t seem to mind. He chooses mostly to walk along beside you, occasionally looking up at skyscrapers as you pass them or balk at the occasional interaction on the street. There’s a sense of wonder and curiosity that settles on his face, smoothing out the stern glare that you’ve seen him wear since you first found him on the metro.

It really is like he’s never seen anything like it before, and you wonder again about his history. He doesn’t seem afraid of anything, merely curious as he walks, and he carries himself confidently. Like a soldier…

No, that was Allie influencing your thoughts. There’s no way this man was the Levi Ackerman. Even if he had his hair, his stature, the same sullen expression, and similar mannerisms to ones you’ve seen in the anime. It’s an impossible thought. You’re not even considering it.

“What are you staring at?”

You blink and realize that he’s looking at you now and holy shit, his eyes are even that shade of blue-grey.

You turn forward again just as a crosswalk changes for you to go. “Nothing,” you say quickly. “You just… remind me of someone.”

He doesn’t reply—most likely because he doesn’t care—but you’re grateful that he doesn’t pay it any mind.

But by the time you’ve entered the supermarket and grabbed a cart, your curiosity outweighs your hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?”

Beside you, Levi scans the produce aisle you’re approaching with passive interest. “That depends.”

Ignoring him, you press forward. “Is there some reason you won’t tell me what’s going on?”

You speak and he turns to look at you, his brows furrowed.

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that there’s more to what happened than you’re letting on,” you continue. “And I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“You’re right. It is none of your business.”

The comment stings more than you expect, but you try to quickly brush it off. You don’t know this man, and in a matter of an hour or so he’ll be gone. You’d promised yourself that as long as he was healthy, you wouldn’t meddle.

But after everything you’ve done for him, it still feels unfair to treat you so dismissively. He acts like you’re a nuisance more than the person who cleaned him up and gave him a place to sleep out of the cold.

The ensuing silence is tense. You push your cart forward, suddenly eager to get out as quickly as possible. The faster you get home, the quicker he leaves. If that’s what he wants after everything you’ve done, he can have it.

You’re moving through the selection of deli cheeses when Levi speaks up again.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he says in a low voice. “I wouldn’t believe it myself if I wasn’t witnessing it with my own eyes.”

You look around, following his gaze as it skims over the refrigerated walls of pre-packaged meat and cheese.

“What are you talking about? It’s a grocery store.”

He huffs. “That doctor said the year was 2024.”

You change course, leading the way into an aisle of canned goods. “Yeah?”

It’s quiet for a long moment. Levi’s arms are crossed over his chest as he follows along.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I’m not from here.” He pauses for a moment as you pull some cans from a shelf and place them in your cart. “I’m not from this time.”

You stop for a moment and look at him. On his face is the same look he had the night before, that same sincerity when he told you he’d been looking for some sort of headquarters.

You can’t help it. You chuckle. “You’re talking about time travel.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

You continue down the aisle and turn into the next one. “Levi, there’s never been a recorded instance of time travel…ever. It’s never happened.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “See? You don’t believe me.”

“It isn’t about believing you. It’s impossible.”

But even as you say it, you don’t feel entirely convinced that it’s true.

Improbable, sure. Very unlikely. Insane that you’re even considering it, but the more you think about it, the more the pieces seem to fall into place.

The way you found him, his clothes, the way he looks around at everything like he’s seeing it all for the first time. There’s no indication that he has a serious head injury, so you can’t fall back on that anymore. And the trafficking? Well… You’ve been trained to look for red flags, and nothing about his situation seems to fit with that explanation.

Plus, there are the coins you found in the pockets of his clothes this morning. Copper and silver ones bearing symbols you don’t recognize. The silhouette of a woman in a crown.

You’d looked up every conceivable country that you could think of that might fit the bill and nothing had matched.

There’s no way that what he’s saying is true though, right? If you believe him, you’d have to believe all of it—meaning that he is Levi Ackerman and that the events of Attack on Titan are real.

No, that’s silly. In all of recorded history, there’s never been a single event that coincides with the existence of man-eating titans. Belief in giants is a fringe theory not backed by actual evidence.

But, still. Just to humor him.

“What time are you from then?” you ask.

“854.”

You stop and stare at him. “You realize that’s…over a thousand years ago, right?”

With his mouth in a thin line, Levi nods.

You continue to stare, waiting for a break in his composure. The inevitable laugh that will surely come, marking this entire conversation as a joke, but it never comes.

“You’re serious,” you finally say.

Levi blinks. “You believe me?”

God, what do you believe? “I…” You bring your hands to your face. The middle of the pasta aisle is not the place to be weighing the possibility of time travel. “No,” you finally say. “I mean, I don’t know…can you prove it?”

Levi raises a brow. “How am I supposed to prove it to you?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one claiming to be over a thousand years old.”

“I’m not claiming to be—” he cuts himself off with an irritated sigh. “You’re just as bad as the brats back home.”

Something in your patience finally snaps.

You start walking again, needing space. “You know, you could stand to be a bit nicer to me considering all I’ve done for you.”

For a long moment, there’s only the rattling sound of the cart’s wheels as they roll down the aisle.

“I am grateful,” Levi finally says, surprisingly still following next to you. “But I didn’t ask you to interfere.”

“Well, most people wouldn’t have just left a man to bleed all over the metro. I’m sorry I have basic human decency.”

“Basic human decency would have been pointing me in the direction of the nearest sink,” he points out. “You let me sleep on your couch.”

You turn to glare at him. “I’m sorry, are you complaining right now?”

“I’m saying that I don’t like owing people,” he says.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You don’t owe me anything. I would have done the same thing for anyone.”

Levi doesn’t look like he completely believes you, but at least he lets the matter rest. 

He follows you the rest of the way through the store in thoughtful silence.

Left to your own devices, you grab things without thinking, relying on muscle memory to lead you to the items you usually buy. It isn’t as if you deviate much from your favorite meals, so the rest of the process is quick.

By the time you’ve grabbed everything you need, your mood has improved enough that you feel a bit remorseful for doubting him.

Even if it was a weird idea, Levi appeared genuine. Like Dr. Holloway had said, he’d probably regain his memories soon. If he really didn’t remember anything about modern life, he was going to need someone to help him.

Maybe he shouldn’t leave so soon.

It isn’t until you turn around to speak that you realize you’re alone. A quick look around the aisle confirms that Levi’s nowhere to be seen. That’s odd. When had he wandered off?

You begin searching back through the aisles and after a few minutes, you spot him. Standing in front of the long, neat shelves lined with tea and coffee. Something akin to dread settles into your stomach at the sight.

He glances over as you approach and places a box back on the shelf. A beat passes before he clears his throat and says, “I’ve never seen so much tea in one place before.”

“Do you want some?” you ask, glancing at the box he put back—a black tea blend. He doesn’t respond, simply skimming over the labels again with a peculiar glint in his eye.

You don’t wait for an answer and pluck the box off of the shelf. He doesn’t stop you as you place it into your cart.

It’s a truce. An apology and an acknowledgment that you’re helping him all in one.

You turn your cart back around and lead the way toward the front. “I’m all done. Let’s go.”

**

The walk back home isn’t as tense as before, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either.

You keep watching Levi every chance you get. He appears more thoughtful. His gaze lingers just as it always has on the buildings and the people walking past. Cars, billboards, restaurants, all of it.

It’s got to be overwhelming. Not that you're believing him, but if he believes that he isn’t from this time, it has to be a shock to see so many unfamiliar things at once.

“What are you thinking about?” you finally ask.

His expression remains passive as he takes a deep breath, like he’s grounding himself. “Everything just looks so…”

“Artificial?” you supply when he pauses, but the look on his face tells you he’s confused by the word you use. You try again. “Uh, not natural?”

“I was going to say clean.” His voice goes soft as he looks around again. “The air is clean.”

Not sure how to respond, you turn forward and continue down the street.

It doesn’t take much longer to reach your apartment.

Levi helps carry the bags of groceries upstairs and into your kitchen, where he stands awkwardly as you unload everything into their respective spots. Luna, still curious, climbs onto the table nearby, making Levi scowl.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t shoo her away when he decides to take a seat, and he even goes so far as to let her sniff him as he looks out of the window.

You smile when you hear her chirp. A noise that you know she makes when she feels like she’s being ignored.

“You can pet her, you know?” you look over your shoulder to tell him.

He meets you with a bored look. “I know. I don’t want to.”

As if she can understand him, Luna meows again.

After you put the last item away in your fridge, you move to sit at the table across from him.

“So what are you going to do?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies, and for the first time, he sounds truly at a loss.

“Well, you’re welcome to keep staying here for a bit longer,” you say, petting Luna when she slinks over to you. “Until we figure something out.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “We,” he repeats.

You meet his gaze evenly. “Look, I don’t know where you came from or how you got here, but you’re here now and you’re still a human being. As long as you’re open to letting me help, I will.”

He seems to think on it for a moment before agreeing. “There are worse things in the world, I suppose.”

And you think that’s as close to a thank you as you’ll get.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

masterlist (part 1,2,3,4) Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[a-spes]

| THE PLACE WE'VE BEEN DREAMING OF - Imagine (1,109 words).

| Summary - when Natasha enventually gives in, and accept her wife's demand to adopt a pet.

| Tags & warning - Men & Minors DNI, soft dark!wandanat x R, not really pet play but R is reffered to as one (stray/mutt/it), a man being mean, mentions of death, hints of (past) abuse, pure fluff/comfort.

| Author's note - I wrote that quickly because it has been on my mind for so long, and I definitely needed to share it with the world, but hope you'll enjoy it anyway! I'll definitely write a longer version of it when I've time, but for the moment, here goes the first introduction to The place we've been dreaming of alternative universe (and it's only the beginning because i've so many thoughts to share about it) <3

| MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

it was wands' idea. she had begging nat for years, talking about how good it would be to have a pet, just to bring a bit of life in the household.

and that's exactly what natasha feared. because she likes how quiet, and tidy, her house is. she likes the routine she built with her wife over the years, and she is reluctant to bring another piece in her house.

but how could she deny her wife when she begs her with those puppy eyes?

so she eventually gave in, and they went into a place that's only known by the richest persons. it's kind of a shelter, but instead of animals, human being are sold.

they walked in, wands looking in the cages while nat roll her eyes everytime she tries to have her opinion. "did you find what you want?" the seller asked, and nat looks at her wife that seems to hesitate. "what's over here?" she asked back, pointing to a noisy alley that constrats with the quiet one they've just travelled.

the sellers just dismissed her question, "they're unfit" he just replied, "they're going to be send off tomorrow". "where?" wands asked. "to be killed", he replied, but when he tried to get the conversation back on his best goods, wanda ignored him: she wanted to see these ones. nat isn't surprised, her wife always having a thing for saving broken being, but she still roll her eyes, thinking about the additionnal trouble it'll bring.

so, before the man could say anything, they walk in the alley. the ambience is different. yells, cries, and dark glances greet the women, while in the first alley, everyone's was perfect. nat cringes while her wife walk around, until she crouches in front of a cage that, at the first sight, appears to be empty.

except that, that you are here. in the back of the cage, hiding where the light can barely find you, trying to forget where you are. the noise is frightening you, but your hands covering your ears isn't enough to reduce it. the yells from the other still bugging you.

you've no idea for how long you've been here, but it felt like an eternity. you've been sent back here by your previous owner, it was your last chance, you've been told, and you don't know what's going to happen. when the door clicked, you thought your hour had come, and it only made you curl up further.

but the hand that came for you wasn't harsh. it hasn't tried to grab you. when you eventually open your eyes, your met by the sight of a woman, that's trying to get you to come to her. her voice is sweet. she doesn't yell as you thought she would when you didn't move at first.

the men had to bang against the walls to get you out, which earn him a glance from both of the women. he ignored them. "this stray has one of the worse behavior. she bites, is noisy, messy, agressive, ..." but wanda isn't listening anymore. she is just looking at you, sitting in front of her, unable to ignore the look on your eyes. the fear, and the exhaustion.

you didn't bite. you didn't made a noise. you didn't try to run away.

you only flinched when she reach out to stroke your cheek, but a second was enough for you to lean into her contact. it was so sweet. so gentle. and, for the first time, it felt genuine, and even the slap or the harsh grip you were waiting for never came. she was looking at you with pity, and something you couldn't name yet.

"... she couldn't behave even to save her life, we've tried everything. she's trouble", he adds, still talking even if none of the women is caring about his opinion, "believe me, she'll be better dead", and nat muttered something how he should be the one to die, while wanda didn't listen at all to his speech, all her attention being on you right now.

"you're sure that's the one you want, wands?" she asked, but she already knew her wife would nod, and she is definitely not going to fight her, especially when she sees how attached she already seems to be.

she looked at her while she take a biscuit out of her pocket, just to give a bit to you, but ends up giving you everything when she notices how you inhaled it. her brows furrowing together, but she doesn't say a word. she knows it would be useless to start a scene right now, this man perfectly knowing how bad he is treating you, and everyone else here. or maybe he doesn't, and doesn't realizes, thinking you deserve it, and then it would be pointless to argue with him. in that instant, she wishes she could take them all home, and if she can't, she can at least save one life.

"we didn't even bring her home yet that you're already spoiling her" nat complained, rolling her eyes. a whispered, "she deserves it", is muttered under her breath while the man seems annoyed, "if you're too lenient, you're going to regret it. you need to be firm with these things, you know." "and how would you know?" nat would ask, "apparently it didn't work well, from what you said earlier" and she smirks when she notices he starts to loose his temper, his voice being harsh when he replies, "then do not even think about taking her back when you'll realize how bad she is," just to nat to assure him that he "doesn't need to worry about that".

she isn't found of her wife's choice. she would have prefer it if she choose one of the perfect pet from the first alley. one of the one that wouldn't disturb her peace. but obviously her wife had to go for a stray, a mott, and a broken one by the way. but if there are two things she enjoys it's seeing her wife smiling, and pissing off men that thinks they know everything. if adopting that one allows to do it both at the same time, then she's all for it. a part of her wanting to prove the man that he is just wrong, and is the problem in that story.

[horeisenchi]

“365 Party Girl..”

shiu kong x divorced!reader

(Kinda long, sorry!)

contains: age gap, oral sex(receiving), penetrative sex, light bdsm, breeding, drinking, drugs

NSFW MINORS DNI!🔞🔞🔞

profiles without age will be blocked

The long, gruelling process of your divorce was hitting you hard. Harder than you’d expected it to. The first couple of weeks, you were glued to your apartment. Thankfully, you work from home, so it did not affect your income. However, you completely stopped going out. Now, after you’d gotten married, you didn’t go out much to begin with. With marriage, it’s always feeling a sort of obligation to stay home. And almost every time you had actually planned to go out, your controlling husband would call you ‘childish’ and say you have better things to do. Those ‘better things’ being getting him off, and then going to sleep without another word. Before you got married, you were a full-blown party girl. It was a challenge for any man to be able to properly tie you down, for you feared that he wouldn’t approve of your loud and fast lifestyle. You didn’t want to quit, but you thought you’d found the right man. Until, the sex became bland and only about his own pleasure. You hadn’t orgasmed from anything other than the stimulation of your hand, or whatever toy you were hiding in your bedside table underneath all your underwear in the past two years. The past two years after you married that asshole in your second year of college. Two years of marriage wasted on a man who ended up leaving randomly one morning, without so much as a goodbye.

BZZZZZZZZZ!

You rolled over to your bedside table from the opposite side of the queen bed, that you at least now had to yourself.

You open your phone to a text from your good friend, Utahime, begging you to come out.

“(Y/NNNNNNNN)! Come oooon! I haven’t seen you in forever. You have that stupid cocksucker out of your life come partyyyyyyy!!!!”

Your eyes widen at the message. You hadn’t gone out in forever. Especially not with Utahime. Even though she was the maid of honour at your wedding, your now ex-husband didn’t want you going out with her. For decent reason you suppose, considering you two did tend to get into trouble. There was one time when a frat guy left his card at the local bar in the college town over, some private university guy, and you rung up his card for definitely more drinks than he could afford. This got you banned from being anywhere near that university campus for ten years. Your youth spent with Utahime, was coked out shenanigans and doing whatever you felt like doing. Because you were free.

You knew what you would be getting into accepting her offer, so your first inclination is to decline. You don’t do that anymore, you haven’t touched drugs let alone alcohol in almost a year. Not exactly out of choice, more so because of lack of exposure, but it was almost foreign territory for you now.

But, the more you thought about it, the more intriguing it sounded. That side of you had been forcefully suppressed by that man ever since you’d gotten with him. How do you know that you don’t really want to go, or if you’ve just been conditioned into not wanting to go and having that be your automatic response? I guess tonight would be that test.

“Okay, okay. Send me the address.”

With that text sent, you knew you were locked in for the night. No backing out.

“Tokyo Taste, huh? Alright…” you mumble as you recognize the address sent to you. The last time you’d gone to Tokyo Taste, you got hit on HARD.

The guy in question, was an underclassman named Suguru Geto. Utahime brought him with her, along with her other high school friends. It’s not that he wasn’t attractive, dear lord that man was so gorgeous and statuesque. You had no idea why he was even talking to you, honestly. It’s just that you could tell that he was bored. He wasn’t actually interested in you, he just saw you as an easy target. He so much as grabbed your waist, bought you a drink, bent down to whisper in your ear how good you looked, and how he could imagine himself ripping that short black dress off you later. But while he was doing that, he was checking out almost every other woman in the room. If you followed his gaze every time he’d back away from you, and suddenly act uninterested, it was him locking eyes with another woman. Sure, he didn’t owe you anything. You guys weren’t together, and had only met that night. But, you had more self respect than to just allow yourself to be someone’s entertainment. You wanted someone to be all in, interested. Knowing they have options but just giving you their attention. That was when you developed actual standards.

You sluggishly got up out of bed, the time being a whopping 9:30 PM, and sauntered over to your closet. Stepping inside, you let your eyes wander as you try to find suitable clothes for going out. As you rummage through your things, you remember how you threw a lot of that stuff out, remembering the judging gaze of your ex husband as you got dressed and he demanded you change and cover up.

Finally, you land on a short, off the shoulder long sleeve black dress that clung to your body. It wasn’t the most revealing, but it was really sexy nonetheless. Along with it, you put on some dainty jewelry and some black stilettos. With a last look in the mirror after fixing your hair and throwing on just a tinge of makeup, you threw your purse over your shoulder and headed out.

As you drove to the club, your gut churned a bit. Nervous, from what may come from tonight.

No, (Y/N)… don’t do anything you don’t want to..

You tell yourself before hopping out of your car, and start heading into the club. You pay the stupid $15 door fee (and wonder how the hell you managed to scrape up the money for it so often back then), and head inside.

Your eyes scan the room, searching for Utahime in the crowd of sweaty, practically half naked bodies that surrounded you. As soon as you spot her, she’s sitting on a high top table, seated in the chair with a man standing between her legs as she stares up at him, wantonly. You ultimately decide to leave her alone for a minute, inclining you to go to the bar where you flag down the bartender and order an extra dirty martini. You take your seat at the bar and sip it, as you wait for Utahime to be done with whatever man she’s currently frisking. As you’re sitting at the bar, you feel a pair of eyes on you. A man, wearing a suit (probably having come here right after work), having a cigarette at the side of the bar that was by the large open window. You quickly look away, not gathering much of his facial features.

“No.. no, (Y/N). It’s too soon.”

You tell yourself. You suddenly feel way too intensely about the man staring at you, neither deciding if it was bad or good, before you stand up and bee-line for Utahime’s table not even caring if she’s getting fingered by some random guy under the table.

Utahime spots you as you sit down with your drink. “(Y/N)! You maaaaaaaade it!” She drunkenly slurs. You can’t help but chuckle at her current state, not feeling surprised at all. “Well, you look like you’re having a good time.” She shoos the random man away, earning a confused grimace from him as he walks away.

“Aw, did I ruin your chances of getting some?” You ask with a tinge of faux-pity. “No, more like denying my dealer some action for giving me some free stuff.”

You don’t show it, but mentally you’re shaking your head at the knowledge now that she still did that stuff. But, then again you can’t judge. You were right there with her. “You wannaaaaa..?” She shakes the little clear bag full of white powder just outside of her purse before slipping it in there, giving me a look of knowing she’s trouble. You knew if you said no, she would drop it and never ask again. But, a part of you was burning. Itching for some sort of release, some type of taste of who you used to be that you let go of so long ago. You knew it was mostly for the better… but fuck it.

“Bathroom. Now.” You respond, firmly.

After heading to the handicap stall with Utahime, and doing one… two… okay, maybe three lines, you feel yourself start to loosen up. Your body on overdrive, like you just had four shots of espresso, and your mind shut off. Completely driven by your id. The two of you come out of the bathroom like two firecrackers, ready to shoot off. The next hour or so is like a blur. All you knew is that you and Utahime were loud as hell at that table, ordering drink after drink after drink, occasionally stopping to dance to whatever song you liked came on. One in particular made its way on your playlist afterward, 365 by Charli XCX. You guess it had just recently come out, considering you’d never heard it in a club before.

“Til the windows crack I’ll be (bumpin that)

No I never go home don’t sleep don’t eat just do it on repeat keep (bumpin that)

When I’m in the club yeah I’m (bumpin that)

365 party girl (bumpin that)”

Drink in hand, jaw swinging, pupils blown out, it was a high you had been chasing. It was exactly what you needed, to bring yourself back to reminding yourself who you are. You needed to be allowed to be wild, to be allowed to have freedom, you couldn’t be controlled.

You make your way back to the table with Utahime, your drunkenness showing, but you’re high from the substance dying down, allowing yourself to level out a moment. You were about to suggest to Utahime for another line, when she interrupts you.

“There’s a guy at the bar who’s been staring at you this entire time.”

It was the same guy from earlier. You look over, this time letting your eyes graze over his features. He was lean, certainly built, but lean. His hair was clean, he had a sort of ‘rich douche’ countenance to him. And he was staring at you, intently. Not making it a secret, either. Your mind reeled back to what you had thought about Geto last time you were here..

“I want a man to know he has other options, but still just want me. Only be interested in me.”

As your mind flashes back to that, you realize that this guy was giving you exactly what you wanted. Hell, it didn’t look like he was talking to other girls here, and he’s practically had his gaze on you from the moment you got here.

“He’s hot, you should frisk him!” Utahime exclaims enthusiastically.

“Uta! I just got divorced-“

She interrupts you “So what?! You’re divorced from that douche who didn’t give a single fuck about you?!”

Well, shit. She had a point.

With that encouragement, you get up and walk over to the mystery man who was certainly not tearing his gaze away from you as you approached him, stopping just a foot in front of him.

“You got a starin problem?” You ask, loudly over the blaring music of the club.

“Didn’t know checking out a hot woman was a problem.” He replies, cocky as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Lord, that was hot.. and he was a lot taller up close..

“You been starin’ all night.” I call him out, seeing how he’d react.

He chuckles, knowing you’re right. “Damn right I have. I know what I like.” After saying that, his eyes shamelessly trail down your body, particularly taking longer gazes at your breasts which didn’t leave much to the imagination in that dress.

“Yeah? And what is it that you like.” You decide to play coy, tease him a bit. Make him work for it.

He moves his head, trying to get a good look at you from all angles. Looking a bit behind you at your rear, at your sides, taking in your general body shape. Then his eyes raise, his gaze lingering on your face, taking in your slightly messy state. He licks his lips before replying. “Well, you’re ungodly sexy, that goes without saying. You got a body men fantasize about. And you seem loose, and fun. You got the whole indie sleaze, messy sort of thing. You were just dancing, but it looks like you just got fucked senseless.”

He pauses a moment before continuing. “And, you got a nice face to go along with it.”

You feel a pool of heat growing in the pit of your stomach. All of his words accumulated together had you feeling just slightly cocky. You could tell he wanted you. He wanted you bad.

“How many girls you talked to tonight?” You ask, suddenly after moments of silence.

He was taken aback by your question, but meeting your gaze with a smirk “Just been waiting for you to come to me, baby.”

That was it. It was like a switch flipping in the back of your mind. Okay, it was game time. Even if it was bad, even if you never speak to him again, he’d make a damn good rebound fuck.

Another hour or so goes by, chatting with this man. You found out his name is Shiu Kong, he’s a Korean citizen, and he won’t exactly describe what his job entails. You just assume he works for the government or something. The big find, was that he was older. Much older. About 20 years older. When he revealed to you he was 42, your jaw hung, and not just from the dust.

He looked damn good for his age. Not that 40s are old, but just he didn’t look it at all. You would’ve guessed late 20s-early 30s. But 40s?

You’d always fantasized about having an older man. Someone to take care of you, pay for your nails, spoil you rotten, and come fuck you braindead after he gets off work. Someone affectionate, who doesn’t play games, because why would he? He’s been around the block enough. He’s probably tired of games.

And in turn, when you tell him you’re only 22, he almost contemplates stopping the conversation right there. He didn’t want to seem like some creep who’s preying on this woman half his age. However, when you brush off his age at your initial reaction, and explain to him you were just surprised, he shoos those thoughts away. He begins to fantasize about having a woman who is wild, spontaneous, damn near uncontrollable. Someone he’ll have to put in their place every now and then. This wasn’t a fantasy he had often, but dear lord you were bringing that out of him tenfold.

You decided you’d take him home. Whats the worst that could happen?

You both take separate cars back to your apartment, because the last thing you want is it to be bad or awkward afterward, and then have to drive him to his car. After getting there, you lead him up to your apartment.

Anticipation was running through you like a wildfire. The remnants of coke and alcohol still evident, but not nearly as strong as before. Just enough to give you a confidence boost and help you act a bit more bold than usual. You very quickly, eagerly reach up to unlock the front door, and usher the both of you inside. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He watches as you frantically unlock the door with amusement, smirking to himself about how excited you were. How excited you were to have him as your rebound.

As soon as the door shuts, he goes to speak

“So, what do you-“

You cut him off by jumping his bones. You’d manhandled him, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and forcing his head around to meet you in a rough, wanting kiss. Pressing your body against his. He doesn’t resist, if anything, he complies in record time. He pushes you against the wall, trapping you in with his body as his hands trail down your sides with a firm grasp. His hands rest on your waist, forcefully pulling you into his hips. The kiss was hot, and rough as he damn near shoves his tongue down your throat wanting to taste all of you. Damn, you looked so good. And you tasted just as sweet.

The kiss grew sloppier, the more you incorporated your tongues. Saliva had painted the areas around both of your mouths, the skin glistening in the dim light of your apartment. You hadn’t felt this wanted in a long, long time. His hands continued to roam your body, this time latching onto whatever he can. Whether it be your ass, which he couldn’t stop staring at while you walked in front of him to your apartment. Your chest, that he could not for the life of him break his gaze away from when you spoke to him. Your shoulders, that looked so slender and biteable. Or your face, which was just so exquisite to him.

You kicked off your heels, dropping down to a smaller height. With them on, you were almost his height. With them off, you were just to his shoulder. He stopped for a moment to look at you, his hands raking through your hair gentle as he did so. Taking in just exactly how small you were compared to him. He looked like a man starved, and this just turned you on even more.

“My room is this way.” You tell him, softly, as you begin walking that way. Motioning for him to follow you.

With diligence, he follows you to your bedroom. He looks around for a moment as you go ahead and sit on the bed. It was similar to your living room, in terms of it being kept very neat and tidy and just slightly… empty? You’d told him you were divorced, but from the apartment, it looked almost half done. Like you haven’t filled the space quite yet.

He looks at you on the bed. He bites his lip and lets his gaze rake up and down your body, taking in how good you look sitting there all ready for him. He walks toward you, loosening his tie as he kneels down in front of you. You wonder for a moment what he was planning on doing, but the way he’d looked up at you as he kneeled down told you all you needed to know. He loosened his tie, and unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt before he traces his hands up your legs, slowly moving to part your inner thighs. You comply, spreading them for him. His fingers trail to your heat, gently spreading around your folds, getting a good look at your lack of panties as well as the slick that was forming there. All for him. “This all for me, baby?” He asks, with a cocky grin. You reply with a nod, biting your lip as you throw your head back. The sensation was too good, and one you went too long without.

His thumb then starts circling your sensitive clit, earning a low groan from you, and your hips squirming ever so slightly, causing him to take his hands and hold your hips in place so that he could get to work. “Let me take care of you, doll.” He says in a gruff, throaty voice before his mouth delves between your legs, giving your cunt a good swipe from bottom to top, before latching his lips onto your anticipating clit. Your jaw hangs slack. The warmth and the sensation from his tongue lapping and his lips sucking on your sensitive clit was almost too much. But, you wanted it. You wanted that release so badly. You wrap a leg over his shoulder and down his back, locking him into his position between your legs where he knelt on the floor before you. Your hand running through his hair, and using your other to support you on the bed. Your eyes went between looking down at him, rolling your eyes back and biting your lip as you watch him go to work on your pussy, and to the ceiling, just when the feeling was getting just too good when you needed to let out a loud, guttural moan that was too intense to contain.

“F-fuuuck.. Shiu- god, your mouth.. f-feels too good..”

He looks up for a moment, detaching his mouth, which let you get a good look at the slick that now painted his entire chin. “Yeah, doll? You like how I eat your pussy?” He says before immediately going back to work, eyes shut and practically pussydrunk as he buries himself into your cunt, going between tongue fucking you and making out with your clit, every so often shaking his face around down there to really savour the taste.

“Y-yeah… y- eat my pussy- s-so good- fuck.. god I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, a bit louder than the rest you’d been letting spill out as your grip on his hair tightens, the leg that ran over his shoulder and down his back stiffening as your head rolls back. You pant, and whine as you reach your mind-blowing orgasm. Coming completely undone in front of him. He can’t help but flick his eyes up, watching what he’s doing to you. His tongue movements go a bit slower, helping you ride out your orgasm before he detaches his lips, tilting his head up to look up at you as he licks his lips clean. A cocky grin forming on his lips, knowing just how damn good he made you feel.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks, his hands grazing up and down your thighs. When you nod, that gives him everything he needed to stand up in front of you, and start undressing himself. “Yeah, well. I’m gonna make you feel even better here in a moment. You gonna be a good girl and take it?”

You look up at him, all doe eyed and curious as he removes his tie, then his dress shirt, and his pants as he throws it all on the floor. “Y-yes-“ you reply to his initial question.

“Yes, what?” He asks. You couldn’t tell what exactly he wanted. Sir? Daddy? Master? “What do you want me to call you?”

He walks over to you, removing his boxers finally. Letting his length spring up and slap his gut. It was big, but not big enough to where you felt like you were going to be in agony tomorrow unable to walk. So, that was promising. He kicks them off, and forcefully grabs you by the jaw to look up at him.

“Sit up straight, baby.” He demands. You didn’t expect that to be what he says, but you comply, fixing your posture as you look up at him.

“Tonight, I want you to call me daddy. Tonight, you’re gonna let daddy use you however he wants. You’re going to obey daddy. You’re going to be daddy’s girl, tonight. That sound good to you?” He asks in a daunting tone, almost like he’s telling the rules to a child. You nod, complying with his demands.

“Get daddy’s cock wet.” He demands, pushing his dick forward into your face. You take his cock in your hand, giving it a pump or two before putting it in your mouth. Letting him bottom out to the back of your throat, you get his cock nice and ready for you. He softly puts his hand in your hair, smirking to himself as he watched you obey him so diligently.

“Yeah, doll.. you know how to do it- yeah.. just like that.. doing so good for me. Such a good girl.” He then pulls your head back, and motions for you to get up further on the bed. You lay yourself down in the center as he positions himself over you.

“Lift your dress up.”

You obey his order, lifting your dress over your head, revealing that you not only weren’t wearing panties, but weren’t wearing a bra either. He tuts as he looks down at your body, letting his hands grab and paw at your bare chest. His thumbs toying with your hard nipples, earning a soft whine from you. “Such a dirty girl. Wearing nothing under that thing you call a dress. You were just begging to get fucked.” He coos as he pinches down on your nipple harder, a small yelp coming from your throat.

You hadn’t realized before, but he still had his tie in hand. You finally noticed once he forcefully grabbed your wrists, and tied them above your head. The tie was nice and tight. Definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. His hands go back to feeling up your chest, letting the fleshy mounds fill up his hands before..

SMACK!

You let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him slapping your tits. He does it one.. two.. three more times before mumbling to himself. “Dirty, dirty little slut..” your chest felt a bit raw, red from how hard he slapped them around. He sat there and admired his work. A red hand print forming on the side of your breast, causing his cock to twitch with pride.

He then moves down between your legs, positioning his hard, pink tip at your entrance. Swiping it up and down your cunt, slapping it on your clit. “What does baby want? Do you want daddy to fuck you? Do you want daddy to fuck you like the little whore you are? A little whore that goes out naked under her dress?”

You bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. Your brows knit together, you give him an eager nod.

He looks dissatisfied with your answer, giving your pussy a small slap with his cock. “Words, doll.”

“Y-yes daddy.. please- please fuck me..” you beg and plead, your voice strained and sounding desperate.

Without another word, he slips inside you, completely bottoming out. He lets out a loud groan, his jaw falling open as he pushes himself inside your warm walls. You let out a long, whiny moan, having not expected to feel all of him that fast. It was slightly painful, but it felt damn good.

He starts relentlessly pounding into you, his hand finding solace and support from gripping your wrists above your head, keeping himself upright as he rutted his hips in and out of you.

It was all so much at once. He hadn’t even given you time to properly adjust to his size before he was jackhammering inside of you. Your moans come out, long, and damn they were loud. You were certainly fuelling his ego with just how much you were clearly enjoying it.

“You like it- hnnngh- you like it, doll? You like- you like how daddy fucks you? Ah- tell daddy how much you like it..”

You could hardly think straight. All that ran through your mind were the intense amounts of pleasure that flood through your body, and the sounds that came from it. Your pussy giving pornographic squelches with each thrust of his cock, the lewd slaps of your skin together, the heavy breathing from both parties along with the series of moans. You could hardly formulate a sentence.

“D-daddy- ugh.. daddy f-fffucks me s-so good- AH~!”

The whites of his eyes take over as he hears you say that. He straightens himself up, throwing your legs over his shoulders with much haste before he continues pounding into your pussy. His eyes locked and mesmerized by your facial expressions, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, just how damn good and tight you felt around him.

You’re now screaming his name after he props your legs up, allowing him deeper entry, causing him to hit that sensitive spot that your ex husband couldn’t ever seem to find before.

“S-Shiu- FUCK! HNNNGH-“

He can feel himself reaching his climax, but lord he never wanted this to be over. He wanted to keep fucking you into oblivion. He wanted to keep watching you in the whirls of ecstasy at his cock. It was all over for him when he felt your pussy tighten around him, indicating that you were reaching yours as well.

“D-daddy- I’m gonna cum- I- I’m-“

He shushes you, speaking to you calmly and soothing as opposed to how he was absolutely destroying your insides. “I’m right there too, doll.. ah-“ he winces at he approaches his climax. “I’m gonna cum inside you.. I’m gonna fill you with my seed.. get- get you pregnant.. ah!”

Your back arches, your tied hands coming down onto your stomach as your elbows buckle as you crumble under him for the second time. Drool coming down your chin as you pant and mewl at your orgasm crashing down even harder than the last.

And with that, he was shooting hot silky ropes of cum into your cunt. Fucking it deep inside you as he watches the white substance bunch up around the base of his cock, and leaking down to his balls.

His pace slows down, riding out both of your orgasms. After pulling himself out, he reaches up to untie your wrists, letting you adjust to having it off.

You lie there with your eyes shut, completely breathless after what just happened. It wasn’t until you hear the jingling of his belt before your eyes opened up to see him getting dressed.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You ask, trying to not sound desperate.

“I’m not too interested in just being a rebound, doll. But, if you decide I’m just too good to have as just a rebound..” he digs around in his pocket for a moment, before handing you a business card with his phone number on it. ‘Shiu Kong - Formal Handler’

You wondered what formal handler meant. But, before you could ask, he was bidding you goodbye and making his grand exit. You lay there, dumbfounded at how quickly that turned around. Did you just get ‘you-ed’ by this guy..?

It took days of consideration and replaying the events of that night in your mind over and over, before you called him.

Thanks for reading!!! This is my first fic I’m posting on here so pleaaase be nice, but also if you have any constructive criticism I’m SO open to it. Thanks!

[dear--mars]

Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

── Synopsis: Soulmates. The concept sounded unreal, too good to be true. And it seemed it was. Nothing lasts forever and the thought of being together even in another world was just a dream.

── Characters: Blade, Aventurine, and Veritas

── CW: can't find anything. (please let me know if I missed any.)

── Notes: kinda occ ngl... [angst/no comfort]

── Word count: 591 + 891 + 867 = 2349 words in total

Blade ── Blade was a wandering soul. Both of you knew that and yet you still tried to tie him down. But could you really be blamed?

How could you think he wanted anything else when all he did was send mixed signals? One moment he’s cold and distant then he’s all over you, being needy and needing your comfort. So was it any surprise when you eventually got tired of his on-and-off behavior?

So you left. 

You started a new life on the small planet of Adion. You worked a job you actually liked, made new relationships, and never stressed too much about things that didn’t matter. It was the turning of a new leaf.

But with joy come sorrow and suffering.

A loud banging at your door echoed throughout your house. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to fall back asleep, but the noise breaks the peaceful sleep you’re so desperately clinging to. 

You sat up, rubbing your eyes before taking a look at the clock for a few moments, it’s two in the morning. You had no idea what was going on but you had a familiar sense of deja vu that you couldn’t shake. 

"Damn it… Who the hell is that?" You mumbled to yourself before getting out of bed to walk to the front door. But once you saw who was at your door, every hint of fatigue fled your body as your blood ran cold. 

It was Blade.

You slightly faltered as your mind ran a hundred miles per hour trying to think of how he found you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back, not wanting to be in his vicinity.

Wordlessly, Blade reached out and stopped you. In the past, you would’ve said that Blade was one of the hardest men to read but as of right now, you could tell every thought that ran through his head.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen each other for a few months. The slight tug on his eyebrows that showed frustration, the dark circles under his eyes told you that he hadn’t slept for a while, and lastly the desperation and relief hidden in his eyes.

“Why?” was the only thing he croaked out.

You immediately understood what he was asking and a flash of irritation crossed your face. “Are you serious? Why? Why did I leave?” You asked, finishing his question. When you saw him nod, you scoffed.

You pulled your hand away from his but it chased after your warmth instinctively. “Why wouldn’t I leave? What have you done for me to make me want to stay?” You spat out harshly.

Blade flinched and gritted his teeth. He reached out to grab your hand again, this time intertwining his fingers with yours. “Maybe not in this lifetime but do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” He mumbled out, clearly in a vulnerable state.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not anymore. You cared way too much in the past, it was time to move on from this chapter in your life. Time to move on from Blade. “Do you leave me in every universe?” Your tone was bitter.

Even more so than him. Only then did Blade truly realize just how much power you had over him. You could make him the happiest he had ever been, more than he thought he could be but you could also drag him into the deepest depths of pain and agony.

Aventurine ── Aventurine. What a man.

At times you couldn’t believe he was yours. Waking up next to him and seeing his smile made you fall in love with him all over again. But you should’ve suspected something was up with a man so perfect and flawless.

You should have anticipated this turn of events. The plot twist was so overused that the only appropriate response you could get out was laughter. Lovers betraying each other—how cliché. 

How could someone be so blind just because of love? You couldn't fathom it. You hated this trope and Aventurine knew that. Maybe that’s why he was smiling ever so slyly when he revealed his true intentions. 

After telling you the truth, Aventurine left your home cold and empty, taking any semblance of warmth with him. Years passed and you were forced to move on. Did you still love him deep down? Of course, but time moved forward whether you were ready or not.

Aventurine was born lucky. Being blessed by Gaiathra Triclops from birth, Aventurine grew up always having luck at his side. A fact that he hated but one that he relied on often. 

That’s why he thought no matter what, he’d always win. But Aventurine hadn’t known that his ‘luck’ only really constituted physical ideas and plans, not emotions. Especially his or yours, not after everything he did to you.

Aventurine felt a void in his chest like something was missing. You, Obviously but he would never admit that. As “carefree” Aventurine is, he still has his pride. He used you even if it was for work, catching feelings wasn’t an option.

But it never hurt to see how you were doing, right?

That’s the excuse Aventurine used as he sat in your hotel room. He never would’ve thought you’d be here in Penacony but it worked out in his favor. (Everything always did.)

Aventurine hears the door creak open and footsteps but they stop as soon as you laid eyes on him. Your eyes widened, you could recognize that tuff of blond hair just about anywhere in the universe.

Your breathing gets a bit heavier as your hands curl into fists. Aventurine doesn’t need to turn around to see you’re upset but he does anyway. He wants to see your beautiful face after all. 

God, you were extraordinary. Even after years of being apart, you still looked the same. If anything, you grew to be more attractive. Your soft skin, your plump lips, and your luscious hair that shined even under artificial lighting.

“Hey. It’s been a while, huh?” He asked, hiding his true feelings and masking them with a facade of confidence and nonchalance. “Never expected you to come to Penacony of all places.”

Your heart ached when Aventurine spoke to you with an air of familiarity. You hated how he acted like nothing happened between the you two. You ignored his words, cutting straight to the point. “What are you doing here.” You asked but it was more of a demand.

Aventurine raised his hands in mock surrender. “What’s with the hostility? I just came here to say hi and catch up.”

“Get out.” Your tone was bitter.

“Come on-” You cut him off,

“No. Get out of my room. Or wait, should I beg you to stay like last time so you’ll definitely leave?” You mocked, in slight disbelief of Aventurine’s audacity.

Aventurine ever so slightly faltered at your tone and words. “Okay, ouch.” He joked but deep down your actions hurt. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” But when Aventurine saw the glare in your eyes, he decided to drop the facade.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he did when he was feeling guilty or bad. “Do you remember our first anniversary? When we were having that picnic under that giant weeping willow?” He reminisced with a strained smile.

“You asked back then if we’d be soulmates in every universe and I said yes, knowing that I’d have to betray you. I feel like it’s my turn.” Aventurine paused and took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

You didn’t hesitate in cutting down any and all expectations, Aventurine held. “Why would you think that when you ruined it for us in this one?” You counted with a question of your own.

Aventurine froze before smiling, trying to mask the pain in his expression. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to say something so cruel but I understand,” Aventurine said with a smile, trying to act playful and nonchalant. 

He then left your room without any more complaints. The truth of the situation didn't hit him until he saw you at the bar, laughing and drinking with another man. Maybe my luck has finally run out. He thought, trying to shove back any emotions from leaking out.

Aventurine had never truly wanted anything in his life. He couldn't afford the luxury of wanting something. He never asked for all the wealth he amassed or the luck he was born with. Hell, he didn’t even really want freedom. After being chained down for so long, Aventurine wouldn't know what to do if he was free.

But you were different.

He wanted you. But he couldn’t. 

And that was what pissed him off the most.

Veritas ── Dating Veritas was not for the weakhearted. Due to his extreme talent and unparalleled intelligence, he holds himself in high regard. He comes off as candid, self-centered, and condescending. 

Even mocking or narcissistic at times. But you knew him better. Veritas was just a bit too blunt but he was sensible and levelheaded. He wasn’t a bad person. In fact, it’s the opposite. 

He firmly believes that intellect isn’t confined to geniuses and seeks to distribute knowledge to the entire universe, all to “cure” ignorance. He wants to help people but is just a bit odd or “mean” while doing it. 

He does have a bit of an eccentric temperament but he meant well. That’s what you always told yourself but that excuse was starting to grow old. You were trying to be considered an understanding of where he was coming from, you always have been.

But you can only take so much. A person can only get knocked down so many times before they decide it's better to just stay on the floor. And it seemed you were reaching that breaking point with Veritas.

He would always point out your mistakes, nitpick something irrelevant, or just for the sake of it. You started to wonder if he even loved you. Never once did he really show affection toward you.

At first you tried to acknowledge that he might not feel comfortable with that but after years of being together, if he still wasn't comfortable enough with you to show basic affection… You couldn't help but wonder, what the hell have you been doing for the past four years of your life?

One day you had enough. 

Your words rang clearly throughout his study, "Veritas, I think we should stop seeing each other." You said vaguely but the message was clear. 

Veritas froze upon hearing your words, not expecting you to say such a thing. "Why?" he asked simply, the coldness now turning into a sharp tone. The suddenness of this topic left him confused, a part of him wanting to lash out at you, but he refrained.

"I just don't think we're compatible as a couple."

Veritas scoffed as soon as you finished speaking, feeling slightly annoyed at that word. Was 'compatibility' the thing that doomed their relationship? "So you have realised we are not compatible after so many years of being together?" His tone now sharp with the hints of slight aggression.

You didn’t flinch at his cold tone. "You don't have to get so defensive, I'm not blaming you." You said with a gentle expression, which was odd for you. You've always been more hot-headed and impulsive so seeing you like this was weird to Veritas.

"It's just that I want to be loved in a more open way and you can't provide that for me which is okay. That's just not you, and I don't want you to change yourself for me. I'm sure you're more suited with someone who's like yourself. I'm just not the person."

Veritas could tell by your calm explanation, that you’ve been thinking about this for quite some time and that fact stabbed his heart in a way he’d never felt before. "I tried my best to love you as much as I possibly can, but apparently that was not enough for you..."

"Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved." You countered and Veritas froze. "Let's think about it this way. Let's say you're trying to teach somebody something. It's easy for you so you have high expectations for the person you’re teaching. But that person just doesn't get it. They're trying their best but they're not understanding. You would feel upset or annoyed, right? Because their best isn't good enough for you." You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“The fault wouldn't be placed on the person who's trying their best, it would be placed on the one who had unrealistic expectations.” You finished with a strained smile. You loved Veritas, with all your heart but you couldn’t go on like this.

Veritas had to stifle the urge to argue for a moment. He hated how accurate your example was, but he also understood your point. “Do you believe in fate? Destiny and or soulmates, things like that?“ He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

You paused, raising an eyebrow at him. Veritas was an intelligent man when it came to logic and reasoning. Things like destiny and fate weren't “logical” in the slightest. “I suppose.” You answered carefully.

“Do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” You blinked at Veritas’ question. Never in a million years would you have thought that he would ask you something like that. You sighed and decided to give him a taste of his own blunt medicine.

“Do you treat me like shit in every universe?” Veritas felt his heart shatter at your response. He didn’t know you felt like that. He didn’t know that he was treating you so badly to the point where’d you had to resort to this.

He regretted asking. This would perhaps be the only time he wished to remain ignorant, despite his life goal of getting rid of it. 

- Navigation -   - Supernova -

[mandowifey]

What kind of father figure behaviours would Miguel have?? I’m thinking protective af

Oh boy oh boy oh boy BUCKLE UP.

Father!Miguel O'Hara Headcannons

Warnings: ANGST, SO MUCH ANGST, Mentions of child loss, death, violence, this is canon Miguel, reader can give birth but is not gendered. Mentions of trauma, depression, bad brain times. He's a broken man, yknow?

× × ×

First and foremost, Miguel is scared.

This is a man who had lost it all twice. He had watched his child die. He had lapsed so terribly into himself that he was able to rationalize stepping into another man's life and pretending to be him. He isn't right minded, he's broken and hurting.

All that self blame and doubt chokes him sometimes.

He hurts, constantly.

When you tell him you're pregnant, everything goes still. Fatherhood is something that had always been just outside of his grasp, and now it was here right in front of him. He doesn't fill with light, or smile and laugh, but he does look at you like he's seeing a ghost. There is fear in his eyes, not of you or the baby, but himself.

Because what if he fucks this up again?

Miguel can not stand the idea of opening himself to that pain. He already shoulders that guilt every day, rewatching videos of himself with his daughter. Can he even find room in his heart for another child? He almost feels like it is a betrayal, that he was never a good man to begin with if he were so willing to move on.

When your face drops and your eyes brim with tears, he pulls out of it.

One of Miguel's best abilities is being strong for others. He can be what you need right now, and he will.

Cue the absolute nightmare of expecting his child.

Aside from you being sick, Miguel worries, constantly.

The man can hardly focus on his work. He always asks one of the doctors to go check on you or have you in contact with him. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean the multiverse loses its importance. But god is he distracted.

"Have you been eating enough?"

"Taking your vitamins?"

"How much water have you had?"

It'd be cute if you didn't know better.

You know how much he has lost and you know that he is petrified of losing you both too. Not to mention you are certain he feels undeserving of another chance, especially after destroying an innocent alternate universe.

The way he looks at you tells you everything; he thinks you are made of glass. Something fragile that could break any moment. While you try to assure him that isn't the case, he still worries.

Once you start showing, it's over.

He is constantly caressing your stomach, holding you close, breathing you in. He thinks you smell so good pregnant. Miguel loves to feel your belly, cooing to you about how good you look carrying his child. You don't doubt for a second he loves you.

Miguel is protective, most assuredly. When you want to go walking around the base or go grab snacks he is on you like a shadow. Always watching, always protecting. He makes sure the other spider folk don't bump you, and offers to carry you when you mention your feet swelling.

God, he'd love to feed you. Checking on you constantly if you're hungry, offering to run and grab any cravings you ask for.

When you get further along, he likes to talk to the baby. Speaking in Spanish occasionally but mostly asking if they are giving you trouble.

"They are gonna have my attitude, I know it."

Oh boy, when the baby comes?

Ohhhh boy.

First off it is a way bigger deal than it has to be.

That man would be in the middle of a job and get a ring on his watch.

"JESS, I GOTTA GO."

And she looks at him in time to watch him clawing back into a portal.

Him running full speed, throwing himself against walls and scratching down them to get to your room faster.

His mask withdrawing to show messy hair and wide brown eyes, coming to your side and taking your hand.

"I'm here, Im here." As he kisses into your damp hair.

You get to surprise him, twice.

He didn't know the sex, and didn't know you were having two.

When he see's his daughters for the first time, his eyes leak. The smile on his face stretches miles, his arms open as he cradles them into him. Oh he'd be melting.

You'd never seen him cry, but that day he does.

He's so proud of you, telling you how well you did and how much he loves you.

"Okay Miguel, gotta let me hold one." You laugh.

He's inseparable from you. Looking at those babies with such love and surprise, unable to believe that he was a father, again.

When you fall asleep with the girls tucked in your arms, he stays up and pets your hair.

And he promises himself that this time it will be different.

Your babies would be HELLA protected.

Good god, he is like a hawk with those girls.

Always watching, always making sure they were safe. He'd have eyes on them constantly.

Miguel is a good man at heart, and now he wants to make things right. He'd dedicate as much time to your family as possible, asking Jessica to stand in for him as often as possible (until she herself has her child).

He'd want to teach them to be like him. One of your daughters can stick to walls, and the other has tiny claws like he does. You enjoy lounging on the couch while he climbs the walls with the girls giggling after him.

Your family is beautiful, blissful. He protects all three of you.

And while sometimes you have to hold him at night and assure him that its okay to move on, he knows he's doing his best. He wraps you in his arms and looks at the baby monitor screen, watching the girls sleep. He begins to doze as you pet his hair, assuring him they were just fine.

Miguel would fall asleep against you, head tucked in your neck and strong arms locked around you.

And he would believe it was okay to forgive himself.

[hhighkey]

Taken, part 2 // Uvogin, one shot - part of hhighkey's phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: stockholm syndrome, love??, implied past kidnapping, implied references to depression, suicidal thoughts, unnamed chronic illness, medical inaccuracies, marriage, rough sex, size kink, lots of come im so sorry, manipulation, female reader Note: about 17k words, ao3 link: xxx, link to part 1

The union could never be legal, technically Uvogin didn’t exist, but that didn’t matter. Not to you when he confidently proposed with the biggest grin months after getting you back from Bates, going on a ramble about the thought of you being someone else’s wife terrified him. To him, it furthered his ownership of you, and was another way to show his utmost commitment and love. Not that kidnapping you four years ago was a total display of it or anything… That it took someone else trying to marry you for him to think of it. 

Never sure what to categorize as the happiest day of your life, for now that day took the cake. How even on one knee he was taller than you, a gorgeous ring in hand (you could thank Chrollo for that as you found out later). The idea of being someone’s wife when you were little had been like a dream, you’d always gawk at wedding stores and the dresses on display. It was more of a fantasy to look the prettiest surrounded by even prettier decor, not necessarily about the concept of ‘in life and death.’ After so long with Uvogin you understood that marriage wasn’t about a gorgeous wedding but about the vows and status it brought. Because your relationship with Uvogin was the epitome of together until death. And with each day getting harder to get out of bed, blood painting your tissues after coughing, you realize that death is on the horizon.

However, for the last few weeks Uvogin was doing his best to avoid a certain group. The term ‘bachelorette party’ became a forbidden term to me murmured around him, it’d be a night where he’d have no control. However, three people weren’t letting him off easy as you found amusement in him trapped.

“Fuck no.” Uvogin grunted, eyes tensely looking over the three female Troupe members, “She doesn't leave my sight when I’m not workin’.” 

“It’s a thing Uvo.” Machi said, “You’re not supposed to see the bride a few days leading up to the wedding, especially the night before and day of.”

“Okay so you can have her tomorrow then.” He waves them off, going to grab your arm, but Machi cuts him off stepping in front of you.

“No, you can survive two days without her.” 

“Whaddya wanna do babe?” He focused on you, pretending not to hear the pink haired woman. 

Your mouth falls open as you glance between Uvo and Machi. Your chest flutters with discomfort being in the middle of a strange face-off, where you particularly didn’t want to see Uvogin perturbed with you if you agreed with the girls. “Um..” 

“The four of us are going to do something tonight.” Pakunoda steps in, her voice level like she were talking to an overly large toddler not getting its way. 

“Like what?” 

“None of your business.” She stared at the larger man down. 

“Well Y/N’s my business so, anything she does is my business.” 

“It’s bad enough we can’t force Phinks and Feitan to let us have their girls, but let the poor bride-to-be have a bachelorette party where nothing can possibly happen. Then she’ll be your wife in two days and you can dictate the rest of her life, how about that?” Machi huffs, annoyed, “Go bother Nobu if you get bored but we’re taking her.”

“Yeah, no you ain’t.” He went to push past her, but she shot a hand up pressing on his chest. 

“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Machi asked. 

“I- Uvo I would really like to spend time with them.” With a slowly ticking clock on your life due to the state of your health, you think you should say what you want. For a second you remember, like a little flicker at the back of your brain, times spent with friends shopping, movies, gossiping about boys. Makes your heart yearn for that type of connection again. Clarity seemed to leak into the depth of your mind the sicker you got. 

He frowned at you and time seemed to stop until he nodded, “Alright.”

“That was easy, thought we’d have to steal her in the middle of the night.” Shizuku said absentmindedly, which earned her a few glares. 

Uvo fretted over you before he let you go, fingers prodding along your delicate skin as if you were the most precious treasure, as if you’d break from one touch alone. 

“Behave.” His words come across as a warning but you hear the depth to it, the worry rather than a threat. 

“I always do.” You tease, moving to hug his thick, muscular torso. A small part of you wants him to scoop you up and lock you away with him, your heart beginning to panic at the idea of separating from him. Yet your mind told you to stay strong no matter how badly you wanted to melt right into him. 

Uvogin made a few more tiny threats towards the girls before he finally left, telling you he’d be at the Base. For a moment your chest twisted in pain knowing he’d be hours away, not working. You could survive being without him due to his job, but not knowing he was free.

So you stood in your townhome with Machi, Paku and Shizuku watching you. Sure, you considered them your friends at this point, slowly considered most members of the Troupe your friends. Yet you knew their loyalty to you was really loyalty to Uvogin, the help protecting you, keeping you healthy, keeping you happy- was all for him. While you’re sure they care for you as a person enough to make small talk, you’re Uvogin’s property through and through. But this moment as you debated what to do, made you want to feel hopeful. The three of them didn’t need to do this. It made no sense for them to fight with Uvo for days to let them host something. 

How Machi’s fingers dug into your bicep as you involuntarily took steps forward, 

“Don’t.”

You didn’t know how to be without him. Your body was slowly dying, and not the dramatic bullshit of aging. So perhaps it was quickly dying. The ever exhausting fog you lived in where all you had was Uvogin to care for you. His warmth disappearing from the room settled a chill and awareness. 

Machi has her normal blank expression, but she seems pleased when you nod, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

The looks exchanged made you wary. 

The devilish upturn of Machi’s lips makes you wonder if you should go run back to Uvo. But the part of you, stuck oh so deep down, that couldn’t rebel for years was overjoyed as it wretched its way out. 

“We are going out.”

“Out..?”

“You know, what normal girls do, dress up and get drunk, flirt with men.” 

You cringe at the last part, discomfort swirling in your gut. Normality. Normal girls. You play the words over and over, hearing her words echo as a harsh reminder. But also self reflection as these three weren’t normal either. Farther from it and yourself. Perhaps you nodded, agreeing to the location they wanted, because you’d missed out on so much. Though the sour taste in your mouth lingers as you all get ready as if it were any other night- that everyone in the Troupe was all aware of the fact Uvo kidnapped you. No one told him that he should reconsider, that it’d be selfish. But did you even want that? Would you have wanted Machi or Nobu to tell him to let you go? Because the thought makes your stomach flutter with wrenching nerves you don’t want to think about, as society’s version of normal wasn’t yours. And like that, you snapped back to the image staring back at you in the mirror, the girl chronically ill yet irrevocably in love with someone they shouldn’t be.

You look- strange. Yet you’re taken aback by the beautiful girl Paku had turned you into, makeup breathing life back into your sullen state. A flash of somebody else, a younger version of you reflected, prior to knowing what you’d become and with who. It’s nostalgic almost, thinking about the minimal times you’d gone to a bar with a coworker or an old school friend, how you debated over what to wear or how to do your hair. With Uvo it was simple- he didn’t care what was on your body, or if you had makeup, he controlled everything you could and couldn’t do and it simplified everything. 

The dress fit you like a glove, pushing cleavage up and you wanted to retreat into yourself.

The night sky preys down on you. Buildings feeling like they were closing in, the openness of the town, the fresh air felt like a jail. The fact you were in the open with options was suffocating, but you walked with your arm linked with Paku’s trying to save face. Trying to push down your insecurities and thoughts of Uvo getting angry with you. He’d never have let you wear this, never had let Machi push a shot of vodka down your throat prior to leaving. Thrilling. Yet terrifying. The best way to sum up what coursed through your veins while wanting to turn around at the same time. 

The lack of alcohol the last five or so years was clear, the shot made your cheeks tinged pink and a dazed smile on your lips. You tried hard now to sway as you walked and luckily the cool breeze against you the last few minutes helped to bring you back down. The taste of it was exhilarating- dancing on the edge of inebriation and the thoughts that came with it!

“I- Can’t.” You take a step back, “Too many people- I can’t.”

“Hey- Y/N.” 

You stare at the ground as you stumble back to some steps, letting the cold pavement press against you. Stuck inside yourself as your world spun you began to ramble, 

“I- Only people I’ve been around are the Troupe. No more than 12, never more. A-And Bates kept people away from me. No- No, too many. Feels suffocating, like I can’t breathe.” You look at them with terror written across your face, “Why are you all doing this for me? Because you know I’ll die? Or because you feel bad for me? Y-You know he kidnapped me, I’m not allowed to use phones or see my old friends, my family thinks I’m dead. Yet…” 

Machi crouches down to get eye level with you, “You deserve a night of freedom and fun you should have had. You’ve given all of us more kindness than we deserve all these years. And Uvo has never been happier in all the time we’ve known him. We want to repay it back before you die as his wife.” 

“We’ll take any backlash that comes of this, with your state Uvo wouldn’t dare to upset you.” Paku said, correctly inferring the nagging at the back of your mind that this would make him furious.

“You could get away with a lot more than you realize because he’s terrified of you dying, remember that.” Machi’s intensity bores into you in a way that makes you sit straight up. Either from the fact her nen could kill you in an instant or she was trying to instill you with a backbone. 

“How much longer do you have, Y/N?” Shizuku asked. 

“I… Don’t know.” You push your fingers against your temple, trying to stifle the weight of everything on your shoulders. The sting of the vodka still in the back of your throat, your eyes focused on the heels you wore. 

“A year at most, probably eight months.” Machi replied.

“Why- Why would Uvo be scared to upset me? Hasn’t stopped him before.” You flinch at the reminder of your impending doom, no matter how much you were coming to terms with it; It was Uvogin’s karma.

“With my non-professional medical guess, who's been there since the start, is that there’s so much medicine can do if you’re giving up. Uvo doesn’t want you to want to die, selfishly wants you to hang on for as long as possible even if you’re in pain.”

Oh. It felt like you hit a wall. A harsh wave of soberness and the realization of where you were, “I wondered, why it took him so long to think of marrying me? Did Bates love me more to go through those lengths? What did I do to deserve all this?”

No one spoke. It would have been hypocritical for them to, they were just as big of monsters as Uvo. That they didn’t need you looking at the situation from an outsider’s viewpoint anymore, a discomfort settled within their guts. 

“Can we- still go to that bar?” You ask, breaking the silence you caused. 

As much as you spilled to them unprompted, knowing your words wouldn’t spur them emotionally to do anything, you were always smart not to let anyone in on the doubt you felt. On the anxiousness since Bates, on the second guessing if your emotions for Uvo were real. You knew everyone would take it wrong, that you’d been indoctrinated or rebelling. 

Because hadn’t Uvo washed away every insecurity that made you doubt your love? All this hushed proclamations whilst his cock was buried in your guts. The small touches and the fact you no longer had to lift a finger. His ever permanent seeming presence. Right? Ringing struck up in your ears forcing you to shake it off, Right. Right. No question about it as you stared at the ring on your left finger. You were excited to be his wife, to further cement your love. You had to be. 

“Of course,” Paku said, “Let’s go. You can hold onto us as much as you need.” 

Everything was a blur after they helped you up from the step, urging you to forget about your woes. The line wasn’t a long wait before you’re stepping into what felt like an alternate dimension. Thick sweat-infused-air with the smell of alcohol, bodies shoved like sardines, and strobe lights beamed around. 

Music. Music! Oh it made you sway in utter glee as the bass reverberated in the depth of your soul. You felt like a fish out of water with your fingers intertwined with Paku’s, looking around the room like an awe struck child seeing the world for the first time. 

A glass was shoved in your hand and you indulged, then again, and again. Uncaring for the strength of the liquor or the overly sweet syrups, the taste of freedom was absolutely addicting. How you’d missed alcohol in all this time, you’d beg Uvo to let you drink again. Soon your vision blurred along with your doubts. 

It was tiring always worrying. Always wondering. Being on edge. Doubting. It made you suffocate and being able to let go was pure relief. Giggle and laugh with the three Troupe members like any other friend group would. Even if they weren’t as into or as relaxed as you, watching your every move, you didn’t mind. They were doing this for you.

Any man that approached you was shooed off with a threatening glance from Machi. You were encapsulated in a perfect bubble as you bounced around sucking down another tequila infused drink. Not caring that you didn’t know any of the lyrics because this was music you’d never heard before. When was the last time you’d listened to music? You stop as you warm, bodies pressing to you, and you realize you don’t know. 

You tug your dress further down your thighs, attempting to cover more. You falter in your steps and arms are on your waist in an instant. 

“Ready?” Shizuku stares through her glasses at you.

You nod. Was it late? How long had you been inside the club dancing to your heart's content as your mind went to mush. 

The air outside was frigid compared to your body’s temperature, to the red flush along your skin and sweat beading at your hairline. Hair a frizzy mess. Mascara smeared under your eyes with the glitter from atop your lids. You hadn’t smiled so big in so long, to the point your cheeks ached as you tried to skip along the paved sidewalks, giggling like a madwoman. Pakunoda never let you get far though, listened and responded to your entertainingly slurred words and statements. And how you slowly began to wear down, to slow in your steps as you wrapped an arm around her. Contentment resonated from you. 

They’re on edge first, you not noticing the sudden change in atmosphere. That the aura around you all dropped, anger seething through it. Three forms stood past the turn. One particularly large. 

Uvogin. Flanked by Nobu and Phinks, who looked more annoyed than anything. Yet it wasn’t them that brought concern, because Uvo looked halfway ready to destroy the local buildings. 

“The fuck are you all doin’? Thinking you can take my soon to be wife out to get drunk, take ‘er somewhere I don’t fucking know.” He’s rigid, a murderous aura surrounding him. Muscles flexing as his jaw locked. Oh Uvogin was a big and terrifying man yet you looked at him like the dark, bustling city was naught. 

“Uvo!” You squeal, delighted, your core flush with warmth as you don’t notice his anger. Your thoughts are screaming for him, chanting his name like a prayer because there he is! He’s suddenly in your sights, though you aren’t sure why there’s two of him, but all you want is to squeeze him, take him for yourself. The way his thighs squeezed against the fabric of his shorts you narrowed in on, thinking about running your hands against them, prodding into the skin. Massaging and kissing and moving to his thick co- your core goes warm, such liquid goodness that you can’t fathom being away from him any longer, your daydream making you go numb.

You push off Paku and skip over to Uvo, practically throwing yourself into him. Which he caught you with ease even without prior notice. You nuzzled into his warmth, feeling his calloused fingers run along your arms. You don’t feel how he tugged down your dress as it’d ridden up, or as he checked for any marks. And you certainly didn’t feel the genuine panic, terror past jealousy of you drunk around others. The fear of you out without him. Finding someone else more interesting upon realizing how much he’d taken from you. Living a life that didn’t include him. And if you wanted said life back over what you two built on the cracked foundations only help up on your (possibly) messed up sense of reality. 

“Hi baby.” Uvo said in a fairly choked back tone; his attempt to seem relaxed towards you while he was really seething. In his mind he had to blame his fellow Spiders, that this was on them, not you. 

“Want you.” You whined softly, eyes filled with heated want that bore into him. Your palms flat on his chest feeling his erratic heart beat like it was your lifeline, “Missed you.”

You don’t remember much, not as you swayed in his grasp, vision splitting your environment from doubles to triples. The hazed joy settled into a comfortable exhaustion as your eyelids drooped, uncaring for the voices that argued around you. It doesn’t matter that it’s getting heated, not to you, this night has been better than the stars above. Topped off with Uvogin at the end. As your head falls limp, knees buckling, your last drunken thought is on the wedding. 

Feeling your body beginning to go limp as you mewled into him, Uvo picks you up cradling you into him. Your touch grounded him. Your excitement to see him might have been what stopped a possible massacre powered by his anger and fists alone. You’d missed him terribly even when you had the whole world at your fingers, and he loved that. Filled him with a sense of pride. 

“We’re going.” Uvogin nodded to Nobu and Phinks.

“Good fucking thing I didn’t let my girl come. Will have to tell Feitan ‘bout this.” Phinks grumbled under his breath.

“We’re heading back to Base.” Nobunaga tells the girls, “Come if you want, will be a tight squeeze.”

The group began their departure, silence amongst a still bustling town. Tension thick enough to cut with a knife, trepidation building within a few of the Spiders. Strange looks from some, especially at the large man carrying a girl who looked like she had a rough night out. 

Soon buildings died out. Lights limited. Roads turning to dirt, fences showcasing expansive private overgrown property. Countryside came into view with a car waiting, as Phinks pulled out the keys. For a second they all share uncomfortable glances unsure how they’ll all fit, but one person in particular had a dark cloud above her.  

“Uvogin.” Machi said dangerously low, fists clenched and Shizuku ready to grab her if needed. “How long have you had her now, four years, or is it five? She’s not going anywhere she’s in love with you, as much as she’s able. She doesn’t know how to think without you telling her what to think about, nonetheless run away anywhere. Where would she go? She relies on you for everything and more, you are her life. And she’s happy about it I guess, babbled about you all night. She doesn’t have long and you know it, don’t let her go it’ll do more harm than good but… let her say goodbyes. Proper ones to those you took her from.”  

“No.” He responded without pause, “You’ve gone soft, Machi I’m surprised. I ain’t letting her out my sight from here on out, I’ll let Chrollo know I need a fucking sabbatical or something. You’ll be lucky if I let any of you see her again.” 

“She’d be upset about that.”

“Whatever.” 

“You say that now.” She knew he was bluffing, and of course he was. 

He squeezed your sleeping frame before settling into the passenger seat of the car, keeping you tight to him. He stared at your angelic form feeling his heart squeeze, “Don’t do something like this again. And one day maybe you might understand a sliver of what I feel for her and why I do what I do.”

Uvogin couldn’t fathom missing another one of your breaths. Not a single one. Because from here on out he’d claim them all as his. 

-

This was how it was meant to be- your wedding day- you realize as you stare at your reflection. You remember the attempted one with Bates felt like walking to your doom, while this time around with Uvo? It felt like you were walking through a floralled field surrounded by a thick lavender odor, heading towards the rest of your life. It felt right. 

A white gown flows along your emaciated body that has a faint golden sheen from the joy swirling within you. Excitement coursed in your veins as you finished final touches for your hair and makeup, relying on Paku heavily for assistance. 

It’s Fall, the orange and red leaves falling delicately around you as you carefully walk along a gravel path with grass laying flat from overuse. The cooling air filled with a cinnamon spice odor so acutely that of the lengthening nights as Hallow’s Eve was around the corner. Feeling wrapped in the comfort of your favorite season, a molten liquid spread as you inched closer and closer to the altar. Arm looped in Paku’s, a smile lives etched on your face as tears prick at your eyes, swirling sentient settling within. After much convincing, Uvogin agreed to an outdoor wedding at sunset, not being able to say no to you. The Trope had done an immaculate job at setting up a cozy venue

It was a whirlwind. Walking down the aisle to Uvogin. How he looked at you with misty eyes and utter happiness, looking devilishly handsome in a tailored suit, something you never imagined seeing him in. He towered over you with a powerful aura that made you feel safe. Nothing else existed when in Uvogin’s orbit. How his hands held yours, staring so intently like you were the entire world. That you were all that existed on this plane, that all he wanted was to whisk you away as soon as vows were shared. 

You were always his, but to Uvogin this tied you to him forever. Emotionally linked your cute self to him in a way that meant everything to you, while to him the title of marriage did little to change his feelings. It made your heart swell and your face beam with love, making this worth it in his eyes.  

And it was worth it to see you walking down the aisle to him. His pupils dilated, shoulders dropping, mouth quirked up at the sight of you in a white gown. An angel. His heart soared and he stood a tad straighter beaming with pride. 

Closer. Closer to him. Time seemed to slow as you both became so consciously aware of the other, of how your hearts raced in rhythm combining. Circulating souls, winding and meshing, flowing together like pieces of twine twisting and twisting. Paku handed you off to him and he’s lit with a burning need as your smaller hands slot into his perfectly. A necessity so pure, like a starving man who’d kill for his survival, burn the world to the ground to have you. 

Nothing else mattered besides you; not Chrollo who began the ceremony, not the eyes and pleasant words of the other Spiders and their partners (who stared hopeful at their lovers). 

Only your tears of merriment as you peered up at him like he was your savior, mattered. He was your salvation. The sweet words that left your lips as you cried through your vows with breathy laughs, built him up more and more. Uvogin’s vows were strong, filled with his promises of protection and love, his thinly-veiled apologies for the past and the excitement to continue as husband and wife. 

A faint cinnamon smell wafted on the breeze, heavy earthy-spice amongst the falling leaves. The sun is setting beyond the horizon. Dimming violet skies flourished as the ceremony ended- you in Uvogin’s arms as vows sealed with a kiss. A symphony of harmonious noises blurred out your surroundings, a deafening buzzing that should have made your stomach churn and your instincts blare red. Instead it’s elation that spurred your tunnel vision as you kiss your husband passionately uncaring for anything else. 

Maybe you were too far gone from the clarity you’d had, from the questions of Uvo’s real feelings you once picked apart. All of it drowned and stamped out. Glowing delight crammed into every vein and bone, to your most miniscule of nerves. Plugged up so thick with the taste of Uvogin that you’re almost drunk off his scent alone, off the way his eyes raked along your body. The thought of him looking and touching anywhere else made you want to die. Like he was the oxygen you breathed. A fresh intake of air seeping with amber and intoxicating caramel, the taste of a maple tree’s smoky bark going up your nostrils to the tip of your head. 

Dizzied by his musk. Dizzies as your mind buzzed like a million honey bees flew about in crazed circles. Unable to wipe the grin off your face as Uvogin picks you up Bridal style to carry you off. Marital bliss is already consuming the two of you whole, Uvogin’s aura a violent red as his chest swelled with possession. 

Every inch of Uvogin; from his flexing muscles to his grueling height where his toes tingle with want. He was wounded so tight. Chords pulling and pulling, fraying as they did, and any moment they’d snap. He’d snap. Flustering begins to control him and you can see it in his eyes. The fire. The lust. All of it.

Uvogin wastes no time getting to his corridor of the Base, since everyone wanted the loud man in his own area to reprieve them of his usual antics. 

And he wasted no time placing you on the bed with a thump, your giggles music to his ears. Pure joy shimmered across your features and it had been far too long since he’d seen it. Uvo relishes in it as he helps you out of the wedding gown (tries to help while you beg for him not to rip it). Because for the rest of the night he has plans that will keep you a mess on his cock as you cry and scream for more, drunk off overstimulation, none of your innocent happiness to be found. Only your reliance on him. Your need for him. 

You’re on your back faster than you can blink, Uvogin pulling you to the edge of the bed. On his knees between your thighs you watch him with insatiable lust clouding your eyes, your senses, sending little volts of electricity up your spine as his rough fingers traced the skin of your inner thighs. How he kneaded and stoked, your mewls and constant jerking making a devious look fall over him. 

“I ain’t gonna be nice, gonna fuck my pretty little wife til’ she can’t take it. Then I’m gonna keep going.” His breaths fans along your clothed cunt, your liquids beginning to soak through the white fabric. 

You nod, feeling the numb tingle of anticipation wash over your body. Your mind as if it hung out to dry, lust dulling your senses. 

The sudden onslaught of his tongue has you seeing stars. He knows exactly how to tease your entrance to make you squirm and gasp, knows how you like how he oscillates his long tongue inside you to pull out an orgasm. Stroking your inner thighs so playfully and feather like, 

“Uvo- pl-please!” You beg, fingers yanking at his scalp. You need him like you need oxygen to breathe. Your senses are so dull, the air smelling thick of your juices and sex, a tangy musk that is sweet because it’s because of your love for him that you feel this way.

“Need somethin’?” The vibrations of his deep voice sent shivers up your spine, your mind spinning in lust as with a flick of his tongue, the way it then drags along your folds brings you back to your high. 

Sobbing for him as you snap, squirt dribbles and he laps it up, sucking your engorged clit to make you shake. To make you tremble and jerk and try to push his face away as slurping noises fill the room. 

“Ne-ed you!” You sob, “In me!” Your head is spinning and all you can think about is having his cock stretching you out. 

He relinquishes with a final kiss above your clit, pulling to strip himself of his clothes.

Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between you two, you’re so small beneath him, just so cute laying in awe at his naked hulking body as his hand goes to stroke his godly length. You’re so tiny, so breakable and while he is always as careful as a man like him can muster, right now all he wants to do fragment you into a thousand little pieces. 

“You’re so damn tiny, wife.” Blood rushes to his cock, hardening it even more as the tip leaks precum swollen and red. The way his hand engulfs parts of your leg as he gropes makes him burn and he knows he can’t hold back much longer. 

“You want this fat cock in your tight cunt? You wanna be nice and full, all stretched out? Gonna take all I give you?” 

“God yes, Uvo.” You keen, “Please, fill me.”

“Who do ya belong to, wife?” His eyes darken as he lines his cockhead up to your dripping entrance. 

You squirm and moan lewdly, unable to focus as pleasure grinds at your core, “Y-You Uvo! My husband, I’m yours- your wife- yours.” You babble as his swollen tip continues to tease you. 

“Cunt is mine.” He thrusts in fully, a silent scream escapes you as your eyes roll back. Uvogin’s cock pulses and he groans in pleasure, muscled legs trembling as his nerves are shot full of an addictive high from your body, “Tits are mine.” He engulfs one of your breasts in his hand, thumb rubbing over a pebbled nipple. “Whole damn body is mine. Your fucking mind is mine, I own you.” His thrusts turn erratic, slapping skin reverberates in the room as your little pussy takes his ginormous size and violent force behind each fuck against your cervix.

Already a mess, you’re easy to move, easy to morph as Uvo adjusts you on the bed. Angle was just right, your ankles held down at your head and his hips just so to drive into you so deep you won’t be able to walk. Your orgasm blossoms as squirt juts from your hole as Uvogin’s long cock spreads you too wide and too deep, the pain electric and overwhelming but your hips shake. 

“You’re so pretty baby, so damn good takin’ me like this.” He grunts, throwing his head back as he continues to fuck into you, his balls slapping against your ass. “I love ya, love how you squeeze me. You want my cum this bad? I’ll give it to you, get you nice and full from it. Take me deeper now, you can do it, yeah?” 

His vulgar words are disoriented in your ears but they make you feel obscene, make you smile sordidly with tears in your eyes, and nod like your life depended on it. 

You’re lost in his wicked aura. Your wedding night lived up to all you would have hoped for it, as your dress lay discarded and you were folded in different positions as your husband drove the both of you to pleasured highs again and again. Heavy spurts of come coated your insides, too much so that it trickled out and painted your thighs, painted the sheets. Again and again he plugged you with his cock and filled you with heavy grunts, letting you feel the hot come shooting out from him for far too long, far too much that you could almost taste it in your throat. He hit every sensitive spot you loved that made you feel mushy and braindead, just a reliant little thing on him. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You could barely hold your head up or moan how much you loved him and his cock. Your eyelids grew heavier, while your body shook from the continued rapture. 

Uvogin kissed you so lovingly, so much so that it hid his true malicious intents you couldn’t understand in your fucked out state, “I got you baby, gonna let me use you?”

You nod. Smile like a drunken idiot, and go lax. You feel every thrust, every pulse and curve of his cock, each slap against your ass, each kiss, lick, grope along every open inch of skin. You knew this was heaven. Heaven as he pushed you to your chest, hiking back your ass and slamming in. Your poor cunt quivered, gaping wide from his girth as his come leaked out, lower tummy inflated and Uvogin watched you with a glint in his eyes, and he couldn’t keep his emotions in. He let out a monstrous roar, one the brute was known for, and he let you take every inch of him uncaring if you broke or said it was too much. But you took it. You always did. Even if your gummy walls tried to force him out, tried to tighten up too much but he’d always push past the defenses to claim you and feel your clamping cunt as it came, as it squirted. And god as he’d toy with your aching clit he’d see you spasm even in your passed out state.

His fingers gripped your hips, they’d leave bruises he’d stare at proudly tomorrow. And he knows more marks will follow, he needs to mark you, to show anyone who you belonged to on all open parts of your skin. Your eyelids were finally permanently closed at this point, once done-up hair a mess, makeup all smeared. Tiny mewls all that escaped your parted lips. Yet your pussy still squeezed him like a vice, milking him for all it was worth begging for more, “Still so fucking needy for me aren’t ya? Don’t worry I’ll fill you all night till I got nothing left, you know your husband will always take care of you.”

-

Uvogin could never help himself when it came to you from the second he laid eyes upon you. His feelings are too intense and overpowering of his superb fortitude, years of destruction and rigidness in his work. And it took awhile the first few months before he took you because he adored who you were, and did not want you to become a shallow version of yourself. But he always knew it was his job to protect you as your friend turned captor, turned partner, turned husband. 

What type of man was he if he couldn’t keep his love safe? He’d spent years diligently watching over you, even going as far as to check your body for harm. Make sure you ate well, slept enough, and had a good amount of things to keep you mentally entertained. He knew you like the back of his hand and it was why he struggled from the start when you couldn’t get healthy. But with his mind set on it, it would happen, he was sure. 

Uvogin wasn’t always suited for tough conversations when it came to you, overall happy with everything. Never complaining about not being able to contact anyone outside the Troupe or go outside without him or an escort. You stopped going stir crazy after accepting your feelings for home were true all those years ago, loving his clingy touches and loud humor. 

But as the weeks went on after the wedding, your state got worse. And so did his helplessness, the gut feeling that he was still not doing enough. His optimism wore on himself as much as it did you. 

Everything about you makes his heart race at such a speed he wonders if one day you’ll give him a heart attack. Simply based on his overly obsessive actions and thoughts, his every waking being is all for you. 

“Uvo, stop it.” You swat at his large hand that held a protein bar, “I’ll just throw it up. Don’t wanna.”

So maybe it was all coming to head after almost two years. Exasperation with the situation that turned into taking it out on the other. More or less you wanted a break from the pity, the treating you like a little porcelain doll by your lover. 

“You gotta eat, babe. Can’t survive off that baby food shit.” He sighed referencing the nasty apple sauces, ground up food into weird shakes that made him gag. 

“Better than nothing.” You murmur, staring aimlessly at the blankets you sat under.

Uvogin ran a hand through his hair, feeling disgruntled by your frail form not even looking at him. He moved towards the bathroom, dropping the bar in the trash. He wants to scoop you up, pin your chest to the mattress to fuck into you to hear you chant his name. 

He doesn’t mean to snap at you. But god he can’t fucking stand to watch what you’re doing, because he’s not stupid. He missed his girl, her smiles and snark, how she’d be equally all over him as he was towards her. His best friend and lover wrapped up in one. While he wasn’t cruel, swore if you were in pain then so was he, but he was tired of this push and pull. 

“You’re giving up.” His words come out harsher than he intended, but the bitterness bubbling up his throat spurred them on.

“Stop.” 

You wipe at your eyes because of the sudden tear that fell down your cheek. His words feel like a painful stab to the gut. 

“I can’t- I won’t watch you die, Y/N. Not even thinking about what this is doing to me. I can’t be without you.”

Anger filled you but you couldn’t breathe, dry heaving through your sudden sobs that hit you like an avalanche, “Doing to you? I’m the one dying, Uvogin. I’m the one in pain every day and every breath.”

He flinched at the usage of his full name. 

“Let me die, please it hurts so bad and I have fought. Fought for you, for us but I’m so tired. You need to let me go so you can move on with your life rather than be stuck as my caretaker.” Desperation laces your words, all you want is for him to hold you in his arms. Not for him to stand by the door with a faraway look. The sorrow on his features and the regret swirling in his eyes. You know he’s hurting, but this is destroying you.

“Is that what you think?” His fists clench, muscles going taut as they strain against his shirt, “That you’re a burden? That I’m better off without you? I take care of you because I love you, not out of some stupid fucking caretaker duty I’m obligated to.” 

“But aren’t you? You are the one who kidnapped me, you have to care for me or throw me to the curb if I’m not fulfilling my duties.” You spat, and you don’t regret the words as they slap him in the face making it twist in a dark glare. 

His brows pinched together, lips purse as he exhaled jadedly. The fierce mocking chuckle spewing out made your blood run cold, “We going there?”

“Maybe we should. We never have properly, always joking about it because it worked out for us. I downplayed what you did because you always respected me, kept me as me. Didn’t force me to fuck you, or be with you. And we always had amazing rapport even before that.” The aggravation of talking to him like he was a non-receptive 8ft plus wall made you want to rip your hair out. Not a flash of any emotions on his face leaving you to reel and second guess. 

“What’s the point of this babe? Gonna start throwin’ shit at me again? Begging me to let you go?”

“No!” You sit up straight, rolling your shoulders back feeling frustration and the sudden want to rip your hair out, “I love you. Only way I’ll ever want to leave is if you no longer feel the same, or if you hurt me. But jesus Uvogin, put yourself in my shoes even with your limited fucking ability to empathise. Because sometimes I wonder if you love me the way I love you, or if I have fucking stockholm syndrome!”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“The truth, how you really feel.” You press, almost as if you wanted him to snap. You’re tired of half truths, of him dumbing everything down like you’re a child.

“The truth?” His eyes narrowed as his chest thumped, felt like his insides were turning inside out in absolute agony, “Truth is I feel fuckin’ useless and you no longer care about living. You are leaving me, you’ll be dead. And now I’m hearin’ you think your feelings are fake? What a fucking time this is.”

“How am I supposed to not die, Uvogin? Tell me. I sleep all day, take handfuls of pills, IV for fluids. My body is rejecting it all and you don’t care that I’m in pain, you care more about having me around so you can get off.”

An explosion of red aura escapes him with a growl, his fist coming down on the closest piece of furniture. You gasp, heavy sobs returning as you recoil in ear. Realizing what he’d done, he tried to approach you, but you cried for him to stay away. Fear. Dizzied confusion written on you and Uvogin doesn’t know how to take it away. Not even the first few months after taking you, had you looked at him like that. And it made him want to die. 

“Y/N, M’sorry. Fuck. You’re my life, I love you. You aren’t some fucktoy to me, you’re the reason I breathe. And I’m so scared of the day I gotta live without you. It’s no excuse, but please. Would never hurt you, you’ve gotta know that right?”

You stare at him. Blank. Fingers gripping the blankets you used as a shield until your  knuckles turned white. Wet streaks falling down your face, off your jaw staining the fabric. 

“By begging me to stay alive… You are hurting me.” You whisper, but he can hear. 

“Fine,” He growls needing to leave your presence before he lashed out more, “Then you got my fucking permission to die, wife. I’m done.” 

He spares you no other glance as the door slammed behind him. You’re left trying to pick up the pieces, pick apart his words. Unable to hold back the flood of sorrow that seeped out, hysterical, airy cries as you heave. Pathetically quivering as you hugged yourself, slowly rocking back and forth atop the bed as it sets in. You think he means he’s done, he doesn’t want you, this is him washing his hands of you and your fate. 

You call for him, his name falling onto nothing, sniveling and blubbering like a mess. The air suffocates you, thick as it wrung you out. Dull skin prickling like a thousand needles inserting within you. Searing pain behind your brows and temples as it felt like your head was being crushed as your eyes went puffy and red.

Stuck in limbo staring at the wall. For months you’d been living under pitying glances, careful words, and locked up in an ivory tower of protection against the world. Even yourself. 

Your actions not your own as you move like a woman possessed, a ghost haunting the halls of its resting place. How you dressed for the colder weather outside the Base, discarding the disaster of splintered wood Uvogin left during his outburst. You moved with whimsical intent and glazed over eyes. In a trance as you padded along the eerily quiet halls then the main room, not a Spider in sight. Not that they could have stopped you, or even noticed as Uvogin’s screaming caused them to scatter. Pity as they had no choice but to listen as his deep voice echoed through every cranny spewing hurtful words.

Nobody stopped you as you opened the door to the outside. As you stand in the doorway contemplating stepping out, you realize it’s the first time you’ve been able to go somewhere without permission, with your own autonomy. With that you leave, crossing an invisible boundary that leaves you feeling lighter.

You walk, slow, stumbling as your lungs struggle to adapt. 

Unable to get far, you collapse unto a patch of grass, overlooking an expansive patch of trees overgrown with weeds and vines. 

On replay in your mind is the fight you’d just had with Uvogin, how his words sliced you deep. How he struggled with your pain, and how you spent too much time keeping your thoughts from him to ease his own. A selfish feat. But they were fearful, self deprecating thoughts that plagued you day in and out. The heaviness of accepting an eventual death that could be at any turn. The realization of your complacency and how the doubt Bates’s kidnapping of you set a spiraling turn of events. That you doubted your love feeling anxiety over his touch or telling him those three words- and how it made you selfish. More than ever. That you now saw Uvogin’s actions in the evil, manipulative light they were, and you did not care. Not anymore. His charismatic, strong nature over you was irrevocably his property, his wife, and this would have happened kidnapping or not. 

The cold, you feel yourself becoming one with it as your shallow breaths exhale fog around you. Your body feels numb as your pulse slows at an alarming pace. It’s comforting, serenely quiet before a high pitched noise sounds in your ears. The scenery is beautiful, you admire it as your eyelids droop, this was a good place to pass. To rest. The sky so blue, the sun high and bright, alluding to a perfect Summer day yet you shiver from the almost freezing temperature. 

You hear footsteps approaching and you hope it’s Uvo, that he’d get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, that he’d make it up to you. But it’s not and you almost laugh, maybe he really did mean he was done with you. 

“Chrollo?” You jolted back to reality at the sight of the Phantom Troupe leader, at first having thought the figure was imaginary. In all these years you never conversed much, Uvogin having said the passing of his wife permanently altered him. 

“Y/N, dear.” His tone is gentle. He approaches and you see the heavy coat and blanket he carries.

“Don’t.” You stammer, “I’ve made my choice, I ask you to respect it. Just make sure he’s okay once I die. I used to think he deserved it after everything, after taking me but- god,” You let out an insane sounding laugh, “I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t live like this. Coughing up my lungs, blood, always tired, unable to eat. My body is giving out on me.”

“When I lost her, I thought my life was ending.” Chrollo laments, closing in on you to wrap you in the warm fabric. He takes a seat beside you, “It did. I’m forever stuck, unable to move on. And truly? I am okay with it. But there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for any members of the Troupe so they never have to experience the magnitude of losing your wife.”

“I understand but-”

“I want you to tell me what it is you truly want. If you could have one wish.”

You respond instantly, not needing to think of your answer, “To be healthy and live the rest of my life with Uvo.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I believe you.” Chrollo sighed, “I wanted to respect your wishes but I had a feeling you were accepting the path of a martyr as all roads appeared exhausted. I found someone, a skilled doctor from another continent who has treated and helped patients with symptoms similar to or more extreme than yours. He likes the challenges of strange chronic illnesses.”

You straighten, an invisible weight feeling like it’d been lifted off of you. Your mind is short circuiting however, as if you’d been unplugged. You’d had to come to terms with your impending doom after a multitude of medical avenues were taken at no expense. But Chrollo’s outreach must have been intense, it must have taken ages to discover if you’re only now hearing of it. 

Hope rushed into you. A re-ignited fire burning bright within, making the idea of living another day plausible. Something you wanted. 

“Does Uvo know? Where is he? He left me I… Thought he was done. That he didn’t want me-”

“I sent Feitan to find him, I wanted to talk to you first. The doctor is already on his way. I did not want to waste time if you agreed. And if you truly wanted to rest for eternity, I’d have sent him back.”

“How.. But the Troupe- please don’t kill him after.”

“No, it would be a waste. He is miniscule as a threat to us, I actually thought him to be dead all these years. I knew him briefly in Meteor City, he would come to treat the children.”

“Ah.” Knowing the doctor wouldn’t die for helping you released you from any possible qualms you’d have had, “Chrollo?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate it, and I apologize for making you come out here.”

“Do not. Uvogin should be the one apologizing to you.” Chrollo stands with ease, then helps you stand, “I wouldn’t let him off easy, while we all deal with things in our own way, he’d have always regret walking out on you if it were the final time. We should never take time with our loved ones for granted. I am only glad I could find a possible solution for you.”

You’re swelling with appreciation, genuine happiness that you don’t think you’ve felt since the wedding. And before that? Prior to your initial pneumonia diagnosis almost 18 months ago. And definitely prior to Bates. With the burst of joy through your veins you want to throw your arms around Chrollo and thank him profusely some more, but that’s not something you’re physically capable of. Your legs can hardly hold you upwards as you two walk, him having to keep a firm grasp on your waist and arm in case. Slowly the path turned into the walkway for the Troupe’s base, the walking time taking practically double what it should have. But that’s okay, you’re too filled with ambition dreaming about having a normal functioning body once more even if Uvogin still wants to be done with you. 

Your teeth chatter, tips of your extremities a bright red from the chill. Unable to stop shaking even from the sudden heat inside. 

Chrollo helped you into your bed in Uvogin’s room, telling you he’ll have Machi swing by. The warmth of the room and the mound of blankets covering you, it’s suddenly easier to sleep than ever. For now you let yourself dream about good health, about treatments working, but still worry scraped the back of your mind when it came to your husband. Burning deep in your gut at the thought of your vows meaning nothing. As you begin to drift off–  

You hear a deep voice yelling laced with panic. Uvogin sounded ready to rage, to throw furniture across the room, you could picture the anger radiating from him through his tone. Because his words are hazy to you, and even as the door bursts open you’re unable to look. The feeling of large hands combing along your cool skin was the last thing you felt before falling into darkness. 

Uvogin shudders in relief as he watches your chest rise then fall. Your wind stained cheeks still pink as his thumb dragged along your face. He’s coming down from an intense adrenaline fueled high, his heart hammering in his chest ready to burst. How angry he’d been as Nobunaga followed hot on his trail attempting to put reason into him. And how Feitan appeared out of thin air with a look mixed with pity and contempt, saying Chrollo needed him for an emergency. How his stomach dropped filled with nauseating butterflies as his mind jumped to you, that him storming out left you vulnerable. That you fucking died somehow, as he’d let you think he was done. His selfishness towards his lack of control wracked him with guilt as he raced back to the Base. 

But instead Chrollo awaited him with a stern lecture even as he tried to push back yelling for you, body screaming for you to be against him. Yet Chrollo sat there amused over his idea to let Uvogin’s thoughts run rampant to a worse case scenario, sickeningly wanting him to feel the sorrow, the agony of losing you to get it through his thick head this wasn’t all about him. Then the leader informed him of the doctor on his way, giving one final effort to help you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Uvogin repeated as he pressed wet kisses to your skin, inhaling your scent like it was his own personal drug. His addiction to your frame in his as the bed creaked when he joined you under the blankets. 

How tiny you are compared to his monstrous form, precious and fragile as you subconsciously nuzzled into his warmth even in a half conscious slumber. He can feel all the cold that rattled you melt from your body due to his own heat, how you no longer shuddered as you fell further limp with relaxation. Little mewls escaping your lips. The jerk reaction of your leg twitching as you murmured something under your breath. Not quite actual words but always made his lips quirk. 

“Uvo?” You exhale with a smacking of your lips, a whimper as you attempt to shift. Arms and legs trembling as you stretch out waking from your quick douse of sleep, “You’re back?” 

Your delicate lashes flutter as you languidly look about. 

“Do… You still want me?” 

Oh his heart shattered from your frail words as you rubbed at your eyes, eyes glittering from the wetness in your lash line. Your bottom lip trembling that all Uvogin can do to show you his devotion is press a chaste kiss to you. 

“Always.” He grunted before deepening his lips against yours with force, slipping his tongue inside your mouth to taste and to claim. 

You gripped his bicep, head spinning from the suddenness of his stealing your breath. Now suffocating in his warmth, his scent, and his touch as you lose yourself in the pleasure running down your spine. Emotions all over. Anger at him for leaving, for yelling. Relief he’d come back. His hands roam underneath your clothes to lay ownership over your body, a heavy groan vibrating into you as he tugged you closer. If it were even possible. He’d tie you to him if he could, keep you glued to him, be inside you to be molded as one. 

As you become more aware, your feelings of betrayal towards him coming back, you push on his pectorals. And when he doesn’t budge you push again harder, words laced with venom shooting from your mouth. 

“I want you off me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, surprised as he pulled away. Someone so big with his bulking muscles looked like he wanted to shrivel up before he regained his senses, then attempted to entrap you in his arms.

“You don’t get to crawl into bed and kiss me after what you said. Would you have come back? Would you be this happy if Chrollo didn’t tell you about the doctor?”

“Baby.” He murmured miffed as you squirmed from his grasp, “I-”

“He found me outside, I was so cold and lost, going to just die there.” Uvogin’s face twists to something unreadable and devastating, but you continue, “He asked me what I wanted. If I would accept help from one last doctor, it would be okay if I said no. Uvo I’ve had to come to terms with all of this on my own, you’ve always been so convinced it would be okay. But don’t you understand we were out of options? We have limited time, all I wanted was to rest, to enjoy whatever I had left with you. Yet you storm off. I know it’s been taxing for you but I have tried so hard to stay alive.”

You don’t want to cry, you don’t want him to see you suffer more. You get up from the bed, seeing how his arm twinged as he held himself back from grabbing you, Uvogin was smart enough to understand times you needed autonomy to stick it in your head that you had a semblance of control.

“And I am going to do whatever it is this doctor wants to try, but if it doesn’t work you need to accept that I’m letting fate have its turn with me.” 

It felt like an eternity as you and Uvogin stared into the depths of the others eyes, watching every movement the large man could make. The apprehension in his body language as the gears turned in his head put you on edge. For he was stubborn. 

“Alright.”

Alright. He says it like it’s a defeat but offers a faint smile to follow it up. You sigh from the comfort it brought you, physically allowing your shoulders to relax from where you stood. The bed served as a thick barrier between you physically, but the expanse there mentally was like a cavern. 

“Uvo.” You sniffled, lips quivering as the necessity for him brought you to tears. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t as you remembered his words from earlier.

“C’mere baby.” 

“No.” 

He says nothing though you have ideas what he’s debating doing. 

“I can’t. Not after what you said. How willing you were to tell me to die, then walk away.”

From words spoken out of quick anger, Uvogin watched as the relationship cultivated between you two seemingly came crashing down. A thread wound so tight, pulling and pulling for months, finally snapped. And he knows he needs to patch it back up as quickly as possible, get you back into his orbit. 

He groans into his hands, pushing against his cheeks running his fingers against his skin down to his jaw, eyes moist. An incredulous look flashed across his face as his mouth opened then closed, then opened back up to speak but with no words to follow. 

A standstill, you wipe at your tears, “I think we need some time apart.”

“No. Absolutely not, you’re out your fuckin’ mind if you think I’m leaving your side.” From confusion to immediate discontent, his chest overflowing with annoyance at your stupidity thinking he’d give you space.

“But you did. Earlier.”

Uvogin had nothing to retort back for once as his brows pinched together. His thick fingers flexed as he focused on containing his growing temper he felt towards himself, the divide he put between you two. 

“And I fucked up. Got no excuse for my behavior besides I was pissed, I know I’m big and breaking shit around you isn’t the answer. Walking away won’t fix it but I had to leave before I did anything I’d regret. Couldn’t scare you further or risk hurting you. The thought of me being the reason you’re ever hurt makes me fucking ill, I’d rather break every bone in my body. I love you, and I’ll prove it to you every single day over and over if I gotta. But I’m not giving you space.”

It’s the most genuine apology that’s ever left his lips, has you warm inside and brain flitting to accept immediately. You see and hear the regret, it pulls at your heart making your stomach flutter with butterflies. He knew exactly what you needed to hear but this time around he said nothing he didn’t mean in an attempt to sway you back into his arms. He was a truthful, passionate man overall, only straying when absolutely necessary in keeping you happy with him. And he sees you perk up. Knows he’s got you.

“I’ll hold you to that.” It’s hard to hide the twinkle in your eyes, the involuntary upturn of your lips, or your reddened face because of him. How you know you’re giving in to him too easily and that you should make him work for it more. Get on his knees and beg, maybe do a few things while down there too. 

Because against better judgment you’re across the room and straddling the expanse of his large hips. Your lips desperately pressing into his uncaring for the way your lungs throbbed within you, not until you’re pulling back. A coughing fit comes over you, heavy and mucus filled, from the depths of you making you shudder. Uvogin holds you, petting your back as you hack against his chest. Burning. You felt so hot it was almost unbearable as the intake of any air was torturous for your frail body. 

He sighed into your hair, listening to your erratic pulse, “My sweetest girl. I got you. No matter what happens with this doctor, I’m here.” 

And you believe him, whether or not out of necessity. It doesn’t really matter anymore. 

You fall into a strange cycle with him the following days. Uvogin becomes your ever present, ever hovering gigantic shadow that moved precisely when you did. His intense gaze feels like a permanent fixture upon you, watching, assessing every move you made. From the food you consumed so that it was up to his standards of health, to taking over shaving your legs, to not letting a single person touch you besides himself… It brings you back to the first year you spent with him before the relationship blossomed, to how robotically he controlled your life. 

Pieces of you wanted to brush him off, punish him as exasperation boiled within you. Unable to push his hands away without a glare. His gigantic form pressing against you constantly.

But this was different, you had to believe so. He was scared to lose you. Bad enough you wandered outside with him knowing because he stormed off, almost leaving you to freeze to death. So day in and day out you're met with an onslaught of kisses and tender touches along with his over-protective barrage. In your soul you feel it though, the light at the end of the tunnel slowly approaching. Just what that light was- you weren’t certain.

-

Two weeks later on the dot does Chrollo arrive with the mysterious doctor in tow. You’re nervous sitting atop the table in the small infirmary in the Troupe’s basement. You remember the medicinal scent from the one other time you’d been down here and it makes you squirm, palms sweating as you fiddle with Uvogin’s fingers. . 

Uvogin had pulled a chair to be beside you, a large hand engulfing one of your own as the doctor carefully looked you over, taking vitals, and a few vials of blood. You’d pouted at the sight of the needles, begging Uvo for some help which only brought a wicked grin to his face. You knew he liked how hard you’d squeezed him as blood was drawn, making a face at the nauseous feeling it brought. He’s trying so hard to keep your spirits up and you daresay it’s working?

Things had been strange, more tense in some ways, Uvogin seemingly walking on eggshells around you. Scared to upset you. Overly doting if that were even possible for the clingy man who would choose to spend time with you over Troupe business. (Which took you far too long to realize how serious he was the first time he told you that.)

“I’m going to run these tests I need real quick. I need to be able to count out a few possibilities to confirm what I think our path is. My nen will speed up the process so sit tight.” The doctor, who was a short man with an overgrown beard, said offering a kind smile. 

“Thank you.” You take a sharp breath in and glance at Uvo. The door clicked close, leaving the two of you to sit in heavy silence.

You watched him slowly kiss your knuckles one at a time, expelling the unruly feelings of obsessive jealousy coursing through him. His overly possessive nature regardless of your health, hated the doctor’s hands on you. Was grounding himself as his lips dragged along your skin, “Feeling okay?” 

“Nervous. Hated describing everything I’ve dealt with, though I know he needed to hear it.” You sighed. The insurmountable effort to get out of bed each day was wearing you down, at this point you’re surprised you’re able to at all. Mornings begin with faint cries and whimpers as Uvo helps you up. Then you stay placated in the same spots, droning away at whatever is shoved in front of you. And night time was when your bones could relax and mind could have its reprieve from the constant synapses shooting aching pain through you. 

You didn’t speak much as butterflies spurred from Uvogin’s invasive touching, continuing to claim parts of you as his own as you wait. But there was a twisting past the sparks he made you feel, one dreadful and sickening. A wandering mind down alleyways of deceit telling yourself there’d be no magical cure or good news; that you’d spend your remaining time wasting away in suffering. 

Eventually the door creaked open and the doctor strode in, head stuck in a clipboard, “Alright.”

You’re sitting straight, electricity shooting through your spine. Uvo tenses next to you, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

The diagnosis was in the air of what you’d expected. Pneumonia from the time before Bates kidnapped you never properly healed. It expanded into more. Your respiratory tract was giving up and the rest  of your body did too. It wouldn’t be long before you’d begin coughing up blood per the doctor, the statement shaking you to your core.

“I see antibiotics have not done much, which are always the first line of defense. Which I believe a more aggressive track should be taken.” 

“And what is that?” Uvogin asked in a low voice, fringing on threatening. 

“I would like to put you into a medical nen induced coma.” 

“No.” 

“Uvo.” You grab his wrist as a silent plea, “He’d know better than us on treatment.” 

Your insistence has Uvogin backing down, as in his body physically relaxing. His muscles twitch in the arm you grasp. 

“I have seen and treated 3 cases of hemoptysis or pneumonia successfully this way. And have studied cases of past colleagues too. We are in the unique situation where my nen would be the driving factor rather than what a normal hospital would use. Your body would be given complete rest, no need to fight each day to walk or eat, or even rest. It would give your white blood cells the ability to fight this intense infection. This has turned a lung infection into something chronic, this is the only route that makes sense to take.”

“How long will the coma be for?” You race to articulate your swarming thoughts. They’re all jumbled due to your lack of medical understanding and the fear seeping in. But between you and Uvo, you need to be calm so he is. Because when it came to you, any sense went out the window. 

“Two weeks. But I would be able to tell from test results if you’d need longer. Then afterwards for 3 months there’d be a strict regimen of pills.”

You take a deep breath in, “And if this doesn’t work?”

The doctor gives you a solemn look, which you understand, “Then we’d want to make you comfortable.” 

It was a scary thought. Going to sleep and not waking up one day. One that you’d rather prefer than a malicious death, like torture at the hands of Feitan. While you feel confidence in this doctor, in that you’d wake up from the nen coma, it’s what comes after that makes bile churn in your gut. 

The doctor wants to put you into the coma pronto. 

Uvogin wants to argue, you see the fire in his eyes, the desperation on his face. The silent anger vibrates in him as he wants to scoop you, his wife, up and leave. His silent pent up feelings of failing you coming to the surface. 

He holds your hand as your body goes limp. The pink glow of the doctor’s nen cocooning you inside, not allowing Uvogin to touch you. He hates it. 

The days go painfully slow. 

An hour felt like twenty. 

The first week felt like a year. 

Uvogin was more combative than normal, aggressive with his words when he used them. Abnormally quiet but everyone knew to steer clear of him. Leaving your side was an absolute no-go for the large man, needing to watch every delicate breath to prove to himself you’re still breathing. 

If someone like Uvogin was truly capable of true self reflection- he probably would have during this time. Sure, his mind occasionally filled him with doubt, if his life choices were some fateful cause of your doom. Much like his thoughts had when Bates had you, at least this time he had his eyes on you. 

When the second week finally came to an end and the doctor confirmed it was safe for you to be woken up, that your vitals showed drastic improvement, Uvogin was elated. 

How endearing it was as you whined, eyes fluttering as you struggled to wake. Limbs heavy as you reach in the air through blurry vision, attempting to claw at your face. How you mewled for him relishing in his suffocating touch, fueling his protective instincts more than ever. 

You properly wake to lips against your own, stealing your breath before moving to your jaw. Through heavy eyelids you can make out the side of Uvo’s head, then threading a hand through his wild locks. You can feel his burning lips kissing, the nipping down your neck as he sucks the delicate skin between his teeth to leave marks. A fast sigh of pain leaves your lips as a jolt inside you grounds you to your surroundings. 

“Uvo?” You croak, voice betraying you as it doesn’t sound like your own. Throat dry and hoarse, it hurts to speak so you don’t. 

He doesn’t respond to you right away, Uvogin groping and squeezing at your skin. Swirling heat envelopes your weary limbs, sweat pooling along your hairline as your core goes flush with molten liquid. Sleep still dragged on your eyelids. You could barely move your own legs from the exhaustion and traces of medical nen pricking along you.  

Your legs move, Uvogin spreading your thighs wide. The bed creaks as his weight presses on it. His body exudes searing heat. Burning you as you squirm and mewl about the heavy fog weighing down on you. Chest heavy, heart hammering so much that you hear the blood pounding in your ears as you swallow in anticipation. 

The feeling of your nightgown hiking makes you gasp. Your panties peeled off your form felt like jabs of knives down your numbly tingling skin. 

Uvogin’s thick cockhead prods at your folds, “Fuckin’ hell your soaked. Thinkin’ of me in your dreams?” He chuckled cruelly. 

You whimper as a moistness between your legs fill you with shame, his words only prodding it further. 

Mind lit in static fire, blue and orange with smoke paralyzing your brain as your hips jerk to meet his involuntarily. Body blistering from head to toe, confusing lust settled in you as you feel a pained stretch through your smoky mind. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” Uvogin grunted as he sank his cock further. 

He’s splitting you apart. You cry out, a ghastly moan as your walls spasm around the large length forcing its way in. Dazed and overwhelmed. Impossibly full before you could properly register you were even alive. That you’d been in a coma for two weeks. That now, your poor cunt was shoved full of cock and your stomach expanded as Uvogin grunted with each vicious inch he pushed further in. Fingers seized at his biceps nails drawing blood, toes curled as your legs trembled with feathery pleasure whilst all you felt was unnatural. 

You’re being pushed and pulled every which way, caught in a dangerous undercurrent that shows no reprieve to let you swim upwards. Extraordinary pleasure blossoms within you, petal by petal unfolding and its bright colors glimmering in ecstasy. Ecstasy that choked you up to where you couldn’t breathe as tears brimmed at your eyes, desperately trying to gain senses.

Uvogin began to fuck into you slow, uncaring for the lack of prep, primarily driven by his insatiable want for you. Driven by the fear over your health and his lack of control. That shoving his cock into you to feel your poor gummy walls squeeze the life out of him, settled his churning emotions. That the incessant burn of anxiety in his chest was being snuffed out, and all because the electric pleasure of being one with you brought him. 

“Uvo!” You cry so sweetly for him, all hoarse and face filled with confusion. He was your lifeline in the storm. A storm he brought upon you. One that lifted you and dropped you as his cock hit your most sensitive spots, nestling up against your cervix only to pull out and thrust in again. 

Your lust filled whimpers only grow as Uvogin manhandled your thighs further apart, resting them on his biceps as he towered over you. His thick muscles corded with each push to the hilt of his hips flush to yours. Smacking of skin filled the dry air, your pain still twisting with rapture as his name repeats off your tongue. 

He leans to capture your lips, an inhuman-like groan from the back of his throat tickles your ears. It was one of desperation, higher pitched and letting you see him with shields down. His gigantic body practically trembles upon you as he picks the pace up, pistoning his hard cock over and over, and over. Mind blurring. Squirt dripples from your abused hole as you reach your high through a giant wave of pleasure. 

“Missed you.” Is all he moans. Again. And again.

Your arms move around his neck, legs attempting to wrap around his expansive waist. You can’t imagine him being any further, needing him closer, even closer than the part of him inside you. Because as you blink furiously, registering in your post orgasm haze, about the medical nen coma. That you don’t know the state of your health or the day of the month it is, instead all you can feel is your husband’s cock burying deeper into your guts like he’d never get to again. Overstimulated and too full, Uvogin roared as he came feeling your perfect velvet walls so tight, his vision whiting out. The way the bulge in your lower tummy inflated, the way he re-hardened in seconds to empty you to slam back in. A silent scream all that escapes you.

Fucking through each other’s highs there was nothing you could have ever wanted more than him like this. Maybe you would have wanted him to wake you properly to meet with the doctor to know whether or not you’d live or die. But you’d take this heated moment as you lose your mind as he fucks your sensitive nerves and toys with your clit, murmuring loving yet intense proclamations into your ears. 

Blissed-out face. Uvogin’s eyes burning into yours. Sweat falling from your foreheads. Cries of love. Heavy breaths. Electricity swarms you two, bodies lit in flames of passion and his possession over your body, mind and soul. As he comes again, letting your tiny cunt greedily take his warm seed, your chest sores and a pathetic smile tugs at your lips. You’re babbling incoherent words. Letting him grope you and kiss, and nip and play with your most sensitive areas even as you cried for a reprieve. His come leaked from your folds, an intense river of the warm seed trickling down to the bed, leaving you oh so empty from it and the aftermath of losing his cock. You cried for him to go back inside, that you needed to feel close to him to be one with him. Your hips bucked and jerked as tears fell, pitiful pouts before he laughed.

He sucks and licks along your cunt, slurping your juices and his own seed. Playing with your sensitive and enlarged clit as tingles shoot along your core, twisting so good in your belly. Sweet salvation as you sigh in joy and blurry vision from the pleasure his mouth gave you, collapsing further into the pillows and opening your legs further to welcome him. Fingers threading into his hair to keep his head in the very spot you needed. 

A whimper bubbles from you as he kisses up your aching slit, before leisurely dragging along your sensitive bud that feels just right. Furiously working you to another climax as he suckled your clit, a finger stroking inwards of your thigh. He pads along your sopping entrance and you shudder, watching as two fingers sink into your cunt. Two of his large fingers, which one alone bigger than most cocks. Stretching you out so good as he pumped and curled to your liking, stimulating all the spots that he knew made you go dumb. Uvogin thinks he wants to watch you lose yourself to him but he knows this is a fine line he’s on already, taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state. But he can’t help himself! You’re just so cute and he’d been so scared the last two weeks. He needed to have his cock deep in your little pussy, the one he’d been so good not to fuck whilst you were in your coma. He wonders if you’d let him fill you again as he jerked his hips against the mattress as his cock began to harden again. 

You’re grinding against him, he smirks before latching back onto your clit and listens to every vibrato of each moan. Of each cry and beg as your slick rushes from your tight cunt, ecstasy blossoming inside you once more as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from you, him allowing your roadmap of pleasure to lead back to the thick tip of his cock prodding at your slit once more. You smile, so stupidly with a wet face and flushed skin, hardened nipples and asking for him to fill you up again. 

And he does.

Until you're leaking of him. Barely conscious and not able to even moan in pleasure. Until you're trembling and neither your arms or legs can support you anymore. Till he’s shooting blanks and still nudging himself back into you even as you drift off.

Uvogin ruts into your barely there form, pulling you to the edge of the bed so he can have a better view. His come dried and caked onto your skin. Hair a mess. Face swelled red and dried with streaked tears. He grunts as his feet garner support from the ground so he can pound back into you without worrying about the mattress holding him. He doesn’t care that you aren’t crying his name or begging for more. All he sees and cares about how you still squirt little streaks of juices from your hole and across his abdomen. How your body is so obsessed with his touch that he can still make you orgasm even as you lull in and out of sleep. Your clit is so engorged, pink and sensitive but he can’t stop playing with it, rolling it between his calloused fingers as you squirm. Or sucking on it so harshly you passed out earlier, only awoken by him tapping your cheek, pulling the back of your head up so you could watch his cock morph your insides to him as you barely understood what was going on before spasming and blanking out again. Staring into your blank eyes, mouth open in an O-shape, he tells you how much he loves you, and that everything is going to be okay. And of course you believe him, he’s your husband after all, the only man you’d let use you like a fuckdoll in your sickly state to the point your tummy inflated from his thick spurts of come.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll come back to the reality of your situation. Tomorrow. For now you’ll bask in your husband as an escape.

-

It’s the next day, your legs and core are so sore, when you meet with the doctor. It felt like the pink blush was permanently painted along your cheeks as he checked over your vitals. Uvogin watched you smug, one hand tracing circles along the low of your back. The memories of yesterday are prevalent in the air, the thought of it makes you go flush. Uvogin knows the effects he has on you even in such a serious moment that you almost want to smack him for it.

This was it. The moment of truth. 

You're fluttering with anxious nerves, stomach churning and you’re eyeing the garbage can for the chance you puke. Thundering in your ears as your heart hammers and blood rushes. It’s like your surroundings were null as you carefully watch the doctor’s every move, listen to his every breath and word to analyze what they mean. Looking for any sign in his body language that you’re fucked, that it failed and you’re officially out of options. 

But it doesn’t come. He smiled warmly between you and Uvogin. 

“As I expected, my nen coma was a success.” 

As he expected? Had he seemed so certain two weeks ago? You didn’t think so, but apparently he believed off of past patients that you’d recover?

He continues, “Your body was able to replenish itself not having to strain itself the last two weeks. You’re out of the danger zones to where traditional medicine will be able to bring you back to around 90% of your strength. While it’ll never be completely perfect, permanent damage has been done, you’ll no longer be in chronic pain day in or day out, or worrying about coughing up blood. You can go up stairs without stopping and go for walks without needing someone’s assistance. You’ll have energy, an appetite, no longer with permanent symptoms of pneumonia, and excitement towards the future once more.” 

You immediately look to Uvogin, who for once looks pleasantly surprised. His eyes glitter as he meets your gaze, and he smiles. It’s genuine, not forced like everything had been at one point to keep your spirits high. Immediately, you fling your arms around him, tears prick at your lash line. Hugging him as tight as you can knowing you couldn’t hurt him, while his boisterous laugh is like music to your ears. 

The doctor sends Uvogin out of the room to fetch food, saying he’ll go over your medications now. 

For a second you stutter, your whole body short circuiting as you don’t want Uvo to leave. But his encouraging nod your way before he closes the door helps you relax. 

You quickly discover why the doctor wanted time alone with you.

“It’s fairly simple, these two bottles of faint coral-pink pills are for the next two months. They’re high dosages which is why they’re rather large pills, do your best to get them down. Take them with food as well.” 

The doctor grabs two other bottles, your stomach drops as you feel a change in the air. 

“Now, I’ll keep it simple. I can’t tell if you’re happy, what kind of doctor would I be if I helped you recover just to keep you with a dangerous band of criminals?” He laments, “The pale yellow pills are for the final month, they’ll cement the work of my nen and the pink pills. You should not regress for the rest of your life, they’re strong and will kill off any remaining infections or diseases. You’ll be lethargic so I recommend taking them at night.”

“What about the blue ones?” You ask, stomach feeling like it was in the pits of hell the way it violently churned within you. 

“They’ll undo mine and the pill’s work and will allow you to pass peacefully. Take them for a final way out.”

“You- How could…” 

“I’ll write down directions, yellow pills if you feel like the pink ones worked. Blue is needed if more aggressive medications are needed after the two months. At your discretion, who would argue?”

For a split second you wonder if this was a test. But you just smile at him, “I really appreciate your help. It’ll be nice to breathe normally again.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

It took all your strength to not focus too intently on the blue pills as the doctor explained to Uvogin what they meant. He was completely bought in by the ‘deceiving’ explanations, no inkling present that one of the bottles could kill you.

You don’t want to think about it, not too much. You want to think about having autonomy once more. To breathe without hacking, to walk without needing help, to eat without getting sick. 

Month one- you take the bottle of pink pills. Each day, you aren’t sure if you’re truly feeling better or if it’s a placebo. A week of getting out of bed without tears or an aching body, is when you realize recovery was possible. You begin to enjoy full meals with Uvo, seeing the delight on his face when you bake for the first time in over a year. You two laugh at the mess, how half the pastries were burnt but it’s progress as you salvage the edible parts to feed the other. Your deep, nasty cough still surfaced each day. Less and less mucus each time. You’d sleep through the nights, once again becoming the one to wake up first like a waiting puppy for its owner, how expectantly you stared down at him nudging him to wake. How for the first time you were able to initiate sex with no worries of getting sick or him hurting you, as you took his swollen lengthy cock into your mouth. Him standing over you as he lets you explore him with your tongue. He’s so heavy and you giggle, warm and needy as you suck and kiss, lick along his thick veins to the point he can’t handle your teasing. You cry as he fucks your face but they’re good tears, and he watches as you swallow and then open your mouth to show him. Uvogin never leaves your side but for once you feel joy towards it, not frustration. 

Month two- you still take the pink pills and the improvement is astronomical. You giggle like a maniac as you skip about the fluttering grass outside the Troupe’s Base. Uvo watches you spin about before falling to the ground in exhaustion, he smiles as you bask in the sun. You’re breathing heavily but no coughing fits come. You’re bright red and clearly tired but you can still get up to keep going. He’s relaxing under a tree and you’re running around like your life depended on it, he thinks you’re just so damn cute. This is the month you return to more hobbies, become more talkative and want to watch more shows or finally give him back snarky remarks. Uvogin almost dies from the elation, the lightness of his chest at how life returned to you, how you were you. Not the husk of a person stolen away because of disease, you’re happy. Right? 

It’s now month three- you stare between the two bottles. ‘Take the blue pills for a way out.’ The doctor's words reverberate, you’d ignored them for the first two months not wanting to worry about it. Not wanting to get in your head before making a decision. 

You sit in the main room of the Troupe’s Base, Chrollo had called a last minute meeting the night before so Uvogin had to cart you out of bed, ruining a rather good dream. You’re staring at the medications on the counter, then eyes flickering to the clock. Today was the first day you needed to make your choice, the one you’d avoided for so long. 

Sickness numbed your mind at times, while at others allowed you to see things for what they really were. You think. You’d been ready to die, to be released from chronic neverending pain, but now having life back changed your mind. Little things you’d always taken more granted were now things you would never want to lose again. Maybe you’d lost yourself a long time ago, maybe you were always a horrible person to love Uvogin, but as you recount all these years with him you don’t want to lose him. Or the way he loved you. The doubt you’d had towards him after Bates was finally washing away, you walled all the incessant ringing you’d have in your ears off. No more were you susceptible to the common sense you had at the start of your captivity to always hang onto the truth about him. You walled it all off, brick by brick in your head. 

Maybe a part of you wants him to suffer. Wondering how he’d react when you suddenly fell sick again and passed, would he be ruined? Would he move on? You figured he’d do something dumb, find a way to get himself killed more likely. So you walled those feelings off too. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” You smile as Uvo walks out from one of the halls. You mewl into his large hand as he cups the side of your head before moving so you could lean back into him. He’s so large over you that when you lean back on the side of your chair that you only reach up to his thighs. 

You crane your neck to look up, “Everything okay?”

“Yep. Nothin’ for you to worry about.” He looks at the bottles on the table, “So, what ones you thinking? Can you mix them depending on how you feel each day?”

“Uh, don’t know about that, doubt it? I’ve been trying to recount everything to make a decision. Because I mean… I can’t complain, I feel good.” 

“Right.” Uvogin held a hand for you to take, then he grabbed your waist to help you up, “Up to you then, babe.”

The feeling of his thumb circling against your clothed side and the suddenness of standing makes your head spin. In a moment of striking clarity you reach to grab one of the bottles, certain in your choice.

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.” You grin up at him, squeezing his hand as you lace your fingers with his. 

The bottle of yellow pills rattles in your hand as you two make your way to his room. The blue pills sit forgotten, almost screaming out for you to change your mind, to think things through again. That you needed to at least leave cracks in the wall you created to protect yourself, just in case. But you didn’t. You coated it in shiny protective layers of something in your mind, causing your chest to surge in feelings of love and all things gooey and over the top. Just stars left shining in your eyes as you look at him. 

The month of taking the yellow pills passed, they made you lethargic like the doctor said they would, causing you to get mass amounts of sleep. But he was right, they made you feel good as new. 

You sit cross legged in the townhome, leafing through pages of your book as Uvogin shuffles around in the kitchen. He’d insisted that he’d make dinner tonight, which you told him takeout would be just as satisfactory (and probably better anyways). 

After multiple interventions on your part you two finally sit connected at the hip as your weekly show plays, food in hand. When Uvo finishes he tucks an arm around your waist pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your hair. A heaviness in your chest suddenly becomes apparent, each time you swallow the food seeming dry and tasteless. 

“Uvo?”

He sensed the tension in your small body immediately, but didn’t say anything as he knew you were still adjusting. While physically you could handle a lot from long walks or eating actual food, mentally you were still catching up with the changes. 

“What’s up?”

“Can I tell you something?” You ask meekly. Your fingers feel sweaty, you have to set the food down on the coffee table immediately. A storm rages within you. One side telling you to spill, the other telling you to let this be a secret you die with.

“Anything.” 

“The- You remember the blue pills I could have taken instead of the yellow ones?” More screaming within you to stop. Like hands were physically trying to drag your voice back down, that this would only anger him. 

“I do.” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, focusing on your hands in your lap. You’re more aware of his hulking presence holding you to him than before. You’re more aware of his steady heartbeat and breaths as you wait for them to speed up, to show his anger.

“You can’t get mad.”

“Mad ‘bout what? You end up taking any?” 

Your heart is hammering in your ribs, like it’d burst out ripping you and all your biggest fears into the open. It’s giving you away, you know it. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating you until you took a deep breath in. No lies. You were given a new chance at life and you would not keep this from him. Couldn’t. It was best it came from you rather than someone else somehow down the road. 

“They would have actually killed me.” 

Silence. 

“Uvo?”

“Yeah?”

He’s not reacting how you thought he would. He starts to fucking laugh and you’re staring at him like a deer in headlights. It makes feelings of annoyance bubble in your chest, anger as your nose flares and your pupils dilate. 

“Why… Are you laughing? It’s not funny.”

“Course it’s not, babe, but I already knew.” He shrugged. 

“How?”

“Shalnark. Guess he got curious what was in them after you said you wouldn’t be taking them. I said he could have ‘em to do whatever that tech freak does.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Came to me and told me they would have regressed your pneumonia and caused you to pass in your sleep eventually. So I assumed you were aware of that, the doctor probably lied to me, and you made the choice to live. Of course I had to wonder what if you didn’t know and it was all luck you didn’t take them, now I know it wasn’t.”

“That’s why you didn’t say anything?”

“Yep, figured if you didn’t know you’d have flipped shit.”

“Why are you acting so calm? You’re freaking me out.”

Uvogin forced you to look up at him. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “Because you chose me. You had all that time to think about it so you must have known for certain you wanted to be with me.�� He grinned deviously, “Course I’m a little irked but, I do deserve some shit still for kidnapping you. I’d say it all worked out though, huh?” 

You playfully smacked his chest, unable to hide your grin, “You know I looked at the blue pills as a way out if the medical coma and pink pills didn’t work. That if I was back in pain, I couldn’t believe it almost, I was ready to suffer again. Not once did I want to use them because I wanted to be away from you. Sure I wondered if you deserved to suffer for the shit you do, but I love you. I wanted help from that doctor because I want more time with you, I could have said no to Chrollo three months ago. So I knew what my choice was from the start. You’re all I wanted those months with Bates, I had time to think, unravel my feelings yet you’re it for me Uvo. Guess you’ll get your karma in another way.”

“So fucking cute, wife.” His lips crushed onto yours again, his tongue shoving inside claiming you. He pulled you to straddle his lap before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “You had me believing in that stupid karma shit, you know that? Glad you’re finally passed me being a mass murderer and all that.”

“Don’t say it like that!” You groan, shame prickling the back of your neck making you go warm. The wall is still strong in your mind, keeping you happy, keeping you from fully feeling that shame that should have made you go comatose. Instead it allowed you to kiss him with all your might, tugging at the shirt he wore. A kiss turned to desperate chaos as teeth gnashed and lips fought for dominance, saliva shared and dripping as lewd moans began to fill the air. Carnal touches. Salacious grunts. Swirling hot sex filled air controlled you two as clothes thrown discarded and forgotten, unneeded. 

You’d made your decision. How much of it was really your own, was left up for discussion. You’d never know how much of this you really wanted, or if you’d fallen in love out of necessity for survival. Or if Uvogin really was who you were meant to be with. But all you knew as Uvogin forced his swollen cock passed your tight unprepped walls, you’d never want anything more than this man as you cried. You who practically passed out as he breached your aching cunt and to the hilt of your cervix, outlining your tummy and pushing to stretch you even more as he yelled out for you. This man who loved you furiously and would destroy the whole world for you if you asked. And that- wasn’t that the grandest declaration of one’s feelings you could receive? 

Right? 

authors note on an alternate ending— i view it as if reader were to die than this would head towards canon where uvogin dies by kurapika’s hand and he’s all content because he gets to see you again :))

[libraryofloveletters]

Hallways Hold Our Secrets

Jack Grealish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader is rodri's sister, secret relationships, jack is sooo nervous, they're terrible at hiding their relationship, big brother!rodri, awkward family dinners, alcohol and the consumption of, some cheekiness from jack and some brotherly teasing from rodri.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: I cannot believe it took me so long to write jack. also shout out to pooks for the basis of this idea + this gif has literally nothing to do with the fic. jack is just sexy that's all (also look at my other mans in the corner even tho I be wanting to beat him up sometimes)

---

The message pops up on the top right corner of your laptop, you're certain it appeared on your phone as well but you're hoping he doesn't notice it.

Can I call you?

You click on it, typing back a response; I'm with him. Can it wait?

His reply comes just as fast; Just for a minute, I wanna hear your voice.

You shut the laptop, leaving it on the kitchen table. "Just gonna borrow this for a minute," you tell your brother as you grab your phone off the counter; he had been using it to get the recipe for dinner tonight since his was charging.

Rodri smiles, nodding. "Sure."

You disappeared around the corner, clicking the contact that frequents your call log. It barely got rang twice before he answered.

"Hi love," he sighs, as if he had dropped down to the couch. You smiled to yourself, leaning on the wall in the hallway. "Hi you."

"I miss you," he says, the words tugging on your heart. You could imagine the pout on his lips; coincidentally, also his favourite pose when he takes selfies.

"I saw you today, Jack." Your response comes out as a whisper, not wanting to be overheard.

"I know, is a man not allowed to miss his girlfriend?"

Once again, his words bring a smile to your face; girlfriend. That's what you were, even if it was a secret.

"You are," you smile.

Jack sighs, picking at his cuticle before he speaks again. "I wish you were here, I could use the company."

Man City had faced their first loss in a while. After being on a winning streak and the return from the treble winning season, this one hit them especially hard. To lose at home was even worse, it dug into them, rightfully so.

All of the boys were in a bad mood, Pep digging into them about what went wrong didn't help either. You had waited outside of the locker room in hopes of catching a quick moment with your boyfriend but he walked out with your brother who was more than ready to leave.

"Hermanita! Come taste this!" Rodri shouts from the kitchen and you sigh. "Me too, but another time, okay? I have to go."

"Yeah," Jack sighs, "I love you."

"Me too," you smile, hanging up before slipping your phone into your pocket. You walked into the kitchen, a smile on your face as your brother held the spoon out to you.

You tasted it, nodding. "It's good, needs a bit more pepper though."

"I thought so too," he nods in agreement, adding the rest of the chopped peppers that were sitting on the counter. "Where'd you go?" He asks as you return to your spot at the kitchen table.

"Needed my hair tie," you fib and his brows furrow. Your heart pounds in your chest when you notice his look, praying he didn't over hear your conversation. At the moment, it didn't occur to you that you had taken your phone with you and your lie made no sense.

"Your hair is untied."

"Yeah," you nod, "I couldn't find one."

Rodri nods, dismissing your words as he goes back to dinner, trying to finish up the last of it. Eventually he joins you at the table, your brother sits across from you, picking at the leftover pasta on his plate. "So, are you seeing someone ?"

You freeze, nearly choking on your juice. "What? Why would you ask me that?" You rubbed at your chest, looking at him with what you were certain was a confused look.

He shrugs, stabbing a piece of pasta. "You're 25, done university.. just seems like time to move on."

Your brother's displeasure with the last guy you dated was not something that he hid very well. He was a grade A douchebag, snotty and stuck up; when you look back, you wondered how you put up with all of his nonsense. You two dated from your second year of university up until right before your graduation.

During your last semester of university, you had taken a week off and came down to visit your big brother in Manchester. The break up was getting to you and it seems like everything around was a constant reminder of your wretched ex.

Rodri had taken you along with him to one of their home games, having you watch what your big brother does up from the stands as if you were 12 again, and afterwards you had gone down to find him and meet some of his teammates.

That was the first time you met Jack.

The two of you clicked instantly; a match made in heaven. From your personalities, to your sense of humour, to the way you dress and down to the way you texted were identical. You suited each other to a T.

It seems you two figured out as much as you went from not knowing each other to speaking every single day after you left Manchester.

Your older brother was aware that you and Jack were friends, but he didn't think much of it. He saw that you got along with quite a few of his teammates, which made him very happy.

What he didn't know was that you and Jack were more than friends.

Jack had come down to visit you during one of your off weeks. He didn't mention it to Rodri nor did you. The two of you decided that it would be your little secret until you've finished university and you can decide what to do from there.

It was just easier this way, there weren't any complications or strings attached if you decided to split up at the end of your semester.

You didn't realize that you'd find yourself in Manchester nor did you expect to fall in love with the midfielder so quickly.

Nodding, you clear your throat. "I will."

"I'm just happy you're over him, he was shit." Rodri says, clearing the table. You can't help the laugh that you let out, leaning back in your chair.

---

Match day; your favourite day.

The Etihad was full from top to bottom, the crowd cheering their names, hoping that the team brings home a win. To nobody's surprise, they managed to bring home a win and four points.

You had gone down, waiting for your brother as they got cleaned up after the game. You were taking a photo of their treble wall, all the photos of them smiling and celebrating with their trophies.

The familiar scent of his cologne makes you smile, you can hear his footsteps and you figure he'll appear next to you, not pinch your hip and scare you.

"Dude!" You jumped, swatting his hands away. Your boyfriend smiles, his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

"It's just me, relax," he whispers, chin on your shoulder. As the words leave his mouth, you melt against him; you can feel the warmth from his body, the mix of cologne trying to mask the sweat from 90 minutes on a pitch usually disgusted you but with him, it was tolerable.

Jack spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. "What are you doing out here?"

"Taking a picture," you lifted your phone to show him, flipping the camera to take a photo of the two of you. Both you and Jack make his favourite face; that duck face and then another one with you two smiling, and one more of him kissing your cheek.

His fingers mindlessly drumming against your stomach, looking at the photos on the wall when you snapped back to reality.

You weren't in your little bubble of safety with him; anyone could see you, your brother could see you.

It seemed unreal that you were 25 and still sneaking around, hiding your relationship from your big brother but it would be easier if you weren't dating his teammate.

You stepped away from Jack abruptly, the man's brows pulled together and there's a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Someone could see us," you step further away, creating some distance from the two of you. Jack looked even more puzzled than he did before.

"And that would be the worst thing because.." He trails off, looking at you. You roll your eyes, leaning on the wall as you look at him. "You know, 10 would look much better on you." He nods towards your jersey, there's a cheeky grin on his face and you roll your eyes yet again.

You had worn your brother's jersey, as you do most match days. "16 looks perfectly fine on me, thank you for your input."

"You'd look sexy in a plastic bag, babe. Just saying 10 would be better on you."

You don't get a chance to answer, your big brother comes around the corner. His hand rests on Jack's shoulder, patting it firmly before slinging it over his shoulder.

"What's going on here?" Rodri looks between you two and you shake your head. "Just saying hello to your sister," Jack says, smiling at his teammate.

Rodri hums, nodding as he glances between the two of you. "Did y/n ever tell you about that chocolate cake she makes?"

"No," Jack shook his head, "I don't think so." - A total lie. Jack has had that cake so many times before and you had even gone as far as giving him the recipe, which was a secret.

"Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? I'm sure y/n won't mind making it, would you?"

You shrug, "yeah I don't mind, but I'm sure Jack has plans."

You glance between your brother and boyfriend, wondering what the sudden dinner invite was about. It wasn't that Rodri and Jack didn't get along, because they did. It just struck you as odd because it's not one of the guys Rodri typically hangs out with outside of work related events.

"I don't," Jack smiles at you. "I'd be more than happy to come over. Should I bring something?"

"No, man. Don't worry about that, come over for 8."

"Sounds good," Jack nods, smiling as he walks off.

You look at your brother, arms folded over your chest. Your eyes narrowed on the man, trying to figure out his motive. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Rodri asks and you nod towards Jack. "The dinner invite."

"I can't invite my teammate to dinner?" Rodri's brows furrow, looking back at you.

"You can. Just find it odd, considering that you and Jack aren't close like that."

He shrugs, "just felt like having some company over. Other than your ugly face of course." There's a smile on his face as he looks at you. You pinch his side, the man pulling you into a headlock as you two walk down the hallway.

---

Shirt covered in butter, flour and eggs and you had finally put the cake into the oven to bake. Your phone buzzes once on the counter as you tidy up. It buzzes again, then again and again.

Finally, you set the rag down and walk over to check who it was.

From Jack: Babe!!!

From Jack: I'm freaking out bro

From Jack: I don't know what to wear

From Jack: *1 Image Attachment* Should I wear this??

The series of messages left you confused, as did his outfit choice. Jack had sent you a photo of the ugliest Gucci shirt he owned and there were quite a few of them in his closet.

To Jack: That is the ugliest shirt I've seen in my life.

From Jack: That's fucking rude

To Jack: Also why are you freaking out?? It's just dinner.

From Jack: Can you please just come help me??

To Jack: I have a cake in the oven

From Jack: So ??? Please come. It's an emergency.

You sigh, walking down the hallway to your brother's room. You knocked, waiting for them to answer before you peek into the room.

"I ran out of sugar and I need it for the icing. I'm gonna run to the store, can you keep an eye on the cake? It's got a timer running so just take it out when it's done."

Rodri nods, trying to make up his bed "Sure, don't be too long. It's almost 7."

"Yeah, I'll be back soon." You picked up his car keys off of his dresser. "Love you!" You called as you walked out of the room.

"Drive safely!" He shouts back and the front door slams shut.

It was a 15 minute drive to Jack's place, the elevator ride up felt like longer and you tumbled through your purse to find the key Jack had given you to his apartment.

"Where are you?!" You shout, setting your bag on the table, kicking your shoes off.

"Bathroom!" He calls back and you find your way to the bathroom. Jack's back was to you, shirtless and quite tanned for a guy living in Manchester. You find yourself leaning on the wall, watching as your boyfriend tumbled through one of the drawers for something.

Jack chuckles, "I can feel you staring."

"So?" you smiled at him when he turned to face you. "I can't stay long, so what do you need help with?"

He walks over to you, his arm looping around your waist. "I can't kiss my girl hello?" He asks, leaning into you. His cologne overpowering any other scent, the familiar smell made your head spin.

"You can," you smiled, holding his jaw gently as you kissed him. "Okay come on though, let's pick something out." You hold his hand, pulling him back to his bedroom.

Jack sits on the bed, watching as you search through the closet for something for him to wear. "I really don't understand why you're so freaked out for dinner. You've had dinner with Rodri before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but at work stuff. This is different."

"How so?" You set a few choices on the bed. "I'm sure he's gonna be in sweats, Jack. No need to stress yourself out."

Jack looks over at you, "yeah but he invited me to his house. You're my girlfriend and he's your big brother. Even if he doesn't know, I want to make a good impression."

"That's sweet, now put this on." You smiled, handing him a forest green short sleeved button up you pulled out of the depths of his closet.

While Jack was getting ready, you searched through the drawers for a shopping bag you were sure he had left around. When you found out, you tumbled through his cupboards for a bag of icing sugar you knew you had left there and then you opened the fridge to get the butter.

"What are you doing?" Jack asks, appearing in the doorway.

"I told Rodri I was going to the store, I can't go back empty handed."

"So that means you need to take my butter?" He looks at you confused, fixing the sleeves of his shirt. You nodded, smiling at him as you walked to the door.

Jack follows behind you, watching as you put your shoes back on. "I've seen your bank account, you can afford to buy another tub of butter," you patted his chest, giving him a quick kiss before heading out.

When you returned home, the house was quiet. "Rod?" You called, walking into the kitchen to see your cakes on the stove cooling and the back door was open.

"Hey," your brother stepped back inside. "You're back."

"What's going on? " You look at him confused. "Why were you outside?"

"I figured we could eat outside tonight, it's nice out."

"Okay then," you turn your attention to your cake, starting on the icing. "Did you get everything you needed?" Rodri asks, scooping some icing up on his finger.

You smack his arm, the man smiles and sticks his finger in his mouth to taste the frosting. "I did."

"Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower." He kisses your cheek, walking off towards the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at your brother's theatrics and finished up on your cake, frosting it and sticking it in the fridge for the time being.

By the time you finished tidying up and setting up the last of what was needed for dinner, it was a few minutes to 8 o'clock. Rodri finds his way back to the kitchen in slacks and a polo shirt.

"You're dressed up," you glance in his direction, setting the last glass into the dish rack. "We have company coming, I'm not gonna eat dinner in sweatpants, y/n."

You chuckled, remembering what you had told Jack earlier. "Okay whatever you say."

The doorbell rings, Rodri makes his way over to open it and let Jack in. The two of them made small talk in the entryway as you wiped your hands on the kitchen towel. Upon finding the men, you realized both of them were far too dressed up for you to be in sweatpants.

"I see I'm undressed." You announced, making your presence known.

"Hi y/n," Jack smiles at you, handing the bottle of wine over to Rodri.

"Hi Jack," you smiled back at him, as if you hadn't seen him 40 minutes ago. "I'm going to go change, I'll meet you guys outside."

You left them to make their way outside while you attempted to pull together an outfit as quickly as possible. You pulled your hair out of the falling apart ponytail it was in and put on a sundress before making your way outside.

"Wine?" Rodri asks, after pouring some into Jack's glass. "Yeah, please." You smile at your brother, sitting in the chair that was on the left; between Jack and Rodri who were across from each other.

Dinner was quiet, the 3 of you chatting about life, football, the upcoming matches, your plans come the fall. Rodri lets you and Jack speak, it's like you had forgotten he was there altogether; it didn't take a scientist to see the chemistry between you two.

You and Jack were comfortable in each other's space, joking around like you had known each other for years, the type of thing you'd only see with a couple.

After dinner wrapped up, you cleared the table and brought the cake out. You cut three pieces, handing them over to the boys before sitting down and taking your own piece.

Rodri takes a bite, looking over at his teammate who does the same. "How is it?" He asks Jack.

The man nods, "good, it's great." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, taking a bite from your own piece.

Rodri nods, the fork in between his fingers as he points between you and Jack. "So.. how long has this been going on?"

You coughed, rubbing your chest after you almost choked on your cake. Jack on the other was completely pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body.

He starts, glancing between you and Rodri, unsure what to say. "Wh-uh.. what are you talking about?"

Rodri rolls his eyes, as if Jack thought he was stupid. He knew the two of you were seeing each other, it was painfully obvious. He had a suspicion and tonight's dinner was either going to make or break the thought. It just slapped a big old confirmed stamp on the two of you.

"I'm not blind, you know. I do pay attention, even when you think I'm not." Rodri says, looking over at you with an accusatory look on his face. You bite back a shy smile, lips pressed together as you look away from your older brother. "Plus, your bedroom is next to mine, y/n. Having him on speaker all night isn't exactly the slickest way of hiding a relationship."

You and Jack chuckled, looking at each other. "It's not that we didn't want to tell you-" "It was y/n's idea not to tell you." Jack butts in, throwing you under the bus so to speak.

"Shut up!" You groan, shaking your head. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," you glance in the direction of your boyfriend. "I just wanted to see where it goes, if I'd stay in Manchester or not."

"And are you?" Rodri asks.

You take a moment to think, nodding. "Yeah, I think I will be."

"Good," your brother reaches over, patting your hand. "Does he treat you well?"

You rolled your eyes at his cliché question but you nod. "He does."

Rodri turns his attention to Jack. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you." He tells his teammate, earning a laugh from Jack but you look at your boyfriend. "No, he will and I'll let him."

"Oh..." Jack looks between the siblings, jaw hanging open a bit. "Okay then."

The rest of the evening was quiet, you two gave Rodri a few details from your relationship, how long you'd be together and a few other things like that before you took the cake back inside.

Jack had gone to the bathroom and your brother finds you cutting another slice of the cake, putting it into a Tupperware bowl in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" He looks at you, confused.

You return the look, "packing a piece of cake for Jack? There's more than enough, Rod. You can have more tomorrow." You chuckled, putting the bowl into a bag.

"I don't think your clothes are gonna fit in there," Rodri tells you, leaning on the counter. You look at your brother, confusion all over your face. "What are you talking about, dude?"

"Go pack your bag."

"Are you kicking me out? I thought you were cool with-" "No dummy, I'm telling you to go spend the night with your boyfriend."

"Oh!" You laughed, walking over to give your brother a hug. "You're really okay with me dating him?"

"Would he have been my first choice? No, I thought you'd date a doctor or something boring like that but as long as you're happy and he treats you well, I'm 100% behind it."

"Okay," you smiled, kissing his cheek before running off to your room.

Jack and Rodri were in the entryway, your bag tossed over your shoulder as you skipped down the hallway towards them. Jack reaches for your bag, taking it from you.

"Thanks man," Jack nods at his teammate, Rodri smiles at him. "Anytime, take care of her, yeah? Drive carefully please."

"I'm a fantastic driver," Jack says, and you and Rodri exchange a look before laughing. Jack rolls his eyes, already knowing what you two were thinking. You hugged your brother once more, saying goodnight to him before heading down the driveway with him.

Once you were in the car, Jack looked over at you with a cheeky smile on his face. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Shut up," you smiled, reaching over to hold his hand.

--

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[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Not My Boyfriend : Teaser

Word Count : 0.7k

Warnings : drinking, swearing, mention of heartbreak, jealousy, arguing

A/N : I don't have an official release date for this story yet, but I wanted to get a teaser out for you. I want to finish Changbin's story before I start on this one, so hopefully the epilogue will be out soon and I can start this one! I'm really excited to share what I've been working on. Hope you enjoy!

          “Cheers to you!” She clinked glasses with Hongjoong, a smile spreading across her face as the two of them downed their respective shots. “I really am proud of you. You’ve been working so hard for this.” She placed a hand on his arm, giving him a sincere look so he knew she was serious.

            “Thank you, Y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you, though.” She cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him, urging him to go on, tell him how she helped. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “You really don’t know?”

            “How am I supposed to know, Kim Hongjoong?” She questioned, bringing her face closer to his. Hongjoong chuckled again, pushing her face away from his. “Tell me.” She pouted. And he knew he was going to tell her everything the second he saw it. As if her pout was a superpower. Drawing out any and all secrets you’ve kept hidden.

            “The theme for this exhibit was love and heartbreak.” He started slowly. Realization hit her and she took a step back. His name fell from her lips and he shook his head. “Y/n, I loved you in high school. Idiot.”

            “Oh.” She giggled.

            “And in the first year of university. But you met Minho and I moved on.” Hongjoong added with a laugh, taking a sip of his drink. “I like someone else now, but I the idea of a first love and the feeling of letting that go, I knew it would be a success.”

            “So what you’re saying is I should get half the profits.” Y/n teased.

            “I hate you.”

            “No you don’t.” Y/n said as she linked their arms, smiling over at Hongjoong. He smiled back at her, sliding her drink farther from her, telling her she’s had enough. “Look at you caring about me. How did I never notice?”

            “This is me being a friend. But you’re oblivious. You’ll never realize when someone likes you, no matter how obvious they make it.”

~

            Minho saw them from afar when he burst into the bar. Watched for a minute as they laughed and got too close for his liking. The way she was far too comfortable with him, a man that wasn’t him.

            He started walking towards them, fire in his veins, only seeing red. Hongjoong saw him first, and turned to whisper something to Y/n. She turned, and when their eyes met, it was like the world stopped. His anger melted and all that was left was jealousy. “Minho?” She seemed confused. Of course she would be. This was supposed to be her night out with her friend. But why didn’t she tell him the friend would be a guy?

            “Time to go home.” He said simply, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the bar. She said goodbye to Hongjoong as she was dragged away. Part of her was angry that he would come and pull her away from her friend. But another part was swooning. Hopeful that her feelings weren’t one sided. But she stopped herself from feeling anything but anger. Stopped herself from feeling hopeful that they could be anything more than what they are.

            “Okay can you tell me what the fuck that was?” She asked, pulling her hand away, and crossing her arms over her chest. Minho turned around to face her, his anger and jealousy obvious.

            “When you said you were grabbing drinks with a friend I thought you meant a girl. Who the fuck even is that guy hmm?” She scoffed.

            “Hongjoong. You know him. We went to university together.” The name sounded familiar to Minho. One of the many guys that hung around her. One of the many guys that had feelings for her. Minho would know because he was one of them too.

            “That still doesn’t explain why you told me you were grabbing drinks with a friend after work instead of just telling me it was Hongjoong.” Minho countered. “If you two are really just friends, there would be no reason to hide that.”

            “Oh my god Minho. You’re not my boyfriend! It doesn’t matter who I grab drinks with. Who my friends are. Who I spend the day texting. You. Are. Not. My. Boyfriend.”

            “Well if you would pick up on my damn hints, I fucking would be!”

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