#that he eventually began to spiral

[happyfeetfuryroad]

The saddest thing to me is seeing how many people (both in universe and out) buy into the narrative that Ed "went mad because Stede abandoned him" i.e. that Edward is this fickle hyperviolent guy who will snap and cause atrocities to cope with his pain

When Edward!! Was coping!! Wonderfully!! Before someone!! Decided to harrass him!! With the express purpose of making him snap!!

[trinkerichi]

The Amazing Toybox Circus!

A storybook - Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a very old toy shop.

An unremarkable sort of place with very few visitors. The shelves were lined with antique curiosities which had collected dust over the years.

Among these, atop a colorful wooden toy chest, was a simple kaleidoscope. It was inscribed with a strange design of teeth and eyes, and a poem about a magical circus.

...

Now, one might imagine the type of person would walk into such a place. Perhaps someone who has worked far too hard. Someone who feels unsatisfied with the tedium of every day life, and who longs for an escape into the fantastical world of imagination that playthings can inspire. This sort of person might look through a kaleidoscope and dream, just for a moment, of a new life filled with bright color, of fun and adventure.

This was the sort of person who suddenly woke up on the floor, surrounded by darkness and extremely confused.

Feeling dizzy and thoughts hazy, she righted herself and began to wander. A soft jingling noise followed her with every step, though she paid it no mind. There were more pressing issues at the moment.

She strained her mind trying to remember how she could have possibly ended up here. She clearly remembered entering a toy shop, but her thoughts beyond this were blank besides a vivid image of swirling colors. Red and blue spirals. All she knew at the moment was that she felt terribly afraid, and very very small.

Timidly, she called out-

"HELLO, MY NEWEST SUPERSTAR!"

An enormous wooden ventriloquist dummy suddenly burst from the shadows. His painted eyes gleamed, one blue, one green. His wooden teeth chattered as he loomed overhead. He pulled a white balloon on a string, which sported an equally large toothy grin.

The sight was positively terrifying.

"Welcome to the amazing toybox circus!"

"The ... the toybox what?" She squeaked in response.

"Why, the toybox circus of course! You're sure to have a grand time, my dear! " She was suddenly lifted up to meet his unsettling wooden gaze.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster," he continued at an unnecessarily loud volume.

"My dear, you've entered a wonderful world of whimsy and adventure, where anything can happen! Soon you'll meet your new friends and we shall put on a show!"

He spun her around before setting her down on the floor again.

The girl was speechless. Be part of a circus? Led by a talking puppet? Surely this was all a strange dream!

"I'm sorry, sir," she eventually said, somehow managing to speak politely considering the circumstances. "But I really must be getting home! If you'd kindly show me the way-"

"Oh but you simply must stay for the performance, my dear! I've prepared all sorts of activities that are sure to delight! Oh the audience will love you! You shall be the star attraction!"

The puppet was very insistent. At a loss, the girl considered her options were either to continue wandering the darkness or to trust this "ringmaster". Now she was an intelligent young lady, but she was also a curious sort. After all, curiosity was what brought her here in the first place, and curiosity compelled her to see what would happen next...

So despite better judgement, she finally said -

Hesitant but hopeful. Perhaps this would be interesting? At the very least, she could play along until finding a way out of this strange place, out of the toyshop and back home. Or until she woke up, as this was likely a dream after all.

"At any rate, this may be fun," she hoped out loud.

Something cackled from atop a large shelf. The silhouette was that of a rabbit, but with a wide yellow grin.

"Heh HEH! You'll soon see, little clown," he said, before hopping out of sight.

What an odd place this was...

----part 2 coming soon!

[writeroutoftime]

our family

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader (requested by: @piratejakesgf)

summary: it's the first morning tyler is going back to storm chasing after the birth of your daughter and he finds he needs some reassurances in the nursey.

warnings: none (though not proofread lol)

words: 0.7k

a/n: oh my goodness, thank you for this request!! it was so sweet and fun to write! imagining this man as a father truly made me swoon! please enjoy!! 💕

oOoOo

The sun slowly began peaking over the skyline - a gentle nudge to those still asleep that morning was soon arriving. Not included in that group was Tyler Owens. Instead, he stood in the baby pink nursey, staring down in the crib at his seven-month-old daughter. His finger stroked over her soft cheek, memorizing every breath she took.

Tyler thought the moment he met and fell for you that his life was changed forever. But it changed all over ago seven months ago when he held his daughter for the first time. It was then that he knew nothing in his life was more important than being there for his two girls.

He could feel the anxiety building in his body the longer he stood and simply watched. Tyler knew that eventually he was going to have to tear himself away from her, from you, and get back out to chasing. And dep down, he truly was excited. To be back with his team, doing what he loved. But it all felt so much more complicated now.

He went through a similar spiral once 'I love you's' were shared between each other. It was so easy to go out in the middle of a damn tornado when there was no one waiting for him. And now there were two people who would be waiting to for him to make it home safely.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Tyler didn't hear you shuffle into the nursey. It was only when you wrapped your arms around his frame and pressed your cheek against his sturdy back that he found himself relaxing the tiniest bit.

"Morning, darling." he whispered, letting go of the crib railings in favor of grasping your hands with his.

Your response of incoherent mumbles brought a much-needed smile to his face. Carefully, he untangled your limbs and turned you until your sleepy face met his green eyes. He titled his head forward so his forehead could rest against yours, soaking in this quiet moment.

"How you feeling today, cowboy?" you whispered, not wanting to shatter the bubble that encompassed you both.

Tyler sighed and stepped back so he could pull you into his chest. "I, I don't know if I'm being honest." he confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to be back out with the team again, but..."

"But?" you prompted, offering Tyler a space to just think and talk with zero judgments.

"But, I also don't want to leave the two of you. I mean what if something happens here while I'm gone? O-or what if something happens to me while I'm out there?"

You took a moment to carefully craft your response. "I can't say that I won't be worried while you're out there. But that's nothing new. I know you're going to do everything in your power to come home to me - to us." you said, your voice firm.

"Of course I will." Tyler vowed

"Well, we'll be waiting for you when you come home. And that'll just mean the reunion is that much sweeter." you told him with a sly smile.

Greedily, you pushed forward until your lips met Tyler's chapped ones. He responded immediately and held you impossibly tighter. The kiss was long and full of passion, both of you expressing everything that couldn't be said. Love, passion, and promises of more early morning kisses to come.

You eventually pull away and swayed slightly in the nursey as Tyler still held you tightly. Though he felt more relaxed, you could tell there was something he was holding back. As gently as you could, you grasped his chin in your fingers and forced him to look at you.

"And, when you come back home, if it still doesn't feel right - we'll figure it out. We're always here for you, whatever it is you're going to do."

Tyler nodded, teeth caught on his lips as he tried to hold back his tears. "What would I do without you both?" he asked with a small laugh. And when he got into his truck and turned back to see you and your daughter waving goodbye to him, he knew he'd make it back to you whatever mother nature threw his way.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor was on edge from the early reaping approaching. He was in his radio tower every hour of every day. You worried for him. But you didn't dare to disturb his work. You knew better than that.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, smut, implied established relationship, full demonic form!alastor, power imbalance, (alastor owns reader's soul), size kink, dacryphilia, creampie, begging, tentacle usage

☒ Word Count: 1,654

Selling your soul over to Alastor wasn't all that bad. 

The Radio Demon proved to be cordial. As long as you stayed in line. You hadn't planned on relinquishing your soul. Let alone to the heartless son of a bitch, Alastor. 

But the dapper man presented you with an offer you couldn't deny. Your soul in exchange for protection and power. As a new demon perusing through hell, you knew some help would be needed during the yearly reapings. So, you shook on it. Sealing your fate. 

Over the decades of being chained to Alastor, he began to grow a soft spot for you. It was gradual, but before you knew it, The Radio Demon had you hanging on to every word he said. 

You assumed your little crush for Alastor was one-sided. But one evening, Nifty blabbered to you about Alastor's habit of slaughtering any demon that even looked at you funny. Your heart skipped a beat. From then on, you picked up on all the glances he shot your way. 

Anytime you were in a room together, his crimson gaze was on you. Alastor watched you as if you were his prey. You didn't fail to notice how he only allowed you to touch him without repercussion. The Radio Demon often eased up from your warm embraces, which solidified your suspicions.

It didn't take long after that for Alastor to call you out on your fondness for him. You were more than flustered when he admitted to knowing all along. But The Radio Demon quickly eased your spiraling thoughts. He admitted to the feeling being mutual. 

From that day forward, your relationship only flourished. But Alastor always made it a point to highlight that he was the one in control at all times. 

Alastor was on edge from the early reaping approaching. He was in his radio tower every hour of every day. You worried for him. But you didn't dare to disturb his work. You knew better than that.

Eventually, you had no choice. It had been weeks, and no one had heard from Alastor. The hotel patrons pleaded for you to bring him out of his workspace. You denied it vehemently until those fuckers peer-pressured you into caving. 

You muttered curses as you marched up to Alastor's radio tower. You cleared your throat before calling out to him. Your balled-up fists trembling beside you. "A-Alastor? May I come in?" 

As the seconds of silence flew by, your anxiety increased. A few minutes passed before the door flung open. Revealing an unmistakably irritated Alastor. "What is it?" His sharp tone sent a chill down your spine as he stepped aside. Allowing you to enter his sacred space. 

"E-Everyone's worried about you. So I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Your voice was timid as you fixed your gaze on the floor. You heard a deep sigh escape Alastor before you felt his hands on you. He grasped your jaw firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

"You doubt my competence, my dear?" You froze, desperately racking your brain for a response. Alastor's other hand held your hip firmly. His grasp on you was bruising, no doubt. "Of course not! I just- with all the stress you've been under I... I want to help you in any way I can!"

You saw the wheels turning in Alastor's mind from your declaration. His hand at your jaw slithered down. Clutching your other hip as he pushed you backward. You stumbled slightly, and a gasp escaped you as your backside came in contact with his control panel. "Anything, you say?" 

Alastor's voice was low as he hoisted you up. You now sat atop the control panel as The Radio Demon slotted himself between your parted thighs. You nodded fervently in agreement. "Anything, use me how you see fit."

That was all the conformation he needed. Alastor wasted no time hiking your skirt over your thighs. A blunt gasp escaped you as his sharp nails dipped between your legs, tearing your panties to shreds in one swift motion. Your eyes widened as you noticed The Radio Demon begin to morph into something more sinister before your very eyes. 

Alastor's antlers tripled in size, as did his frame. A glowing red X marked the middle of his forehead, and his pupils turned into radio dials. His body completely enveloped yours as Alastor freed himself from his trousers. You bit your lip in anticipation as you admired his length. His antlers weren't the only thing that tripled. 

His cock was an angry red, leaking a copious amount of precum as he bullied himself into your welcoming walls. "A-Alastor!" You whined as the tip of his hard length pushed past the tight ring of your pussy. You outstretched your arms to wrap around his twisted neck. But before you could get that far, Alastor's tendrils came out to play. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself, my dear. I'm the one in control. Do I need to remind you of that?" Alastor's radio static was heavier on his tone than ever. A gasp escaped you as his tentacles tangled around your limbs. Your arms were now bound, and your legs were spread wide, giving Alastor better access to your dripping heat. 

But that wasn't all. Your glowing green choker appeared before your very eyes. Alastor removed one hand from your hip to clutch the chain leash that dangled off your collar. A loud moan escaped you as Alastor plowed the rest of his cock deep inside your pussy. 

"You speak when I say you can speak." He groaned, thrusting into you deep and tugging you closer by the blunt green chain.

"You touch me when I say you can touch me." Alastor pulled back, leaving only the tip of his ruddy cock nestled inside you.

"And you come when I say you can come." His hips snapped sharply, prodding your g-spot faultlessly. "Understood?" Alastor's smile took up nearly half his face as he peered down at you. 

You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, waiting for the green light to speak. Alastor granted you another quick thrust. "Look's like someone was paying attention, good girl. You may speak now, darling."

Your lips trembled as Alastor began fucking into you wildly. "Y-Yes! I understand, I'll be good!" You babbled as one of his tendrils dipped between your thighs. The slippery tentacle flicked teasingly over your clit. You couldn't help the way your pussy clenched around Alastor's cock from the delicious sensation. 

Alastor grunted from the feeling, but his hips never eased up. The Radio Demon fucked himself into you with reckless abandon. Chasing his own high above all else. The prodding at your sweet spot and the slippery tendril swiping at your clit was nearly too much to bear. You knew the coil within your tummy was merely moments from unraveling. 

"Alastor! P-Please, I'm so close... please can I-" You babbled, giving him a pleading look as his sharp claws dug deep into your hip. Your vision blurred as tears spilled past your lash line. Your neck ached from the collar chafing your delicate skin, and your arms went numb from how long they were bound for. 

His tongue darted out to lick the tears that ran down your cheek. You felt him throb deep within you from how you cowered beneath him. "Hmm... not good enough. You need to try harder than that, my dear." His pace was ungodly at this point. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

Your mind was fuzzy as you tried to form a coherent thought. Alastor chuckled wickedly above you as his tentacles tightened around your limbs. His grip on your leash was unwavering. "Please, Alastor! Please may I come? I'll be so good I-I promise... I beg you!'

Your pleading voice was hoarse as more tears slipped past your waterline. Bottom lip quivering as you peered up at him desperately. Alastor's pace faltered for a moment. Your pitiful plea riled him up more than he cared to admit. His release was near, it was only a matter of time. 

"Much better. Go on, come for me!" The moment Alastor uttered those words, you were gone. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, legs trembling wildly as your white hot release overtook your senses. Your pussy gushed around Alastor's cock as he fucked you through your high. 

Alastor groaned loudly above you as he slammed himself to the hilt inside you before stilling. A whine was pulled from your throat the second you felt Alastor's cum painting your walls white. His grip on your leash eased up, the green collar dissipating before your eyes. The Radio Demon slowly began to shrink in size as the last of his load filled you up. 

You took a shaky breath as the tendrils slithered away from your limbs, finally allowing you to stretch them out. Alastor took on his normal appearance now as he slowly pulled himself out of your spent pussy. Embarrassment flooded your body from the aftershocks of what transpired. "Well, that was effective copulation, my dear! I feel as right as rain now!"

All you could do was stare at him dumbfounded as you pulled your skirt over your thighs. Alastor was back to his somewhat usual self. Who knew all he needed was to fuck you to get him out of his stressed state of mind. He offered you a hand as you slumped off the control panel, trying to stand on shaky legs. 

"Glad you're better, Al. Now that we settled that- can we talk about how you never told me you could do that with your coc-" Alastor's finger pressed against your lips, silencing you.

"Now, now. No need for such vulgar talk! What my body can do is for me to know and for you to find out."

tags; @danveration @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix@littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @chewbrry @nonetheartist @zombiesnips-blog @stargirlplanet @twistedkisses

leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

please have your age in your bio or i cannot add you.

[perlelune]

All Too Well | Rafe Cameron

A tragedy in your family forces you to return to the one place you fled from years ago. Your hometown of Outer Banks.

Warnings: NON-CON, Mom Reader, Pogue! Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Blackmail, Threats, Child Abduction, Gun Use

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You sigh as you pass the familiar town sign. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise on earth.

Right, paradise on earth. Until it became hell for you.

You let your gaze wander across the coastline, soaking in the crashing waves and glittering sand. The fresh sea breeze whisks inside the car, its soft, familiar flutter over your face bringing bittersweet memories alongside it. As you take in your surroundings, you’re struck with the realization of how little has changed over the years. Same houses. Same trees. And perhaps, you ponder wistfully, even the same people…

A mix of confusing emotion flows through you at that prospect.

Most of your life was spent here, precious memories having taken place on that very beach you just passed. Lazy days hanging out with your friends, doing whatever it is you wished. Hanging out, goofing off, getting high and enjoying endless summers.

Before mesmerizing blue eyes found yours at a beach party. It’s when your downward spiral began. How sweetly things started. How sourly they turned.

You can still feel the ghost sensation of his fingers around your neck, pressing until you could hardly breathe. Yet another fit of anger. Brushed off like so many until you couldn’t bear it anymore.

Eventually you grew tired of the whirlwind of emotions, of how he always had an excuse, some sort of twisted justification for his horrible actions. How somehow nothing was ever his fault. But yours. Always yours.

And once you found out that you had more than your own well-being to worry about…the decision was made for you. Of course, you needed to run like hell and never look back. It wasn’t just about you anymore. You had someone else to protect, from his mood swings and temper, but most importantly…from becoming just like him.

A heavy breath drops from your mouth as you clutch the steering wheel. The unpleasant flashes are chased away with a sharp shake of your head. You steady your rising pulse. You promised yourself not to not sink into that hole again. That hopeless, desolate place where you’re trapped in the dark and no one can hear you screaming. You’re stronger now. He can’t hurt you anymore.

This was four years ago. All that stuff is in the past. Buried and forgotten. Thankfully.

Your son’s hitch-pitched voice tugs your focus from the backseat.

“Can we go to the beach, mom?” he says, bouncing in excitement. “Please, please, please.”

You swipe a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Here he is. Your entire life, on the cusp of throwing a tantrum in the backseat of your car. Your three year-old son, Parker.

Your focus shifts back to the road.

“We have to go visit some friends first, sweetie.”

“Okay…” he pouts dejectedly.

“Once we’re settled in, we can go.”

He beams at that. A smile creeps upon your lips. While raising Parker on your own has been a challenge, you wouldn't change a thing. Seeing his bright, gummy smile everyday makes it all worth it.

You make a few more turns before finally reaching your destination. You soak in the striking sight of the house as you climb out of your car. It’s a lot bigger and nicer than the ones surrounding it, an uncanny sight in the Cut. It still surprises you that JJ didn’t move to Figure Eight. With his flourishing boat renting business, he can basically do anything he wants now. And you know he’d likely get a kick out of pissing off the 

Kooks by moving to their side of the island. So you’re a bit shocked that he chose to keep roots there. 

You suppose, in the end, he will always be a Pogue at heart. 

You pick up your son from the back seat. A yawn escapes from his mouth before he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to doze off. You can’t blame him. This was his longest trip since he was born. He clings to you as you make your way to the front door. 

The door opens, a familiar blond welcoming you with a bright smile.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls. 

“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay? We can go to a motel.”

JJ huffs his disapproval before ushering you inside. 

“Nonsense. Why stay in a motel when we have plenty of room here?”

Your eyes dart about the place. It’s clean and though the decor screams ‘bachelor’, homey vibes ooze from the space. Memorabilia from JJ’s travels are littered across the shelves as well as pictures of him and the Pogues beneath his surfing board. Melancholy hits you again. You’ve missed so much.

You shoot him a teasing grin.

“Plenty of room, huh? Sounds like someone’s gone full Kook.”

JJ rolls his eyes at your playful taunt. “Do you have any bags?” he asks.

“In the trunk,” you reply, handing him your keys. “I didn’t pack much since we won’t be staying long.”

He takes your keys, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Which I still don’t get. I could kick his ass for you, so you don’t have to leave again.”

“It’s fine, JJ. Parker and I have a great life in Florida. I just got promoted. I’m saving up so we can move to a bigger place in a few months. Things are good. Really good.”

“I still think you should be here with us.” You supply no answer as he strolls to your car to get your things. You know JJ would tussle with him if you let him, has tried to in the past. He’s your best friend and has always been overly protective of you. It’s exactly why you need to leave once everything is handled. You refuse to let him get tangled up in your mess. It was never his to fix. 

You pad further inside JJ’s home. Astonishment flutters through you as you find another familiar face by the kitchen counter. 

Her long blonde mane swings at her back as she rushes to you. 

“Is that my nephew?” she whispers in an attempt not to wake up your toddler.

“Sarah,” you greet cheerfully.

She bends to get a better look at him. Her expression lights up.

“He’s gotten so big since the last time.”

The sound of Sarah’s voice tears Parker from his slumber.

He rubs his eyes, a broad grin appearing on his little face when he recognizes her.

“Auntie Sarah…”

“Hey buddy,” she chimes.

He jumps into her arms and the two of them giggle as she hugs him.

“I wish I could visit more often,” she says.

You nod in agreement. Sarah used to visit the two of you in Florida on a semi-regular basis, but she had to stop once a certain somebody became a bit too curious about the impromptu trips she was taking several times a year.

“Me too, but we both know it’s not possible.”

The two of you share a knowing look.

JJ reappears with your two bags in his hands.

“Shall I show you and your offspring to your chambers, m’lady?” he says, mimicking a horrible British accent. 

You shake your head at his antics. Though you’d never admit it aloud, you kind of missed them. A lot.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 

He flashes you a broad grin.

“Hm, I think the word you’re looking for is wickedly handsome.”

“That is more than one word,” you deadpan.

He shrugs. “Just handsome then.”

You sigh as you follow him upstairs. Pleasant surprise courses through you at what you witness when he opens the door to the guest room. 

The interior is warm and welcoming. The blankets have rockets, moons and stars on them. There’s even a nightlight and a few toys lying in a corner. It’s a lot more than you expected and a swell of emotions mounts inside you at the sight. 

“You just had to go overboard, huh?”

His shoulders heave and fall in nonchalance.

“Only the best for my best girl.”

You plop down on the bed, drinking in the animal paintings on the walls. 

“Did you paint that yourself?”

He sits next to you, leaning back in a relaxed stance.

“I did. Mostly. Though Sarah, Kie and the others insisted on helping.”

“You know we’re not staying.”

He studies you, a small smile tugging his lips.

“A guy can hope.” JJ licks his lips, fingers dragging over the colorful blanket. “I just want you to know you have a home here if you ever decide to come back.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Blue eyes lock with yours, silence stretching between the two of you before he speaks again. 

“I really missed you.”

“Me too,” you say. “Are you and Kie still…?”

“We broke it off a few years ago.”

Your eyes round. They seemed so into each other at the time. Though you surmise, people can change over the years. You aren’t teenagers anymore after all.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. We’re better off as friends,” he states casually. He holds your gaze and smiles. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Alright Master Yoda, when did you get so wise?” you quip.

He joins his hands, his expression solemn.

“A stupid kid, I am not anymore.” You laugh and his smile widens. “Believe it or not.” He pauses, appearing lost in thought. He then offers, “You should come to the Bonfire celebration tonight.”

“I don’t know…”

Your brows knit. You returned out of necessity. Hanging out isn’t exactly at the top of your list of priorities. 

JJ gives your shoulder a light shove.

“Come on. It’s at the Boneyard, just like old times.” His expression turns serious. “Everyone’s really missed you. It’s not the same without you around.”

He gets to his feet. Your stomach knots when he retrieves an urn from under the night table and hands it to you.

Your chest tightens.

“Are those her…”

“Yeah. Her last wish was to be at sea. Maybe you could do it tonight?”

Your fingers press firmly around the curved edges of the urn, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I should have been there, JJ,” you mumble.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But if I-”

“No, you can’t blame yourself for every little thing. I won’t let you.” Noting your trembling fingers, he takes the urn from you, placing it over the night table. He cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your face. “She knows how much you loved her. That's all that matters.” He wraps his arms around you and you sink into his embrace, soaking his familiar sea-salt smell. It’s somehow barely changed since you last saw him. “It was an accident. No one could have done anything. Especially not you.”

You sniffle, swallowing a fresh surge of tears. You may not have been close to your sister, but you still resent that you couldn’t be together before she passed. She barely got to know her own nephew. 

She deserved a lot more from you. A lot more that you weren’t able to give, which you hate yourself for.

You just couldn’t risk it. Not when one look at him would suffice for most people to guess who Parker’s father is. Starting with those piercing blue eyes. The same as his father’s. 

Accidents are accidents. But you can’t help but wonder if being with her would have made a difference. No one even really knows what happened. Just that she was in her house - you parents’ house - and fell. Then she stopped breathing. By the time she was rushed to the hospital it was too late.

Your sister was gone. Ally is gone.

A harsh truth your mind is still wrangling with.

“I don’t know if I can come. Parker’s still so small-”

“I’ll watch him.”

Your head snaps up. You find Sarah in the doorway, your son in her arms. As soon as he enters the room, the little boy gets excited. He starts running around and grabs a toy from the pile to play with.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Are you kidding?” Sarah exclaims. Her gaze softens as she looks at your son. “I missed the little guy so much. We’ll have a ton of fun.”

You peer at Parker. He’s found a dinosaur and a soldier and decided to have the two apparently fight in space. You have to admit, JJ’s house is much more kid-friendly than you expected. Perhaps, you can probably release him into his aunt’s care for a few hours. You have no desire to turn into one of those helicopter moms who need their children under perpetual supervision. Parker too, may benefit from some time with Sarah. He never gets to see her after all.

“Well, I guess if you don’t mind,” you say. 

Sarah perks up at your response. 

“See? Everything’s sorted out,” JJ says brightly.

The moment they see you, Kie, John B and Pope hurtle a ceaseless string of questions your way. Your life in Florida. Your job. Your dating life. The weather. How the beaches are there. No inquiry’s off-limits, too strange or personal. They constantly speak over each other, their excitement at seeing you again clear as day. You try to answer everything in between your laughs. JJ was right. It’s good that you came. 

You needed to see them. It doesn’t hit you until you listen to Kie’s bubbly, passionate rant about the foundation she created to clean up the ocean floors. You missed the Pogues. Deeply. You were so absorbed in being a mom that you never took the time to ponder that loss. 

“Guys, you have to give her time to actually answer,” Sarah jests. 

“It’s okay,” you say, waving your hand in nonchalance. Your handle on the urn between your arms tightens. “There’s something I need to do anyway.”

Quiet falls over the group, their lively chatter instantly dying. You see it in the Pogues’ eyes. All your friends are acutely aware how it guts you to do this. 

Kie takes a step forward. She hasn’t changed a bit. Brown curls cascade at her back. Her pretty face is scrunched in concern. 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. This isn’t something the Pogues can help you with. You glance at JJ who stands a few feet behind her. His expression mirrors hers. You’ve used him as a crutch enough times. Too many times. 

You give a tremulous smile.

“No I…I need to do it alone.”

She nods as you stroll towards the rolling waves. Your slow steps trail prints into the sand as you soak in the flaming sun spilling over the horizon. Diamonds sparkle above the mesmerizing water, lights dancing over the infinite stretch of blue. 

You open the urn. Water licks your toes as you move forward. 

As you watch her ashes swirl to the bottom of the ocean, a strange emptiness fills your chest. None of it feels right. She should be here laughing. Or doing something stupid with the Pogues. Doing stupid shit was her specialty. 

Her sunny smile flickers in your mind. 

You don’t notice the tears until their salty taste slips past your lips. You quickly wipe them as soon as you do. You can’t let Parker see you cry. He would ask why, in that sweet little voice of his. “Why are you crying, mommy?”

And you’d be stumped, incapable of producing a suitable answer for him. 

“Princess?”

You freeze. The deep voice feels snatched right out of your worst nightmares. You turn slowly, denial still keeping you mute. 

Your heart drops. 

It really is him, you realize, dumbfounded. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, dizzyingly tall and wickedly handsome in khaki shorts and a seersucker buttondown. A very Kook getup. Not that you’d expect anything less from Rafe Cameron. 

He chuckles at your reaction.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile widens. You feel sick. He points at his chest. “Shit, am I…the ghost?”

Ignoring the rising tide of panic overflowing your insides, you brush past him. 

He follows you, his long legs easily keeping up with your hasty strides. 

“I was gonna offer my condolences but…Really? You don’t even say ‘hi’ anymore?”

“Hi, Rafe.”

Your stomps are halted when he stands in your path.

He bends so the two of you are at eye level. Your breath catches beneath his stare. You somehow forgot. How blue his eyes are. And something else strikes you as you look at him. 

Those are your son’s eyes. 

“There. Did you lose your manners in…Where do you live now anyways?” He snorts but there isn’t a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s not like I’d know since you changed your number on me.”

Your stomach flips. “It’s good to see you, Rafe. But I was just leaving.”

When you try to get past him again, he grabs your arm to keep you from leaving. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Why the cold shoulder? After all these years…this is what I get from you, princess?”

A lump forms in your throat. 

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say. 

You try to shake out of his grasp but his grip on you tightens. 

He gets in your face, his gaze narrowing. 

“I haven’t seen you in four years. And this is how you treat me? W-What did I do to deserve that?” You turn your head, tears gathering in your eyes. His fingers latch around your jaw, digging painfully into your cheeks. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Someone pulls you back from Rafe, sliding between the two of you. 

You gasp as you stumble back. 

“Leave her alone, Rafe,” JJ grits out, standing in front of you protectively. 

A derisive snicker bursts through Rafe’s lips. He glares up and down at your friend, disdain burning in his eyes.

“Still hanging out with those Pogues, I see.” He laughs as JJ crowds his space, his jaw clenching. “You tryin’ to get into something, Maybank?”

“Maybe I am,” JJ replies.

One could cut a knife through the thick layer of tension coating the air between the two men.

You wedge yourself between them. None of them looks away from the other, a nonverbal duel still occurring right before your eyes. 

You heave out a long sigh.

“Guys. We aren’t kids anymore. That’s enough,” you say. You unleash an annoyed sigh when they don’t move and grab JJ’s hand. “JJ, let’s go.”

“Still her little puppy dog, I see,” Rafe sneers. “Too bad she never gave you any treats like you wanted, huh Maybank?”

He blows JJ a mocking kiss, wiggling his fingers and openly taunting him. 

Sensing his urge to pounce on Rafe when he tenses near you, you tug JJ further away. 

“He’s not worth it,” you whisper.

“Good night, princess. I guess I’ll see you around,” Rafe yells from afar. 

“No, you won’t,” you respond, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

The events of the evening leave you rattled. For the entire night, you toss and turn in bed, the sound of Rafe’s voice, even deeper after all these years, invading your every thought. You thought you were safe. Freed. But frankly, one look from him had you feeling weak. Defenseless. It yanked you right back to four years ago. Back when you still hung to his every word and thought he held the moon. When you thought that, perhaps, Rafe Cameron was just misunderstood. And you, the only one capable of solving the riddle he offered. You truly were a naive teenager then. 

Guys like Rafe never change. It took you entirely too long to accept that fact. You'll never make such a mistake ever again.

In the morning, JJ leaves to run some errands, leaving you alone with Parker. You plant a kiss atop his head and stroke his blond curls. His tiny fists are curled against the pillow, his lids twitching while he lightly snores. It soothes you, the sight of him soundly sleeping. He’s innocent and happy. You would do anything to keep him that way for as long as possible.

You climb out of bed and make your way downstairs. You get started on breakfast for your son, mashing ripe bananas and oats as you follow along a tutorial online. It’s where you learnt everything when it came to caring for Parker. The internet has been a life-saver in more ways than one. 

You pause your whisking when the doorbell chimes. 

Your brows knit. You’re not expecting anyone. Neither is JJ. A delivery, perhaps? But he didn’t say there would be one today.

You flinch as the sound erupts again. 

Your heart starts to race. Something isn’t right. You can feel it. 

At first, you elect to ignore whoever’s on the other side. You’re alone with your son. You won’t let some stranger who can’t catch a hint inside the house.

But it doesn’t matter. 

The bell rings again. You’re paralyzed. You take tremulous steps to the entrance. Whoever it is, you plan on telling them to kick rocks. You suck in a wide lungful and nudge the door open by a tiny crack. Your eyes fly open in shock at who’s on the doorstep.

Immediately, you try to slam the door closed. He doesn’t let you, placing his foot against the doorjamb as his large hand curls around the wooden edge of the door to keep it open. Fear seizes your throat as he looms over you.

“Rafe? What are you doing here?” you say, trying your best to quell the tremor in your voice. 

He licks his lips and drinks you in.

“Well, we didn't get to finish our talk last night-”

Of course, this is the moment your son chooses to groggily drag his feet down the stairs. 

“Mommy, I’m hungry…” he complains while rubbing his face. 

Your heart drops to your feet. 

Rafe’s eyes grow wide. For a minute, he’s too stunned to utter a word, a million thoughts seeming to go through his mind. You use his surprise to nudge him outside. He doesn’t resist, shock still written on his handsome face. 

You close the door and slump against the wood. 

“Who’s that?” Rafe blurts out once he finds his ability to speak again. He’s pointing at the door as his breaths grow heavier. It doesn’t matter that your son is now out of view. Some doors can never be shut again once they’ve been opened. This is one of them.

Your shoulders heave and fall in feigned nonchalance.

“Nobody.”

His jaw clenches. “Don’t fuck with me, okay?”

You nod and show him the front yard.

“Let’s talk over there.”

He won’t let it go. Just like he never did with anything when you were together. You watch him pace across the yard as he grips his head. It almost seems like you’re not here, a spiral of emotions clearly sucking him in. You stand back warily. You remember those spirals, how destructive they could turn. 

“Fuck, Fuck…” he mumbles under his breath. He takes a deep breath and whirls to you. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

You cross your arms, pulling the cardigan closer to your shivering frame.

“Rafe. I need you to calm down…”

He slaps your hand away when you try to touch his arm. 

“No you…Y-You don’t get to tell me to calm down, okay? Because it’s fucked. Fucked.” You jump as he gets louder, uncaring about anyone hearing him.  “How old is he? Three? Four? Is he my-”

“His father’s in Florida,” you blurt out. As soon as the words roll off your tongue, you curse inwards, your mistake dawning on you. Why did you say Florida instead of some other random state like Missouri or Massachusetts? You’re gonna have to move. Again.

Rafe’s jaw flexes before a chuckle of disbelief leaves him. 

“Really? You expect me to believe this load of crap? That kid in there looks just like me.”

“It was a one-night stand.”

He squints at you.

“I know you. You don’t do one-night stands. You’re not that kind of girl.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. Maybe I’ve changed.”

That mere suggestion seems to have his blood boiling. 

“I want a paternity test.”

Your stomach plummets.

“No.”

He gives a slow nod, a smirk blooming on his lips.

“Then I’ll court-order it, sue you for custody and make sure you never see our son again.” 

A chill creeps up your spine. Your voice quakes with fear.

“You wouldn’t.”

His face breaks out into a broad grin. 

“Try me, princess.”

You look at him. Really look at him. A determination is etched in his steely glare. One you haven’t seen in years. Not since he relentlessly pursued you until you yielded to his advances. It flattered you then. It terrifies you now.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he announces. “And don’t try to run away from me again, you understand? You won’t like what happens if you do.”

Your throat goes dry. When you don’t answer, Rafe’s hand shoots up and latches around your throat.

You whimper as he seethes, “Do you understand?”

“I-I understand, Rafe,” you stutter, your body shaking in his grasp.

He pats your cheek, seemingly satisfied. 

“Good. See you tomorrow, princess.”

Even as he releases you, your chest is tight with dread.

He starts walking to his Jeep. You remain glued to your spot, feeling as if a hole just opened in the ground and you were being swallowed in its depths. 

Rafe’s gaze rakes across your shuddering frame as he starts his car.

He bends over the window and smirks.

 “Oh by the way, you still look good…Didn’t get to say that last night,” he tosses flirtatiously before driving away. 

When night comes, JJ scowls at you while you’re frantically packing. Since he came back, he has tried to convince you to stay. 

But your mind is made up. You refuse to wait for him to have the confirmation he needs to force his way into your life again. You know exactly what the test will say. There’s been no guy other than Rafe. No one before or after.

He left you so bruised, so riddled with wounds that never closed, that you never opened your heart to anyone else again. And definitely not your legs. 

“You should have called me when it happened,” JJ says.

“Call you for what? So the two of you can swing on each other?”

You glance at your son, napping across the large bed. He has no idea what’s going on. No idea his father was here just a few hours ago. A silver lining amidst the dusky clouds threatening to rain hell upon your life. A life you cherish. A life you worked so hard to build. 

A life you just lost. Coming back here was a mistake. You knew it from the beginning. Had that sinking feeling all along. But you were so chock full of guilt about your sister that you didn’t have it in you not to fulfill her last wish. She deserved that at least.

…And now, you’re fucked.

“This doesn’t change anything. We can’t stay.”

“But…”

You whip your head up and whisper to not wake Parker.

“It’s his kid. You know how much sway he has now. How much he could fuck up our lives. Not just mine. But everyone else’s…including you, JJ.”

Annoyance flares in his eyes. You can tell he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. 

“But you don’t have to do this alone. I can-”

You clutch his arm and shake your head.

“No, I already involved you enough. If we go now, he won’t be able to find us, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”

His frown accentuates. Unsaid words crowd the air. You feel their weight in his silence. Still, none leave his mouth. He heaves out a deep resigned breath instead.

“Just text me when you’ve crossed state lines, okay?”

“Of course. Tell Sarah and the Pogues I’m sorry. I’ll call her once Parker and I are safe.”

He wraps his arms around you. You sink into the embrace, committing that comforting warmth to memory. 

“I can’t believe you’re already leaving,” he says. 

You swallow the onset of tears tickling the back of your eyes. 

“Yeah…Me too.”

When you’re slinking down the road in your hatchback as stars twinkle above you, you genuinely believe you are out of trouble. You didn’t even wake Parker, just lifted him from bed and gingerly placed him in the backseat. Heavy sleeper as he is, your son did not stir. You believe the two of you are safe, sound and on your way back to Florida. That for once, you bested him. All's well that ends well, as they say.

But perhaps you escaped the frying pan to jump right into a blazing inferno. 

It is what occurs to you as you’re hailed by a cop car on your way out of town. The moment you get a glimpse of the sirens, the blood drains from your head. You can never catch a break, it seems. At first, you ponder if you should ignore it, keep on driving. You almost do it. But as the vehicle cuts right across your path, you’re left with no other option. Your nerves flare at the sight of the blue and red lights glaring in the pitch blackness, illuminating the large trees flanking the road.

As Officer Shoupe steps outside the car, your gut wrenches. He chased you and your friends across the island so many times when you were a teenager. You weren’t the most fond of him back then. Now you’re downright on the verge of soiling your car seat as he takes long, threatening strides towards your car.

He knocks on your window. You sigh and lower the glass. You place a hand in front of your face as he blinds you with his flashlight.

“Ma’am. Get out of the car,” he orders.

“I don’t understand. I wasn’t speeding-”

His hand ghosts over the holster of his gun. Your pulse quickens. The clear threat hangs in the night air, stifling your breath.

“I won’t say it again. Get out.”

You take shaky steps outside of the car, raising your hands the entire time. Your son’s in the backseat. You find yourself praying, hoping that he doesn’t wake up and see you like this.

Unspilled tears collect in your eyes.

As he speaks into his walkie-talkie, your heart stops. 

“I’ve got her, sir. You were right. She was trying to leave.”

It doesn’t even surprise you when you see a familiar Jeep arrive on the scene some time later. Of course it was all him. Of course he anticipated you running away, again.

A surge of queasiness mounts within you as his towering frame leaps out of the drivers’ seat and he stomps in your direction. You feel the bear trap closing in on you, the claws sinking deep. Inescapable.

He opens the door where your son is having an oblivious nap and barks at you, “Get Parker and come with me.”

When you refuse to move, he seizes the back of your neck and slams your face against your car window. You squeak as the coolness of the glass seeps into your cheek.

“I said…Get him,” he hisses, pressing something cold against the base of your spine. You go still. You never had one pointed at you before but you’re fairly sure you know what object is kissing your back right now.

As the muffled metallic click of the weapon ripples through the night, a stray tear skips down your cheek.

A gun. Rafe has a fucking gun. Disbelief floods your chest.

Not even your worst nightmares could you have conjured something this sick and evil.

His lips drag along your earshell as you sob. “Get our son,” he articulates. “I won’t repeat myself, princess.” As soon as he allows you some space, you rush to pick up your son from the backseat. He’s thankfully still asleep. You adjust him in your arms as you gulp down a sob, reluctantly making your way to Rafe’s Jeep. He instructs you to put him in the backseat. He then nudges the gun against your hip, quietly heeding you to climb into the passenger seat of his car. 

Your heart shrivels inside your chest as he hops into the car too and slams the door shut.

“All these years and you still haven’t learnt to listen,” he scoffs, irritation bleeding through his tone. His wrath is palpable. Sizzling, red, hot fury you feel all the way to your bones.

He hates you. Who knows what he’ll do if you provoke him any further?

Terror makes your voice slip out hoarse, hardly more than a whisper.

“W-Where are you taking us Rafe?”

The gun - the goddamn gun - is still in his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and slaps the steering wheel. 

“I should kill you for this, you know?” he hisses, turning the key in the ignition with his other hand. The engine revs as he turns the car around. He dives onto the road. Any fickle hope you harbored dwindles into the night. 

You lick your dry lips.

“Rafe,” you try again.

His eyes flare dangerously, the gun twitching in his hand.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking.” A mirthless chuckle bursts through his lips. “S-So what now? You take my son from me, for four fucking years…and I’m the bad guy? I-It’s somehow my fault?”

You swallow past the thick lump in your throat. Tears flow down your face as shaky words bounce off your tongue. “You scared me, Rafe…sometimes.” You glance at the gun and sniffle. “You’re scaring me now. Please just…p-put away the gun.”

He slams his hand into the steering wheel as you gasp.

“Don’t fucking try telling me what to do,” he warns. He draws a long inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, there’s a peculiar determination burning in his gaze. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna drop off our son.” The corners of his lips curl upward. “Then Mommy and Daddy are gonna go home and have a little grown-up talk.”

A chill shoots through you.

“Rafe, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry. O-Okay, I admit it. I lied. But please, don’t-”

“Shut up!” he roars, causing you to fall quiet. “You’ve lied to me enough. I don’t want to hear another word coming out of your lying whore mouth until we get home.”

The commotion nudges your son awake.

“Mommy…”

Your nerves thrum in panic. You bend over the backseat and cradle his face, slotting a false smile onto your lips. “Go back to sleep, sweetie,” you urge. 

“Yes, Parker, go back to sleep,” Rafe repeats, his tone veering on sarcastic. 

“Who’s that, mommy?” your toddler inquires, tilting his head.

“Just go back to sleep,” you say, singing a tremulous lullaby to lull him back into slumber. Relief sits inside your chest when his eyes close.

He makes a first stop at his friends’ house. Your heart is ripped outside your chest as you watch Rafe’s friend - Topper or something you believe his name is - take your son away. They exchange words in the dark as you gawk in horror. You only have vague memories of Topper and now he has your son. A scream scalds the back of your throat, one you’re too terrified to let loose.

When Rafe returns inside the car, he is eerily quiet. You nearly find yourself wishing he’d talk, even if it’s to yell at you again. The silence is so unlike him, so profoundly unnerving.

But not another word escapes the confines of his tight lips as he drives.

Tannyhill comes into view and your heart sinks.

The persistent threat of the gun is the only reason you follow him inside. Whenever you drag your feet, he shoves the barrel into your back even more, reminding you what you’re risking if you don’t do as he says. You’re a sobbing, weeping mess by the time you’re in the Camerons’ lobby.

He places the gun on a nearby table and removes his belt.

“So, w-what was the plan exactly? Did you plan on never telling me?” You tense as he loops the belt around his knuckles, prowling forward. 

The golden ring on his finger glints in the low light of the lobby. 

“Did you plan on having that Pogue raise my son?”

“I…”

A sinister smile spreads over his face.

“You know what? I think we’ve been apart too long. I think I gotta remind you who the fuck I am, princess.” Your blood curdles at his words. You dart across the lobby but Rafe catches you, hauling you off the ground before slamming your body across the marble tiles without ceremony. Pain explodes through your limbs. He drags your limp frame to the railings. Your insides lurch as you feel leather bite into your flesh when he ties the belt around your wrists. He attaches the belt to the railings, restricting your arms’ range of motion.

Helplessness skyrockets inside you. A fresh wave of tears rolls down your cheeks.

“Rafe, please…”

Rafe pulls his zipper down. Impatience grunts leave him as he wriggles out of his pants and boxers, freeing his already rock-hard cock. He yanks your shorts and panties down until the bottom of your body is completely bare to him. 

His pupils swell at the sight of your bare cunt, leaving only a thin ring of blue in his dark gaze. 

He lines himself with your entrance, pressing his wet tip against your dry lips. He breaches past the tight ring of muscles as you stiffen. An immediate burst of pain scatters through you. Tears dot your lashes as heavy breaths rush from your chest. 

It’s clear it’s taking tremendous effort for Rafe to force himself inside your unprepared core. Sweat collects on his brow as he pins you with his broad frame. 

When he pushes more of himself inside you, your eyes roll back. You don’t think the agony could worsen but somehow it does. 

Your bound hands clench into fists, your nails sinking into your palms. 

“Rafe, please, it hurts,” you whimper. His fingers cinch around your throat in response. Your core burns, your lips parting in a soundless scream as Rafe bottoms out inside you. Your vision blurs with tears. Pure hatred oozes off his husky tone as he starts moving inside you. “You don’t get to complain. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from your mouth, do you hear me?” He drags his cock out and slams it inside your aching walls again. “This is what you deserve so you’re gonna fucking take it. Take my cock until I’m done with you.”

You’re in hell as Rafe grunts like an animal in rut above you, uncaring of the strangled sobs leaving your throat. 

The expression on his face is downright terrifying, empty of anything but burning rage. In every single thrust, you feel the intensity of his loathing for you. How much he craves to punish you for everything. 

To your utter disgust, your cunt grows slick around him, easing his crude assault. 

As he notes your arousal coating his length, he lets out a bone-chilling laugh. “So wet already, huh?” Hand still wrapped around your throat, he bends to whisper into your ear. “I always knew you were a slut.” Your breath hitches as he buries himself even deeper, touching a sensitive spot that sends a fresh wave of pain through you. “That’s why I had to keep you in line.” He drops a soft kiss on your cheek as you tremble beneath him. “Sluts like you need a firm hand.”

You’re nothing but a ragdoll under Rafe as he uses you as a vessel for his pent-up anger and frustration. Every time you graze your peak, your body jolting uncontrollably, he pulls out of you out of the blue, pinching your swollen clit until you cry out and reminding you that you’re not allowed to come, that you don’t deserve even a sliver of release.

You’ve always known Rafe was capable of terrible things. But this…This is worse than anything he’s ever done to you. This is the point of no return.

Every time Rafe ruthlessly pounds into you, a bullet-like sensation rips through your flesh, tearing apart any semblance of normalcy, safety that you had. Hot tears skip down your cheeks. You will never feel safe or normal again. 

“Did you fuck that Pogue?” he snarls, his warmth breath flowing over your face. You’re so dazed and fucked out, on the cusp of passing out, you can barely keep your thoughts coherent, let alone speak. 

“Don’t tell me I already fucked you dumb, princess?” he sneers, annoyance and a sick dose of mirth mingling in his hoarse timbre.

When you fail to provide an answer, he bangs your head against the railings. Pins and needles drill into your skull. He wrenches your head back, pulling on a fistful of your hair until your scalp stings.

“When I ask you a fucking question, you answer,” he seethes. His voice lowers as his eyes dive into yours. “Did you fuck that Pogue?”

“N-No, Rafe,” you wheeze out, your voice weak and defeated.

The marbled floor chafes your back as he steadily ruts into you again, grabbing under your thighs to fuck you even deeper as you weep in silence beneath him. 

“Good. You’re mine and no one else’s. Do you understand? That fucking pussy was always mine…and still is.” He unleashes a drawn-out purr, lips parting as you clench around him. “Fuck you’re tight. How the hell are you so tight?” he rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He lets go of your neck to focus on your hips, corralling them firmly in his large hands so he can fuck you with abandon. “God, I missed this,” he moans. His gaze narrows. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause you’ve got a tight pussy.” 

His thrusts grow sloppier over time. Rafe chases his high while you pant helplessly beneath him. When his warmth spills inside you, a shuddered exhale leaves you. He remains nestled between your bruised walls, his heavy body covering yours as his spent leaks between your ass cheeks, pooling beneath you. He plants a slow, soft kiss on your lips, a disturbing contrast to what he just did to you. 

He cups your cheek and strokes the side of your head. 

“You took four years from me. And I intend to make up for lost time.” A devilish grin splits across his face. Dread fills you as he adds, “Maybe I’ll even put another one in you, make sure not to miss anything this time.”

“Mommy, mommy! Look at me,” Parker shouts from astride the majestic pure breed pony his father appointed for his fourth birthday. 

He waves at you and you return the gesture with a hollow smile. 

“I’m watching you, sweetie,” you reply from your lounge chair by the pool. 

Above the Cameron mansion, the sun shines bright, the sky a dizzying shade of blue. There’s not a cloud in sight, almost as if Rafe paid them off to steer clear on his son’s special day.

Parker trots around the yard with a big, ecstatic smile on his face, his dad cheering him on nearby. The little boy requested a pony ride for his birthday so, of course, Rafe Cameron made it happen.

There aren’t many things Cameron money cannot buy. A fact he loves taunting you with every chance he gets. 

Just like the ridiculous, over the top birthday party he put together, Rafe never misses an occasion to spoil his son rotten since they reunited. Almost as if to show you what you’ve been depriving him of all these years, rub his money in your face and make you feel like a terrible mom. 

You can’t deny that it works. Every time Rafe gives Parker something you never could have provided on your own, guilt chews at you. And it’s clear that he knows it, that smug grin always dancing on his face when he catches you looking dejected. 

One of the moms in the lounge chair near yours lets out a dreamy sigh as she devours Rafe with her eyes. 

“You’re a lucky bitch, you know that? Cute son. Hot husband. What I wouldn’t give to have your life.”

Your teeth clench as you bite down every hateful word searing your tongue. From across the yard, Rafe’s icy blue eyes find yours. He beams at you. A chill travels up your spine. You look away.

“Hm…yeah. I guess I am,” you answer, casting a sour glance at the diamond ring on your finger. The gigantic rock’s shimmer is blinding as it catches the sunlight. To everyone else on Figure Eight, the fancy silver ring is a display of Rafe Cameron’s boundless love and devotion for you. It makes women green with envy. It bruises men’s egos. But you see the exorbitant blood diamond for what it is…An expensive shackle binding you to your gilded cage. A reminder that you’re trapped and there is no safe haven away from him anymore.

Rafe hasn’t failed to find little ways to make you pay since that day. Treating you like an object to satisfy his needs behind closed doors while forcing you to maintain the act of the perfect family in public. Every day you awake dreading he found another way to torment you, some fresh hell to rain upon you.

He never runs out of ways to twist the knife he buried deep within you. Again and again.

When the evening reaches its end, all the guests having vacated the house, Rafe slips behind you as you’re cleaning dishes. 

His large hands sweep over your hips and you recoil.

“Rafe…I’m…Can’t we give it a rest, just for today? I’m still sore from the other night,” you plead, desperation making your voice quake.

Before he can answer, Parker interrupts, trailing down the stairs as he yawns. 

“Daddy?” he utters drowsily. 

The little boy is sporting a brand new pajama his father got him, as he didn’t allow you to keep any of the clothes you got him over the years, calling them low quality and cheap.

He approaches your son at the bottom of the stairs and holds his shoulders, giving him a bright grin. His expression turns fond and prideful as he considers his son. The way Rafe is with his son is a sharp contrast to the way he is with everyone else. The toddler’s become the center of his universe. It nearly makes you feel guilty for hiding him. Nearly. The bruises tattooed all over your skin are a wicked reminder of who Rafe truly is.

“Daddy’s coming soon to tuck you in, okay, P?” He kisses the top of his head. “So go back to your room.”

Parker nods as he lets out another yawn. “Okay.”

“That’s my boy,” he chimes, ruffling his honey blonde curls. 

Parker hops up the stairs. When Rafe turns to you, the smile on his face vanishes.

He rushes to you, his hand shooting up to latch around your throat. His deathly grip on your neck crushes your windpipe. You look at him with wide, terrified eyes, your mouth wobbling. An expression edging on murderous decorates his handsome face. 

He snickers. “You’re sore? You think I give a fuck? I’m putting Parker to bed, then I want you waiting for me upstairs in that red lingerie set I just bought you.” He leans over you, mumbling in a low, threatening tone. “I meant what I said. You owe me four years, princess.” He licks the errant tear sliding down your cheek. “And I plan on getting every single second back.”

[grugruel]

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶

NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's

chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise

“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.

Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.

Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.

Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.

The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.

Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.

————

Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.

Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.

“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”

The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.

And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.

But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.

You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.

This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.

Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”

————

Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”

For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.

You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”

Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.

He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.

Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”

A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.

“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”

All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.

He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.

“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”

Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.

Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.

“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.

You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.

Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should. 

————

Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.

“Good morning!” you said.

“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.

You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’

“You good?”

He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”

“Ah.”

Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.

“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.

You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.

Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.

Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”

For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.

He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.

Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”

And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.

And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.

You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.

Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.

Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.

Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.

He didn’t look up from his paperwork.

Wholly ignored.

————

Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.

As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.

He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”

It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.

“I don’t mind.”

A meager response which resulted in a standoff.

Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.

On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.

“Yes.” Automatic irritation.

“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.

“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.

You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”

No reply.

In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.

And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.

Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.

The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.

You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.

————

Today was a good day.

Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.

You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.

He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.

The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.

“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.

Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”

“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”

“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.

You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.

Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.

And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.

And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.

Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.

~~~

Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.

Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.

Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.

Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.

“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”

Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”

She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.

“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.

Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.

“Whoa there, little Miss!”

You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.

Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”

“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”

Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.

As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”

Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.

But on the subject of his brunette waves..

His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.

Daughter. Family.

The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.

“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.

You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.

Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.

“Hmm, what should we draw?”

Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”

Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.

Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.

“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.

“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”

You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”

At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.

“What next? What next?”

“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”

She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”

“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.

She pointed to her elbow.

Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”

She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.

You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.

It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.

He had an entire life outside of work.

Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.

Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”

Tough crowd.

His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”

If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.

You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”

“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”

You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.

Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.

“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.

He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”

She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”

“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”

Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.

————

Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.

He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.

No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.

After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.

But he was not spared the fortune.

“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.

She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.

“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.

“I wanna play with Daddy.”

Guilt amplified the shame.

He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.

“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.

Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.

And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.

The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.

He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.

Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.

The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.

Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.

He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.

“Stay, Daddy.”

Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.

“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”

It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.

Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.

Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸❝ enhypen as hugs in specific situations❞

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst for jay, jungwon and slight for sunghoon ୨୧ warnings: none

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jungwon ✩

"you did well" hug

you sank into the sofa, swiftly burying your face in your hands. you felt as if you failed, you didn't do enough and it was honestly draining, you worked so hard, and just before you could fall into a spiral of negative thoughts, someone took a seat beside you.

"y/n," jungwon murmured softly, his hand gently grabbing your wrist, revealing your teary eyes and rosy, wet cheeks. you didn't need to say a word for him to pull you into a warm embrace. he wrapped his arms around you, one hand on your back, the other on your neck, holding you tightly. his warm breath caressed your skin as he drew close. your eyes remained shut, tears still escaping, and he closed his eyes too, pained to see you cry like this.

"you did great, you worked so hard," he whispered, giving your now-fragile body a gentle squeeze, snuggling into you and soaking in the warmth you radiated. his cheek pressed against yours. "you did wonderfully; i'm so proud of you."

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ lee heeseung 이희승 ✩

hugging while sitting on his lap

a pc bang date, you sat on heeseung's lap as he slowly lost hope during his league match. when he eventually lost it, you flashed him your lovely smile that always made him melt, saying, "let me be your support from here." you swiftly shifted to sit on his lap, causing his ears to turn red. your arms wrapped around his neck, and heeseung's hand secured your waist to prevent you from falling back. while he waited for another match, he peppered your face with kisses as a thank-you for your support. with his hand on the keyboard and his forearm brushing against your lower back as you leaned on it, you attentively watched his gameplay, rewarding each kill with a big kiss on his cheek.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ park jongseong 박종성 ✩

"you're safe" hug

hot tears streamed down your cheeks as jay wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

"it's alright," he whispered, his other hand moving to your head, gently stroking your hair. slowly, he nestled his face in the crook of your neck, always finding a way to hide his face there, regardless of your height compared to his. he began to caress your back, whispering reassuringly, "you'll be okay. i'm here. you're safe, y/n." his soft voice washed over you, conveying a sense of safety, comfort, and warmth in his tight embrace. you sobbed more, convinced that you didn't deserve such a pure-hearted person like jay. he noticed your louder cries and hugged you even tighter.

"it's okay, darling. i'm here. nothing bad will happen, okay? you're protected," he continued to whisper sweet words, unaware of how much they healed you, how much they helped, and how much you loved him.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ jake sim 제이크 심 ✩

hugging while laughing

you stood near the kitchen counter, your back leaning slightly against it, and a smile gracing your face when jake entered the room. you paused your conversation with jungwon and sunghoon to greet him, and he instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you so you were now seated on the counter. he effortlessly joined the conversation with the others. only one of your arms circled around his neck, as the other would block your view of the others. his hands rested on your thighs, gently caressing them. as sunghoon cracked a joke, jake laughed and leaned toward you, burying his face in your chest as his laughter continued. you, slightly surprised by the sudden closeness, wrapped your other arm around him and laughed as well, though your laughter was fueled by how adorable he was.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ park sunghoon 박성훈 ✩

"recharging" hug

standing in the kitchen, you heard sunghoon enter the room. without a word, you felt a firm grip on your hips as he turned you around to face him, leaving you puzzled. again, without uttering a single word, he gazed into your eyes and tugged you closer by your wrists. you fell into his arms, your face meeting his chest, as your cheek pressed against it. his hugs were gentle yet often assertive; if he wanted a hug, he would just come and claim it. you wrapped your arms around his body, tenderly caressing his back.

"everything okay, hoonie?" you inquired as he rested his chin on your head.

"just needed this," he replied, and that was enough for you to tighten your hold on him. he drew you even closer, and you stood there, hugging him for as long as he needed, listening to the beats of his heart.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ kim sunoo 김선우 ✩

"nap" hug

you leaned against his side as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. your posture change signaled that he had full permission to cuddle you as much as he wanted. now, you lay on your back with sunoo resting on your stomach, his face buried in your chest as you gently stroked his hair. a soft smile appeared on your lips as the thought of sunoo being like a teddy bear crossed your mind, but that was just how he was — adorable and huggable.

"tiring day?" you finally asked as you noticed sunoo had fallen silent. his only response was a quiet, soft hum, which answered your question better than any words. you wrapped your hands aroud him tighter, preparing for a quick nap.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ nishimura riki 西村 力 ✩

back hug

you were waiting for your order, irritated by the beeping machines in the background, being hungry just boosted your annoyance. niki noticed your impatient foot tapping and smiled. he pulled you closer, his hand securely around your waist as he moved it to your stomach, giving it a reassuring pat. you glanced at him and smiled, and he took the opportunity to turn it into a back hug. he rested his chin on your shoulder and observed how your order was being prepared. he was surprisingly strong, a fact he seemed unaware of, as he held you quite tightly, sometimes to the point that it hurt. when you complained about the tightness of his hugs, he squeezed you once more and then gradually loosened his grip, patting your stomach again while whispering, "sorry," into your ear.

requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

The emotions and glimpses of daily life of this random girl followed Lando throughout his whole. Whenever she's sad, he knows. Her celebrations sort of become his celebrations. For him, it's like breathing - just another part of his life. That is until he meets her.

soulmate au

Lando knew the moment he saw her. And it was at that point when he thought he was truly going crazy.

For his whole life, he thought it was just some fantasy that he planted in his mind in early age and was impossible to get rid off.

He froze completely. Panicked, went into fight or flight mode, these two fighting each other so hard that he just stood there, staring like a creep. Thank god she was far away enough and probably did not notice.

His second immediate reaction was anger. Did she really not notice him? The audacity? How can she roam around his brain for his whole life and then not react when she sees him? Her being in the paddock meant that she definitely knew who he was, people don't just end up by chance there.

Except maybe she did. Her outfit gave away that she was one of the medics from the medical team. Of course she would be. Saving lives, doing something proper meaningful. Not driving around in circles and making a big deal out of it, like he did. Never in his life did he feel as selfish and sort of shameful for his choice of career.

He began to insert ideas into her head, despite not having spoken a single word to her. She was probably someone who valued intelligence, people who were book smart, humble heroes in the society who were focus on dedicating their lives to saving others.

Not those who were recklessly driving around in circles. There was no way she'd see him fit to her. That was not going to stop him. Her being one of the medics provided a great opportunity. Hypochondria? So be it.

His mind was spiraling out of control.

//

For as long as he could remember, he had dreams (and something he would not dare call visions) about this one girl. As if he was watching glimpses of her life, little moments, bits and pieces. But it was almost constant. He was so used to it at this point that he found it relaxing. It was very confusing growing up. Every adult around him was freaking out when his childhood imaginary friend phase would just not go away. So once he realized that people were thinking he's weird, he just stopped talking about it. It was also a big revelation to him when he found out that other people did not have these visions in their head so intensively. When he was 17 he had an obsession phase, where he researched the fuck out of how brains worked, but nothing seemed to match. His dreams did not provide him with anything specific, no details about place, vague signs that this person he kept seeing at least lived in the same time frame as he did. It was little things he saw and felt, as if her emotions traveled to him. He'd seen her happy, laughing with friends while she tried weed for the first time, getting nervous by her exams and debating whether to brush her teeth in the evening. Her becoming a medic now finally answered few questions. Often he would wonder why was she studying so much. His blurry dreams blocking these specifics out, just to make it all more frustrating. Observing her having a crush on someone was unnerving and eventually, seeing little things from her romantic relationship, just made him supremely mad. He was glad that was over, because at one point, it had started to seriously mess up his mood. He genuinely celebrated the break up. Incredible amounts of little moments and details were conveyed to him, but no idea on where or who she was. He just had this knowledge in his head about someone who he doubted actually existed.

And now she was probably standing right across the track. It was a lot to take in.

//

Most of the medical team traveled with them, as far as Lando was aware. Never really paid that much of attention to that department until then. So he figured he's only have few days to capture her attention, she might have been local. He was already contemplating moving here to join her life, in case she was local. That's when he decided to get a full medical check up upon request.

He complained nonstop about a pain in his stomach - vague enough for many possibilities having to be ruled out.

It quickly started feeling like playing a video game. Having to jump through levels in order to get to his "boss".

He spent an hour in the medical centre, where he was taken immediately after his first comment about his fictional pain, because everyone still had in fresh memory the saga of Carlos's appendix. "This is gonna be easy" he thought to himself, because one of the first people he saw passing by was her. He was not even trying to hide when observing her. The way her hair fell out of a messy bun. A concentrated look as she was attending one of the staff members, listening attentively and taking care of their wound. The whole place seemed to glow up by her presence. He wondered how it felt when her fingertips touched the skin of another person and was almost jealous of the person she was treating. On par with his bad luck, the drivers had a dedicated doctor on-call, so he was taken to a different private room where he had to undergo a full medical scan, with of course nothing being found. When he got out, she was no longer there. All for nothing.

//

The rest of his day was covered in a brain fog, he sort of floated through the media day, feeling like he was not really there. He let Oscar totally step up to be the main star this time. As if he could give a fuck.

Over the years of having to live with this strange connection, he managed to block it out temporarily for moment when he really need to focus. This time, he was doing the exact opposite. Trying to somehow "connect" to this personal bluetooth he had in his head.

Finally, after few hours he felt something. A light wave of anxiety, as she opened her email. Then a wave of disappointment, despair and her giving up. He was more than able to not get affected by her emotions - usually. This time it was sort of in tune with his own mix of emotions, so if he was a downer before it progressed perfectly into him shutting off completely.

//

He managed to completely forget that his latest girlfriend, if that was the right word to use, was coming over. He only realized when he saw a pair of female shoes thrown by the door of his hotel room. A wave of guilt washed over him. He was being an asshole again. As they greeted each other, he tried to kiss her as much as he could, trying to avoid unnecessary conversation. Maybe this reality check was good. He often got lost in his own head, listening sad songs to fill this strange void - or he would just party too much. Now, there was a real person standing in front of him, a super hot girl who liked him and was not annoying. He figured there was no point in drowning in his own delusions.

Letting her fuck his brains out worked, at least until the next morning.

part 2

[selene-writes]

You-Me-Us

AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.

You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."

Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.

You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.

As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.

Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 

Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.

A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.

You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.

You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.

“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.

You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.

The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”

Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”

The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”

[selarina]

Synopsis: You're mad at Gojo, and he spirals.

Warnings: Mention of a fire

Getou doesn’t feel like hanging out today, but he shows up anyway — it’s routine after all, and he doesn’t want to deal with a whiny Gojo Satoru, especially since he doesn’t have you to split the burden with today.

Summoning a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Getou walks into the threshold of Satoru's house.

He looks around the house and nothing. No one.

But something felt out of place. Satoru always seems to sense when Getou walks in, and he would be out the door just as quickly as he walked in, he’d be out at this new restaurant, or this new arcade Gojo wanted to check out. But today, he's met with silence.

"Satoru?" Getou called out, his voice echoing through the cavernous house, only to be greeted by the eerie emptiness.

A tinge of panic brushes its touch against Getou's hand. "Satoru, where are you?" he called out once more.

Some rumbling and soft sounds of several thuds emanate from above him. Without hesitation, Getou ascends the stairs, driven by an insidious sense of unease.

Upon entering the library upstairs, he was met with an odd sight.

An assortment of books lay scattered across the floor, each laying at different stages of unraveling — while most of them are closed, some of them lay open — some open on the last page, some halfway through, and some open to the first page. 

Then, amidst this chaos on the floor, Getou spots the white blur of hair through his peripheral vision. He turns, finding Satoru, who seems to be very intently jotting down something in a black notebook, seemingly oblivious to his presence in the room.

“Satoru, I called for you?”

Satoru looks up, caught off guard — something must be truly wrong.

“Suguru! Today’s no good. I’m busy,” he replied, his eyes immediately flitting back down to his notebook.

Getou thinks he should thread this lightly, he’s all too familiar with the boy’s ability to brush things off entirely too quickly. His eyes roved the scene — going over the balls of discarded papers, the books, and the plate of lunch that seemed to be untouched.

"Uh," Getou began, inching closer to the boy with his hands in his pockets. He's weaving his steps across the slew of books — careful to not step on any of them. "What are you up to?"

No response at all, it’s like Suguru isn’t even here.

Suguru bends down, picking up the nearest book on the floor — an austere hardbound volume with golden lettering, bearing the title "Time Travel in Einstein's Universe." His fingers gently placed it down, only to lift another book, paper this time — it read "How to Build a Time Machine: The Real Science of Time Travel."

Standing upright, still holding the book, Getou asks, "Satoru, why are you reading about time travel? No, better question — how come you’re… reading?”

"I'm trying to time travel," Gojo replied with an unsettling nonchalance, as though he was merely discussing matters of the weather.

A few beats pass, mainly because Suguru was deciding between a simple  “Why?” and a more emphatic “What the hell?”

But because Suguru is Suguru, and he’s been equipped with the art of patience, he oppted for a measured, “I don’t think you can do that.” He makes sure to punctuate his sentence with a faint chuckle. 

"I need to," Satoru asserts, standing up as his eyes scan the floor for another book.

"Pretty sure no one can change time," Getou countered. "Not even us."

"We could," Satoru insisted, his voice unwavering. "Maybe—if we tried hard enough." His gaze then locks into Getou's, his conviction unwavering. “We are the strongest after all.”

Getou decides to indulge this because he’s just far too curious. "All right," he began cautiously. "Why do you need to time travel anyway?"

"You know how my partner is upset with me?" Satoru asked.

"Yeah," Getou replied, a weariness permeating his voice — he vividly recalls Satoru's relentless whining on the subject from the previous night. He eventually got the boy to shut up, only for him to start all over today morning — it’s part of the reason he didn’t feel like hanging out today, but you’ll never catch him saying this out loud.

"Well, if I reversed time," Gojo continued with an unnerving grin, "then they'd never be upset with what I did. Problem solved!"

Getou feels the sudden urge to chew on a notebook to satiate his frustration. “Are you serious?” he asks.

“Deadly.”

"Satoru," he snatched the notebook from Satoru's table—the very notebook the latter had been intently writing in. His eyes find themselves looking at a plethora of mathematic equations he doesn’t understand. He sighs, looking up at the man.

“Do you know anything that can help? Help me, please,” Satoru implored, his head bobbing fervently.

Getou thinks that this is surely the height of insanity. Surely, someone needs to lock Gojo Satoru up.

Speechless, Getou succumbs to laughter — like a total madman. 

He dials it down as he notices Satoru’s escalating exasperation with him. He spoke again, “You’re an idiot. How about you actually apologize to them instead of doing… whatever this is.” 

He tosses the notebook back to Satoru, who catches it with a swift, outstretched hand.

—

“Please, stop!” He rushes behind you, as Getou trails right behind him. “Stop avoiding me please or I’ll die.”

“Wow, you really are like those high-maintenance plants,” you quip as you come to a stop, finally turning to lay your eyes on the boy. 

"I'm not..." He totally is. 

“Glad to see you’re not too torn up about our fight since you’re out here at an arcade,” you say, sarcasm dripping to the floor beneath you, just a few more missteps, and Gojo could slip and fall everlastingly.

“No! I was very upset. Ask Getou,” he points to the man, who simply nods in tandem. He starts again, "Can we please please just talk this out? I'm really sorry."

"Oh? Are you?" you questioned, skepticism etched into your features. "Is that why you ghosted me for a whole week?"

"I got scared," he admits. "I thought you'd leave me."

“I considered that,” you reply, arms crossed.

His eyes widen, and you think he looks like a kicked puppy. But this was a serious matter, and you suppressed the urge to ruffle his hair.

"See—now I want to run away, so you never will," he whimpered. "But I won't, because I'm genuinely sorry, I mean it."

You stared at him, the genuineness in his eyes catching your weary gaze. You had been tired all week. Finally, you relented.

"Fine," you sigh. "Let's talk it out."

"Okay! Thank you baby!" he says, an immediate smile spreading across his face. 

"See? I told you it's not a big deal—" Getou began, his smile mirroring Satoru's. However, he falls silent when he noticed your changing expression.

“Not a big deal?” You exclaim, clearing seething with a bubbling anger. It’s seemingly a harmless sentence but something in you must have broken down at the sound of that.

"I-I mean, it's not a big deal because I'll fix it, and everything will be fine," Satoru's voice stammers through.

"It's not all going to be just fine, Satoru. You burned down my house," you stated.

“I burned down your kitchen,” he corrects you.

“Wow, I’m sorry I don’t know why I was making such a big deal. It’s only my kitchen!” You start to chuckle, a deranged sense of amusement escaping your lips as you turn to Getou, “Do you hear that Suguru? It’s only my kitchen, he says.”

Suguru gulps, not wanting to be more involved in this than he was. He turns his head away, only now noticing that everyone’s watching the scene unfold like it’s their favorite telenovela. “Guys, maybe let’s not do this here.”

"Yeah, I was done here anyway," you declared, shooting a final glare at Satoru before making a swift exit.

Satoru immediately chased after you, throwing himself out the arcade's door.

“Baby, please!” He finally comes to grip your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You look up at him, and he notices you carry no malice really — just a weariness that shows in your tired tired eyes, he feels the urge to take you home, so he can run his hands over your eyes and put you to sleep. So he can finally sleep beside you himself.

“I’m sorry, Getou’s an idiot. It is a big deal. I never should have done that. It was obviously an accident but I was just trying to be nice, and obviously… that didn’t work out as I planned. And of course, I’ll fix the kitchen, I’ll pay for everything — even add in upgrades if you want. And before you say anything… this is on me. I should pay,” he says.

"I was going to make you pay anyway. What were you even trying to do in my kitchen?"

"Well," he began with a sheepish look on his face, almost ashamed. "It was our anniversary, and wanted to make you something."

“Why would you do that? You can barely boil rice,” you sigh, your eyes coming up to soothe your forehead.

“I-I don’t know. You mentioned how your ex-boyfriend made your food all the time when you guys were together so I thought you’d like that.”

“Yeah, well. Osamu was a chef, and you’re the opposite of that,” you replied, your arms encircling his in a soothing grip.

He sighed, gazing out at the street — his eyes staring down at the passing cars before speaking once more, “It’s not just that.”

"What then?" you inquired.

“I’m not good at this,” he confesses.

You maintained your steady gaze, urging him to continue.

“At this — Romance,” he clarifies. “I can’t do it so I’m always looking and copying others. I only leave you notes because you do that. I only give you keychains because Getou does that with his boyfriend. I only knew I had to invite you to work when Nanami mentioned it. I just—”

You hummed softly, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t know how to love. It’s part of the reason why I even tried to cook. You’re so good at loving me, I can’t ever pay you back for it.”

“Satoru, you’re good at it too,” you say. “Just not in the ways I am, or Getou, or Nanami. You’re good at it in your own way. It’s about how you know when to order in when I’m feeling tired. It’s about how you pick out the stones I like for the keychains. It’s about how you showed up all the way to my Switzerland work trip when I was on the verge of a fucking mental breakdown. It’s about how you always draw something hideous when you leave notes knowing I’ll find it funny when I’m back from work. It’s about you trying in the first place,” you say.

"The drawings are supposed to be cute," he mumbled.

“I know you think that,” you chuckled softly. “And besides, I only leave notes because my mother did that for my father. We all learn from someone.”

A moment of silence enveloped you both, broken only by your gradual approach. “You can teach me, and I can teach you. If you let me.”

He sighed, enfolding you in a tight hug.

“Also, as much I appreciate the effort now, I hope you know you’re banned from my kitchen,” you mumble across his chest.

“Okay, I’ll learn how to cook though,” he says. “For you.”

“Okay,” you say. 

[ninibeingdelulu]

— headcanons ft. leon kennedy

You met Leon when he was just a rookie cop fresh out of the academy before that nightmarish first day in Raccoon sent both your lives spiraling into chaos and tragedy. Despite the hellish circumstances, you formed an unbreakable bond fueled by sheer survival instinct.

After the dust settled and you both made it out alive by the skin of your teeth, neither of you knew how to resume any semblance of normalcy. The trauma lingered too viscerally beneath the surface, casting long shadows even during peaceful moments.

In Leon you found a kindred spirit haunted by the same waking nightmares - one who understood the primal, animalistic panic of being stalked and eviscerated by unholy bio-weapons. He may have started as just a well-meaning if slightly naive rookie, but the hardened survivor who emerged from Raccoon's ruins began mirroring your own instincts for self-preservation at any cost.

At first, you kept any intimacies strictly physical and detached, both of you desperately chasing oblivion between the sheets. Losing yourselves to sweat-slicked passion became the only way to escape the pervasive horrors replaying on a constant loop in your psyches.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, those ravenous encounters gradually softened around the edges. Harsh, bruising grips eased into caresses. Frantic, selfish movements gave way to tenderness and consideration for the other's pleasure. Until eventually, Leon's usual rigid exterior would crack just enough to expose the frightened, damaged young man beneath after you'd spent yourselves into breathless exhaustion.

It became your mission to bear witness to those fleeting shards of vulnerability, no matter how quickly he'd shutter them away again post-coitus. You ached to remind him - and yourself in turn - that he was still worthy of gentleness despite the serrated-edge of cynicism he armored himself with.

These days, you share a modest apartment together. A sanctuary, however temporary it might be before the next crisis summons one or both of you into the field again. Leon keeps most of his gear meticulously organized near the door for a quick getaway, ever vigilant. But you've introduced small creature comforts amidst the Spartan decor - lush blankets to cocoon you both, scented candles, tasteful art prints to humanize your den.

He no longer startles awake in a cold sweat with a bellow of terror or panic thanks to your steadying presence curled protectively around him. You've learned to wake him with soothing words and the lightest touch through the night terrors lest his primed instincts kick in first. That stoicism remains, of course, but gradually you've helped him find more ease between the lulls of combat.

Leon rarely initiates physical intimacy first unless freshly separated after a deployment when the ache for closeness simply overwhelms him. But once you run exploratory hands over his sculpted body, his restraint crumbles into fevered need to clutch you flush against him. Possessive. Basking in every inch of warm, living flesh without threat of imminent violence.

He's mastered peeling away your clothing with a tantalizing, unhurried lack of urgency born from long experience now. Reveling in the journey and not just the destination, savoring every exposed swell of skin with hushed murmurs and feather-light kisses until you squirm and writhe beneath his doting attention.

While Leon has grown more vocal during these hushed liaisons when his guard erodes completely, he still struggles to outwardly proclaim those three weighted words defining your bond. You don't need them, though. His actions damn sure speak louder - in the protective steel banding his arms around you from behind, the single-minded focus devouring your curves for any sign of injury or imperfection, the ragged whispers muffled against the sweat-dampened nape of your neck each time you both crest with shared euphoria.

Deep down, beneath the chiseled mask of lethal pragmatism branded by combat and unspeakable horror...Leon S. Kennedy remains a romantic at his core, hopelessly tender and relishing the simple sanctuary you represent after years of turmoil. So he holds you close through the nightmares, inhales your comforting scent amidst the choking stench of death, and reminds himself there's still some flicker of humanity worth fighting for time and again.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Silent treatment

You all seem to love the smut sooo I decided why not get ✨extra✨ smutty and give you something else(; MINORS DNI

Synopsis: Harry’s a billionaire. He’s been working 24/7 not giving you any attention like you often experience with him… one day he comes home and expects you to be all lovey dovey only to learn that you’re ignoring him… one way or another he’ll have to get your attention and earn it.

Trigger warnings: dominant harry, slight aggression, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, p in v, C word, edging, denial, orgasm control, degrading, kinda mean! Harry just general smutty things

©️Please do not copy or translate my work

“I’m home” his voice was loud and clear as it echoed around the silent home, usually there would be music playing or the tv on but there was nothing… only silence… “baby?” He questioned looking around “sweetheart where are you?” He checked the living room, kitchen, bathroom before headed upstairs checking all of upstairs before finding you in your and his shared bedroom “there you are my love,” he spoke with a smile gazing at you. You laid on the bed wearing a silk robe that barely covered your nude body— he stared at you, watching you read the story, him watching as your fingertips began turning the pages little by little and soon he was noticing that you were blatantly ignoring him. His brows furrowed slightly “earth to y/n?” He wore a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and black trousers to match it, his hands soon resting on his hips “alright what’s going on?” He questioned watching as your eyes eventually moved to look at him, only earning an eye roll from you before you looked back at your book.

He slowly walked closer to you before stopping just beside the bed staring down at you “you know I can get you to talk… and when I make you talk… force you to talk to me I won’t stop.” His words were menacing, underlined with a certain dangerous tone but you still continued to ignore him. He was never aggressive with you, even in bed he was rarely aggressive or even vicious but that all changed rather suddenly. He perched on the edge of the bed as he stared at you, before slowly tracing his fingertip from your exposed thigh and up to the inner seam of the nightgown that barely covered you, before with his free hand he snatched the book from you making your lips part your brows furrowing as you grew slightly annoyed before trying to snatch the book back with a few huffs and grunts only for him to toss the book onto the floor, his hand then effortlessly grabbing onto both your wrists and pinning your wrists down above your head a small gasp coming from your mouth and he stared down at you with a small smirk

“Now will you tell me what’s earned me the treatment of being ignored?” He questioned raising his brows watching as you just stared at him silently yet some excitement lingered in your eyes showing you liked where this was going, but at the same time you had no clue what he was going to do to you. You felt his free hand trace shapes into your inner thigh a shaky breath coming from you as he kept his eyes on you, before his finger trailed to your aching heat that was gradually growing wetter and wetter just from the thoughts spiralling round your head. He slowly dipped his fingertip in between your pussy lips using his index finger and thumb to slowly part them as he gazed down at you watching as you wriggled slightly a small whine coming from your lips “oh… that’s what makes you weak?” He mused with a evident smirk before he hummed still keeping a hold of your wrists not allowing you to move as he soon thrusted his long slender finger into your tight cunt, the gruelling and punishing pace of his finger thrusting in and out of you constantly at such a perfect angle making his finger touch against your G-spot over and over again, watching your reactions— all of them— the way you threw your head back and panted struggling to stay quiet as moans and whines came from you.

Soon he slipped in a second finger as he curled both fingers deep within your tight heat, your hips jolting weakly as eventually you couldn’t help but cry out his name his thumb drawing slow circles against your clit forcing your hips to buck over and over, the pleasure forcing the sounds and cries from you as you moaned his name. “There we go… not so quiet after all hm? Told you, you couldn’t stay quiet. I know how to make you tick.” His lips curled upwards in a small grin as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. The pace of his fingers and the delicate curl of his fingers that drove you utterly insane had your walls clenching down around his fingers over and over again, and upon hearing your moans and whines grow louder and the way your walls massaged his fingers and twitched against them he didn’t stop- no- he continued going

“You want to cum, hm?” He cooed to you watching as you nodded “oh yeah? Yeah I’m sure you do darling… do you think you deserve to cum?” He continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you keeping up the quick pace watching as you nodded pathetically before he without much warning pulled his fingers from your drenched hole. “Well, I beg to differ sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.” He spoke simply as you whined and whimpered, your thighs trembling ever so slightly.

“If you talk to me I’ll let you cum.” He spoke teasingly and you whimpered “why, were you giving me the silent treatment, hm?” He asked softly but he had a pretty good idea. “Is it because you’re a fucking slut in need of a good fucking?” His words made you whimper and you nodded your head over and over again “oh is that so you naughty girl” he chuckled softly “please- please need to cum.. need to feel good… please Harry… please..” he tutted slightly as he stared at you before he slowly let go of your hands but your wrists remained weakly laid against the pillow, before he slowly leaned in closer to you “no.” He spoke softly as he shook his head, denying you of it before he stood up from the bed analysing you- studying all of you before he smirked slightly

“Roll over. Onto your tummy.” He demanded, watching as you just remained still and he stared at you unimpressed “three, two–“ and finally you obeyed rolling onto your tummy. He then knelt down onto the bed his large hands slowly stroking over your ass cheeks slowly and gently “you want my attention…. Is that your issue? Needy for my attention and love?” He spoke watching you nod and he hummed “use your words.” He demanded. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cried out and he smiled “right…” he trailed off hands continuing to stroke against your ass cheeks gently, the silence deafening as he remained silent for a few moments before finally bringing his hand down against your ass cheek smacking your ass hard, the harshness of it leaving a very visible red handprint as you whimpered Harry doing the exact same thing again in the same exact place making you moan “oh my pretty girl likes being spanked does she? Oh of course you do. Such a dirty pathetic slut.”

You moaned heavily as he continued to slap your ass multiple times, before he aimed his hits from where your asscheek met your thigh- slapping against the little crease watching as you jumped, only for a moan and cry to leave your lips, Harry chuckling softly “oh such a good girl hm?” His light spanks continued raining down against your skin until your ass was almost bright red. He smoothed his hands against the marks against your ass and smiled listening to you whimper as he soothed the stinging skin, but that didn’t last long as without much warning he pulled you so your hips were dangling off of the edge of the bed, and he easily flipped you around so you were now looking at him “harry please I need to cum. Please.. I can’t take it anymore..” you moaned out desperately.

“Y/n… I want you to beg me… beg me and maybe I’ll let you cum this time.” He spoke and you nodded fervently “don’t stop begging.” He spoke simply before his lips and tongue attached to your clit, beginning to suck the bud in between his lips suckling against it as he flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves watching as your hips twitched desperately a cry leaving your lips as you panted “please! Please! I want to cum! Please! I’ll be a good girl for you! Please!” You began begging over and over again, mindlessly, not thinking straight as the pleasure overwhelmed your head your breathing heavy as you squeezed your eyes shut your walls clenching around nothing as he continued to lather his tongue all over your hungry pussy. As his tongue continued teasing against your clit, he lifted his head stopping the pleasure making you cry out “shhh…. Y/n reach down. Fuck yourself with your fingers.” Harry demanded and as if a puppeteer was controlling your hand you dipped your hand down to your aching pussy. He watched as your fingers began thrusting deep within your cunt over and over again your hips jerking as your moans grew louder, he just watched as you toyed with yourself, his hand drawing circles into your clit as you continued moaning desperately. You were a mess for him and Harry loved it… he loved how messy you were for him and as your moans grew louder and he watched your pussy clenched around your fingers he quickly grabbed your wrist forcing it to halt, stopping your movement

“How badly do you need to cum?” He spoke teasingly, and you whimpered “so bad please… please… I’ll let you do anything… please!” Harry’s cock twitched in his pants and he clenched his jaw slightly before humming “good response.” He then pulled your hand from your pussy and instead replaced it with his own, his long fingers pumping in and out of you at a merciless pace as his tongue and lips began toying with your clit as screams of euphoria began leaving your lips, your sensitive clit even more sensitive from him toying with it his movement remaining fast as your body reacted to each feeling “c’mon.. c’mon… cum on my fingers… c’mon… cum right fucking now” he demanded watching you come undone right beneath him, your jaw slackening as you tilted your head back your breathing heavy as a sharp moan left your lips your hips bucking into his mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm a slight bead of sweat on your forehead as you panted your eyes rolled back into the back of your head your breathing fast as you tried to calm yourself down.

Harry’s fingers eventually halted but he didn’t pull them out only curling them slowly into you over and over again constantly playing with you “you want my cock?” He asked you knowing how fuzzy your hearing was, but still you nodded desperately and he chuckled “oh my pathetic sweet darling…” he hummed out “so needy for my cock. Want me to fucking overstimulate you hm? Until you’re screaming… until you’re messy? Yeah? Oh I’ll do that just for you.” He hummed out the lewd words only turning you on further, hearing the sound of material hitting the floor before feeling his hard cock press just between your thighs, the tip of his cock teasing against your pussy lips before he began edging himself in, letting out a low groan as he began slowly fucking into you, little by little until his hips were pressed against yours, rocking lightly against you as you moaned in pleasure his moans and groans soft as he lowered his head down taking your nipple between his lips as he swirled his tongue around it, nipping at it gently as your hips bucked into his. He was ravenous for you.

Soon he had kissed you deeply just as he picked up the pace, thrusting in and out of you at a merciless pace your lips parted against his as you groaned into his mouth, crying out in pleasure, Harry taking that as his chance as he slipped his tongue into your mouth— the both of you making out as he fucked you long and hard. Eventually he pulled back from the kiss, leaving a gentle but long line of saliva trailing from both your lips before it snapped and faded away as he leaned his head back, his thrusts grew harder and faster the sound of skin hitting against skin and lewd sounds echoing around the room being the only thing heard before eventually his hips jolted as you both orgasmed, his thrusts being slightly sloppy as he moaned before he kissed you again deeply keeping his lips pressed against yours as he breathed heavily, before finally pulling back “fuck… such a good girl… fucking hell… knows how to make me feel good hm…” he began trailing kisses against your neck, remaining inside of you as he just laid against your naked body, both of you nude and sweaty as he gripped onto you, his kissing soothing and loving his breathing slowly calming down before he let out a soft hum “I love you so much… but don’t ever ignore me again…” he chuckled out softly “or do… I quite liked this.” He spoke with a small smirk and you smiled lazily, leaning up to kiss his lips “I love you too…”

You both stayed in that position for a while, Harry allowing your tight pussy to massage his cock in the best ways. He could’ve stayed with you like this forever… in fact he intended to. When he fucked you like this he knew you weren’t just made for him but your body was made for him too.. maybe he was far too possessive but you were all his and he wouldn’t ever get bored of fucking you ruthlessly over and over.

[d4yl1ghts]

soft

alex karev x fem!reader

summary: evil spawn isn’t so evil when he discovers you struggling in a closet

warnings: panic attack

-

You were a new intern at Seattle Grace and today you had been chosen to help perform in your first surgery. You were extremely excited but your overall emotion was nerves. What if you messed up? What if the patient died? What if you kill the patient? You knew you were overthinking it but you couldn’t help the spiral of your thoughts. You knew you were a good surgeon, it was a simple procedure that you had practiced many times in med school. This was easy.

All week you had been stressing over it. You would say dreading it but you were looking forward to it but you were just so anxious.

And that is what lead you to hiding in the nearest janitor’s closet whilst tears welled up in your eyes. You were supposed to be heading down to the OR in five minutes but you needed a moment to collect yourself. With your mind racing, you paced around the tiny area with out falling over the cleaning supplies.

Bailey had sent Alex or ‘evil spawn’ to come and find you as you were due in the OR now. He had paged you and told you to go to the OR but he was yet to see you. Meanwhile, you were taking deep breaths and then you left the closet. On your way to OR 3, you stumbled upon Alex who seemed to notice your nervous demeanour. “Are you alright, Bambi?”, he questioned with genuine concern laced in his voice. The nickname had developed when you knocked into him on your first day and spilt your water all over him. He obviously being evil spawn didn’t take it too well but he eventually got over it.

“Yep, I’m fine.”, you said in a hushed voice as you struggled to breathe properly. “You don’t sound it.”, he stated. “Come here.”, he guided you into another closet. “Take some deep breaths, follow me, 1… 2… 3…”, he continued as you tried to follow him. He only noticed you getting worse as more tears began to stream down your face and your breathing fastened.

“Okay, okay, look at me, baby.”, he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. He then repeated his breathing steps for you to follow. “In through your nose and out through your mouth. Well done.”

Never in a million years would you have expected Alex Karev to be so good at comforting someone. Right now he was so not living up to his nickname. When you had calmed down, you slowly got up. “Thank you so much, Alex. It genuinely means so much.”, you thanked him awkwardly.

“No problem, anyway, should we head off to perform the surgery now?”, he questioned. He realised your face had become full of nerves again. He cupped your cheeks and stated with certainty: “You can do this, you’re one of the best interns here, maybe even the best. You’ll pass this with flying colours, trust me.”

You smiled at him and your cheeks started blazing. You loved how sweet and gentle he was with you. Also, you couldn’t deny his good looks but you couldn’t give him the ego boost. However, one thing that would damage his ego is the news that evil spawn has a soft spot.

Who knew Alex Karev would have gone soft for an anxious girl in need of some guidance?

[silvermarley]

Hi, gorgeous! 💐🏃‍♂️

Hope you have a great day!

Can i request brothers reaction (or just Mammon lol) on them shouting on MC (after hard day or smthng) when MC just wanted some of their attention?

Not me all the time, of course not 🤡

If you're not okay with it, or just don't want to do it, it's okay)

The Eldest Brothers lashing out when MC wanted attention

Warnings: angsty to comfort, cursing, hints of insecurity (Levi)

A/N: I’m a sucker for comfort what can I say 🤭 but I hope all is well, dear anon!

Lucifer:

It’s safe to say this man is overworked, and that’s putting it lightly. He works himself to exhaustion almost daily. Today was no different. Other than the stressful time he had this particular day.

Being his adoring lover, you knew how he was. You knew he could get caught up in his work. But sometimes you wanted his attention. Attention that he couldn’t give you when he was nose-deep in paperwork.

You were sitting on the couch next to his desk in his familiar office. A usual routine.

Due to his lack of attention on you tonight, you couldn’t help but feel starved of it. You began trying to convince Lucifer to just take a break. To go to sleep with you as it was pretty late into the night at this point.

At first he would say “Not now, MC.” or something along those lines. But then you began to prod at him to leave his work. And something just.. snapped eventually.

“MC, could you not hound me about this? Just go to bed, I’ll be there eventually.” His voice was louder than he meant for it to be as he slammed his pen on his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Your heart drops at his tone of voice and his words. Without another word, you rush out the office and to his room. You always slept there most nights. Against your better judgement, you still wanted to sleep there tonight. You finally let some tears flow out as you lay down to your side in the soft bed. The thoughts of how stupidly needy you were and how he shouted at you spiraled in your head.

Lucifer would stare at his half-done paperwork, frowning to himself after you left. He wished he conveyed what he said differently. That he didn’t fuss at you for simply wanting attention from your boyfriend. Moments pass, and he would finally step away from his work for the night. Pushing his chair from the desk, he gets up and walks towards his bedroom.

Seeing you facing away from the door on his bed, he noted that your shoulders shook. He gently closed the door and immediately sat on the edge of the bed next to where you were laying.

“I.. didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I’ve just had a rather stressful day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” His gloved hand sets itself on your arm.

The same hand slowly lifts the back of your hand to his lips where he then places a light kiss on it. “I’m sorry, dear..”

You would then meet his gaze, and seeing your glazed over eyes hurt his heart. “‘m sorry for pestering you.. I-I just wanted you to get some rest with me.”

He slides into bed behind you, cuddling you as you wanted. “No need for apologies. I should be taking time off my work to spend more time with you. I’ll try my best to see that happen.”

Lucifer pulls the blanket over the two of you. “Let me pamper you the way you deserve, yes?”

Mammon:

His day was rough. He had been tied to the ceiling for multiple hours as punishment from Lucifer. Not only that, but he wasn’t getting very lucky with his gambles.

You had noticed he was very dismissive of you. He wasn’t in his usual mischievous mood. Throughout the day you would try to get him to pay attention to you.

At one point, he just let it out. It was when he was out, cooling off from the events of the day. You had called him, wanting to know when he’d be home so he could hang out. He was still heated because of the losses and irritated at being tied up earlier.

When he picked up the phone after being so distant throughout the day only to hear you asking a multitude of questions, he shouted, “Dammit, I don’t need this right now! Can’t a guy be alone for two seconds?!”

The other side of the phone goes quiet. You were surprised and hurt at how he responded. You leave it at that and hang up.

Mammon looks at the “call ended” text on screen. After letting his frustration out, he just felt horrible. He shouldn’t have said that. “Shit..”

He rushes home, hoping you are willing to hear him out. The demon steps into your room to see your knees being held close to your chest and your head laying on your knees. He never wants to make you upset. And that’s just what he did.

“MC?” He starts, nervously sitting next to you on your bed.

You don’t look at him. He looks at the ground. “Look.. i shouldn’t have yelled at ya. It’s just that today hasn’t been on my side,”

He glances back to you. “And I’m sorry I said all that because of it..” Mammon wants the best at words, but you knew he was sincere.

You sniffle, eyes darting to him. He’s saddened by the fact he made you like this all because he couldn’t hold his irritation in. He feels like a scumbag.

He leans back, offering his lap to you with open arms. He’d understand if you don’t want this, though. “C’mere treasure.. lemme make up for it.”

Mammon smiled a little when you climbed into his lap and laid your head on his shoulder. He places sweet kisses on your face. He made sure every moment that night was spent worshipping and praising you.

Leviathan:

It’s not too often Levi lashes out at you. He’s incredibly serious about his games. Typically that doesn’t change how he acts with you and it doesn’t bother him when you’re there with him sitting in his lap or something.

Today, he had lost a pretty big tournament in one of his games. He became mad at himself and at the loss.

You came into his room, wanting his attention. “Leviii, you haven’t come out of your room all day!” You complained, to which you were met with an annoyed Levi.

“Well no shit! I just lost this month’s tournament! Do you really think I’d be happy?” He shut his mouth after speaking so unusually loud.

Levi watched as you left. God, how could he be so stupid? You were just concerned about him and he yelled at you.

He left his room for the first time since he lost. Feeling guilty as he went to apologize. He just hoped you wouldn’t hate him now. Though he would not blame you if you did, seeing as he’s just a yucky otaku.

He looked all around the HOL for you, and found you in the living room. You weren’t facing his way, but he was sure it wasn’t good. The demon hesitantly stood next to where you were sitting. He didn’t want to see you like this. But he needed to apologize for his behavior.

Levi fumbled with his fingers and at the cuff of his jacket anxiously. “M-Mc?” He began, hoping you’d listen.

When you didn’t look up, he frowned to himself and continued despite his urge to sulk in his room. “I’m sorry for lashing out.. I-It’s just— I lost a tournament that was important to me.”

You look up at him, not entirely forgiving him. He smiled awkwardly. “And I know that’s no excuse to have done what i did..” Levi lowered to his knees, and shakily took both ur hands in his own.

If you looked close enough, you might see him getting misty-eyed. “I-I’m really glad you checked on me, even though I lashed out when you did..” He looked down ashamed, “And I’m sorry, MC. Can you forgive a worthless otaku like me?”

You gave it a thought, and squeezed his hands. He perked up his gaze to you. “I forgive you.” It was a short and simple response, but Levi felt so much joy hearing it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” He hugs your waist from where he was on his knees. His hug only tightened when you brushed your fingers through his hair.

After a bit of silence he talks again, “Can we maybe.. watch a show together? It can be anything you want.. I’ll even get your favorite snacks.”

And that, you did. He made sure that he would make it known the rest of the day how much he is thankful you forgave him. For you, you got the attention you desired.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

since I’m drawing more of them, here is a bit of background for my x2 Prowler PunkFlower AU (mix of comic and animated canon and my own delulu):

- Hobart started out in a life of crime because he felt trapped by his circumstances (this follows the comic canon, he is the youngest of 9 siblings, but his dad left early, mom was an alcoholic, and eventually even his big brother left. Even though he was a tech genius, he struggled to make a living). Then after his right hand was injured after a job for Kingpin, he was saved by Peter (let’s say in Earth 42 Peter is not Spiderman, instead he runs a company.. which is also comic canon at one point).

Parker Industry gave him a prosthetic and provided a healthier environment for Hobart to grow, they sponsor him to be a kind of vigilante to keep the city safe (again, this is a bit based on the comic canon, but in the comics he was paralyzed from the waist down for a while, he also worked for Parker Industry for some time).

- For Miles G. after his father died, there was a time when he lost his direction in life. He was haunted by the fact that he could not protect Jeff. Earth 42 is already chaotic, he doesn’t know how to protect his mother (since Uncle Aaron also has his own business and can’t stay with them all the time).

- One night when he was walking back home, Miles was stopped by a robber, normally he could protect himself, but that day his mind was spiraling so badly and before he knew it, he was cornered. That's when Prowler saved him.

- Hobart was just on duty, the alley was dark so he couldn't see the other boy very well, he just turned his back to tie up the robber and told Miles to go home, it's very dangerous here.

- At that time, the Prowler symbol on the back of Hobart’s jacket seemed to engrave itself in the back of Miles’ eyelids - a call to fight, a call to protect. He made a decision then.

- Miles immediately ran to Uncle Aaron and told him of his intention to be a vigilante. Aaron was hesitant at first, but Miles said that if he didn't train him, he would go find the Prowler himself and ask him for help. Aaron was worried that Miles would be taken advantage of by others, so he accepted to train and help him create tech.

- After a while, the two of them started blowing things up left and right in Brooklyn with Miles as the new Prowler, that was when Hobart realized that there was another guy running around in his symbol (there is a whole theme in the comics where Hobie’s Prowler gears keep being stolen by other ppl to impersonate him 😭)

- He thought about telling the boy to stop, but seeing Miles punching criminals, confronting villains who are many times bigger than him yet was still not afraid, Hobart became… curious? Want to know who that person is, why do they do this.

- Of course, when they meet, Hobart still asked Miles to not to carry his logo around, but Miles stubbornly argued that anyone can be a symbol, and he would not dishonour this one.

- In general, Hobart was impressed with Miles, but it took some time for both of them to gradually trust each other. After more than half a year, Hobart took the initiative to tell Miles his true identity, Miles then also took him to meet his uncle.

- After the two became closer, Miles began to help Hobart repair and maintain his prosthetic. Hobart also began to doubt his future in Parker Industry. He had never liked to be confined to a system, and although Peter helped him a lot, he still wanted to be his own person, fought for his own ideals. So as soon as Miles and Hobart were able to fix his prosthetic on their own, Hobart left Parker Industry and moved in with Miles.

- They started dating after 2 years of knowing each other (Aaron thanked heaven and earth that his nephew finally stopped blue-ball that Hobart boy, his head hurt every time he has to witness their awkward flirting 😭😭), when Miles G. met Miles 1610, he and Hobart had been officially dating for a few months.

So basic timeline: first meeting Miles G. was 13 / Hobart was 15 -> worked together as Prowlers team at 14 / 16 -> Hobart left Parker Industry / they started dating when Miles is 15 and Hobart is 17 -> meet Miles 1610.

Well that’s all for now, so when I draw that AU it’s based on that groundwork. Cheers!