#to make up for it he asked again a few months later

[bpmiranda]

Fic idea for Hugh ready is needy for her man and they're in a new relationship they're taking things slow ofc but she doesn't want to be too overbearing but he knew all along and loves it just as much

Take It Slow (Hugh Jackman) nsfw

A/N: purely fictional, age gap, f!reader in her early 20s, hugh is 55, fluffy, smut, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex

It has been about six months since you and Hugh connected on the set of Deadpool and Wolverine. You were a makeup artist, incredibly wide eyed and always so very flustered around Hugh. Something Ryan had noticed and it was the Deadpool actor that put a bug in Hugh’s ear about asking you out. “She’s quite young for someone like me, pal.” Hugh had said with a light laugh, looking over at you as you were setting up your station for him.

It was almost inevitable, however. You were incredibly charming once you got past your initial bouts of shyness. Hugh loved how he was able to make you laugh, how he was able to have a conversation with you despite the age gap. “Speaking of,” Hugh redirected the conversation as you gently wiped the fake blood off his face. “Do you like coffee?” He asked and you felt your cheeks warm up as you nodded, growing shy once again because Hugh Jackman was asking you about coffee. You were young, but you knew exactly what that meant.

Six months later, you were tangled in a quite passionate relationship. You knew you were the clingy type of girlfriend, it was something your exes had never failed to make you feel bad about, but Hugh didn’t seem to mind. Of course, you were toning it way down seeing as you didn’t want to come off overbearing. The two of you had agreed to take it slow considering he had just gone through a divorce and he didn’t want the press to begin running wild stories about you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got an interview today, but my day’s pretty much clear after that.” Hugh called as you were brushing your teeth in his bathroom. You had spent the night for the first time. “Do you want to run and grab some breakfast with me?”

You want to say yes, but you remind yourself to give him space. Take things slow. “I was actually thinking of going back home, I’ve got a few errands to run.” You answered after rinsing your mouth.

Hugh came into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe as he watched you wash your face and look at him timidly over the fluffy towel. “You’ve got no reason to be so distant, darling.” He chuckled, reaching for your hand and bringing your knuckles up to his lips. “Come to breakfast with me.” He insists and you hesitate.

“What about the photographers?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rest your chin on his chest. “I’d hate to cause a scandal.”

Hugh smirked as he held you close to him with one arm and peered over your head at your backside, admiring the view of your ass in your pajama shorts. “You’re a walking scandal, sweetheart. Nothing we could do to avoid that.” He teases and you shyly tuck your face in his chest where you feel the vibration of his laugh. “C’mon then,” He’s guiding you to the bedroom and you feel those familiar butterflies swarming in your belly. “I can have my dinner for breakfast.” He says into the top of your head before he has you sit on the end of the bed. His lips find yours when he kneels in front of you and you kiss him back as his large hands smooth up your thighs and hold your hips as you make out.

With ease, he lifts you up and moves you further back on the bed, making you grin against his lips. “You’re so strong, Hugh.” You whisper, always in awe of the muscle he’s built up at his age. You hands rub over his biceps and his toned, hairy chest as he hovers over you, observing you with a smug smile.

“You don’t have to keep pretending with me, sweet girl.” He says as he kisses your neck softly, his beard tickles your skin and you giggle lightly, your fingers scratching through his greying beard. “I like that you always want to be around me. Makes me feel good to have you with me all the time.”

You chew your lip nervously and he nudges your nose with his, urging to tell him what’s on your mind. “You don’t want to take things slow?” You ask quietly and he shakes his head.

“Think I’ve gone about as slow as I can with you.” He sighed, caressing your side while petting your soft hair gently. “I need you and I don’t care who knows.”

Your face warms up and yoj nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before he begins to pull your top off. “I always want to be with you,” You sigh as he kisses your chest and your belly. Hugh smirks against your skin and he tugs your pajama shorts down, sighing as you spread yourself open for him with your fingers. His lips press to your knuckles before he moves your hand and he licks your slit, the taste of you so addicting. You moan softly as his hands hold your thighs open, gripping them as he makes a mess of your cunt with his drool which mixes with your arousal. “Always want you.” You murmur, biting your lip as he pulls off his shorts and pumps his cock to harden it completely.

“I know it, sweetheart.” He says as he gently rubs his head through your folds. You shudder at the feeling of him, so thick and long as he fills you up. “Fuck.” He draws in a slow breath and he carefully settles his weight on top of you. You hold tightly onto his shoulders, gasping softly as he drags his cock in and out of you at a slow pace, making your feel every inch. “Can’t hardly get enough of you myself.” He groans, dipping his head down and kissing you softly as he fucks himself into your tight pussy. Your brows arch from the pressure he puts on your cervix and you wrap your arms securely around his neck as you take his whole length.

“Oh, Hugh!” You whine, your back arches, pressing into his firm chest while he begins marking your neck, growling lowly as your walls constrict around him so tightly he could blow his load right there. “You-You’re gon-na make me c-cum!” You mewl as your thighs tighten around his waist and he groans approvingly, driving his cock harder into you, pushing through the resistance of your closing walls until your juices are gushing around his cock. “Ah, Hugh, yes!”

Hugh suddenly lifts you up with ease, making you gasp as you tighten your hold around his shoulders, and he sits on his knees as he sinks you down on his cock, bouncing you like a rag doll. “Tell me you want me.” He orders, nipping at your neck and collarbone as you cry softly into his hair. “Go on, baby, tell me how clingy you are.”

“Oh, Hugh, I want you, I want you all the time. I wanna be on your cock all day.” You whine and lace your fingers through his hair, tugging harshly as you feel him throb inside you at your words. ‘Fuck’ He swears and you bite your lip as his tip kisses your cervix, pressing into it harsher and harsher. “I want to be with you all the time, please, I love you.” You blurt out and you gasp as he grunts loudly, pinning you onto his cock as he bottoms out deep inside your cunt. It spills out of you, mixing with your own juices, and coating his balls as he groans into your chest while you caress his hair. You take a few deep breaths before trying to backtrack your lust fueled confession. “I didn’t-”

“I love you, sweet girl.” Hugh interrupts, smirking up at you and making your face grow hot. “Love you so much.” He sighs, lying you down and kissing your forehead. “I don’t mind that you’re clingy, alright? It strokes my ego to have a pretty thing like you all over me.” He teases and you laugh softly.

“Can I go to the interview with you?” You ask shyly, your index finger tracing the hairs on his chest and you look back up at him. He’s smiling down at you and he nods when your eyes land on his.

“I’ll take you everywhere with me.” Hugh murmurs, kissing your lips softly. “Let me show you off.” He says into your neck and you laugh, rolling your eyes and knowing you’re not going to make it to breakfast.

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[rootedinrevisions]

Jealousy in Motion

SUMMARY: Tired of waiting for Damian and Rhea to make their moves, you and Jey decide to stir things up with a little game of jealousy. What starts as harmless flirting at a club quickly turns into a night of heated glances and rising tension.

WARNINGS: Teasing, Alcohol Use

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108

The backstage area of the arena buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—wrestlers preparing for their matches, production staff rushing around, and the distant hum of the crowd filtering in through the walls. 

You found yourself leaning against a storage crate backstage, your eyes drifting to Damian as he finished lacing his boots. The sight of him—tall, imposing, tattoos snaking across his arms and shoulders and back to his back—always sent a thrill through you. He was magnetic, and you had been caught in his orbit for months now. But as you watched him, the ache of wanting more twisted in your chest.

"Ready for tonight?" you asked your voice light, hoping to catch his attention. 

Damian looked up, his expression as casual as ever. He offered a half-smirk, nodding. “Always am. You?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, feeling good. Maybe I’ll catch your match later, see what you beat up Dom.”

He chuckled, that deep, resonant sound that always sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, then.”

It was the same banter you’d had a hundred times. Light, playful, but never deeper. You’d heard a few people backstage gossip about how Damian seemed to have eyes for you—how he was different when you were around. But standing here now, you weren’t so sure. If he did have feelings, he never showed it in a way that mattered.

You glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then you stepped a little closer, just close enough that your arm brushed against his as you leaned in. “You know,” you started, your voice a little lower, “I’ve been thinking...”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention still on you but with the same calm, unreadable expression he always had. “About?”

You hesitated for a beat, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “About how...maybe we could hang out outside of work. You know, not just...the usual.”

There it was—your not-so-subtle hint. You felt the tension rise between you, hoping he’d finally catch on.

But Damian just chuckled again, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We hang out all the time,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms. “Just hung out with you last night, didn’t I?”

You swallowed the disappointment that settled in your stomach. Yeah, last night. When he’d snuck into your hotel room after his match, spent the night with you, and then slipped out before anyone could see. The same routine you’d been doing for three or four months. But it wasn’t enough anymore—not for you, anyway.

“Right,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “Just last night.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms as you tried to shake off the frustration that was building. Every time you hinted at the idea of something more, it was like he didn’t get it—or maybe he didn’t want to get it. And now you were starting to think that the rumors, all the whispers about him being into you, were just that: rumors.

It wasn’t that Damian wasn’t kind or caring—he was, in his own way. But you wanted more than secret rendezvous and stolen moments behind closed doors. You wanted to be his. His girlfriend. Not just the girl he came to when he needed to blow off steam.

“You know,” you started again, your voice quieter now, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your dirty little secret.”

Damian’s eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he quickly masked it with that same casual demeanor, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter. “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, offering you a grin. “You know it’s not like that.”

But you weren’t so sure anymore. You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you realized he wasn’t going to get it—not tonight, maybe not ever. “Right. It’s not like that.”

You turned away, trying to put some distance between you before the sting of rejection hit too hard. You were stuck in this endless cycle—always wanting more, always hoping he’d step up and make things real. But as the weeks that turned into months had dragged on, it was becoming painfully clear that maybe you were just the secret he kept from everyone else.

Damian stepped closer, his hand gently grazing your arm. “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. You know I care about you.”

You nodded, but the words didn’t hit the way you wanted them to. You knew he cared—but was it enough?

With one last glance at him, you gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

But deep down, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending that was enough.

The low hum of chatter echoed through the hallway as you made your way backstage after your match. The adrenaline from the night still coursed through your veins, but it wasn’t the excitement of the crowd or the rush of getting another win that had you on edge. It was Damian. Or rather, the frustrating conversation from earlier in the evening that had been bugging you ever since.

As you turned the corner, you spotted your friend Jey Uso leaning against a crate, his eyes locked down the hall where Rhea Ripley was doing an interview with Cathy Kelly. A smirk tugged at your lips as you sauntered over, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Not gonna make your move?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey’s gaze didn’t leave Rhea, but he smiled, shaking his head. “Not sure she’s even noticed, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice light but tinged with frustration.

You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned beside him. “Oh, she’s noticed, trust me.”

His eyebrow arched as he glanced your way, curious. “Yeah?”

You nodded, casting a glance down the hall at Rhea, who was still mid-interview. “We’re close. You don’t even know how many times I’ve had to listen to her talk about you in the last few weeks. Pretty sure she’s more interested than you think.”

Jey’s grin widened, but it quickly faded when his eyes flicked back to Rhea. There was something vulnerable in his expression, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you or keep playing it safe. You could see why he’d hesitate; he and Rhea had been circling each other for a while now, both giving mixed signals but never making the first big move.

Just then, Rhea’s eyes darted in your direction, and for a split second, you caught the way her face changed. She’d seen you and Jey talking, standing close, and a flicker of something unmistakable flashed in her eyes—jealousy.

A slow grin spread across your face as an idea began to form. You nudged Jey again, leaning closer as you whispered, “She’s jealous.”

He blinked, his focus snapping to you. “What?”

You nodded, motioning subtly in Rhea’s direction. “She sees us talking. I know that look.”

Jey’s eyes shifted to Rhea, and when he saw the way she was glancing at the two of you between interview questions, his grin returned. “Damn, you think?”

“I know,” you said confidently, the idea cementing in your mind now. “You going out with some of the crew after the show?”

Jey smirked, standing up straighter. “You know I keep it lit on the dance floor, baby.”

You laughed at his swagger, but your mind was already spinning. This could work. This could solve both your problems. “I’ve got an idea,” you started, lowering your voice as your eyes flicked back to Rhea and then down the hall where Damian had just passed by, his attention elsewhere.

Jey tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You leaned closer, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “We’re gonna make them jealous. You and me. A little flirting, some dancing, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. That’ll get their attention.”

Jey’s eyebrow shot up, his smile turning more playful. “You trying to stir the pot, huh?”

“I’m trying to get Damian to step up,” you said, sighing. “He’s been...distant. Or, I don’t know, maybe just not getting the hint. But I know him. He won’t like another guy getting close to me.”

Jey chuckled, crossing his arms as he considered your plan. “And Rhea? You think she’s gonna bite?”

“Oh, she will,” you assured him. “She’s already looking over here like she’s ready to step in. Trust me, once she sees you and me getting close, she’s not gonna let it slide. She’ll make her move.”

Jey thought it over for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he glanced back toward Rhea one last time. Then he smiled, that signature confident grin of his, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. If it gets her to stop playing games, I’m in.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as your plan fell into place. “Good. Pick me up at 11. Room 4112.”

Jey nodded, flashing you a wink before turning to head off, but not before you gave him one last parting shot. “And make sure you bring your A-game, Uce. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

He laughed over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I always do.”

As he walked away, you glanced back toward Rhea, who was still watching. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. The game had just begun, and tonight, things were finally going to get interesting.

The night air was cool as you walked side by side with Damian toward the parking lot, your boots crunching softly against the asphalt. The energy from the show still buzzed around the arena, but out here, it was quieter. Just you and him, under the soft glow of the streetlights. You glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed demeanor, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets. It should’ve been a perfect moment. But your frustration still simmered beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the limbo you were stuck in with him.

“So…” Damian started, breaking the silence, his voice low and casual. “I heard a few of the guys are heading to some bar after the show.” He glanced over at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “You wanna go?”

You almost smirked, but you caught yourself. Of course, now he wanted to hang out. Now that you were making moves to get his attention. 

Instead, you played it off, pretending to be a little caught off guard as you reached for your keys. “Oh, uh… I’m actually already going with Jey.”

Damian stopped walking for just a second, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Jey? Like… Uso?”

You nodded with a smile, keeping your tone light. “Yeah. He asked me earlier if I wanted to go with him.”

Damian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough. You caught the flicker in his eyes, something sharp and possessive flashing behind his otherwise calm exterior. Bingo. Your plan was already starting to work. But you didn’t want to push too hard too soon. You had to play this carefully.

“But maybe I’ll see you there, though?”

Damian’s jaw tightened just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You could see the tension in his posture now, the way his jaw clenched briefly before relaxing again. This was what you had wanted—Damian’s attention. But now that you had it, there was something almost thrilling about making him stew just a little longer.

You turned to get into your rental car, turning to give him a final smile before you closed the door. “See you later, Damian.”

He nodded again, though his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did. “Yeah. See you.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Damian’s reaction was exactly what you had hoped for. The flash of jealousy, the uncertainty. He wasn’t oblivious anymore.

Tonight was only going to get more interesting.

You hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when your phone lit up with Rhea’s name. You smiled to yourself, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead. You had a feeling Damian had talked to Rhea and that was the reason for her call. Keeping one hand on the wheel, you tapped the screen to answer.

“Hey, Rhea. What’s up?”

“Hey,” she replied, her usual confident tone slightly off, a hint of something uncertain hiding underneath. “So, I heard a few of us are going out tonight after the show. You in?”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. Here we go. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m going. Jey actually asked me to ride with him.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the way her brow furrowed in surprise. “Jey asked you?”

You made your voice sound casual, as if the question wasn’t loaded with the tension you knew she was feeling. “Yeah. He asked me before the show if I wanted to join him. Sounded fun, so I figured, why not?”

Rhea didn’t reply immediately, and you caught the slightest edge of jealousy creeping into her voice when she finally spoke again. “I thought you were just blowing Damian off when you said that.”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you kept your gaze on the road. “Nope, Jey actually asked me. I mean, Damian hadn’t said anything, and clubs aren’t always his thing. So I figured, why not go with someone else, right?”

You could hear her shift on the other end of the call, probably trying to find the right words to respond without giving herself away completely. “Right... I guess I just didn’t realize you two were, you know, hanging out outside of work like that.”

Your smile widened. She was trying to play it cool, but the jealousy was there, simmering just under the surface. Your plan was working, just like you hoped it would.

“Yeah, well, Jey’s seems fun to hang out with,” you said, keeping your tone as light and innocent as possible. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll see you there though?”

Rhea hesitated again, and you could hear the unspoken questions swirling in her head. “Yeah... maybe.”

You ended the call and couldn’t help but feel satisfied with how things were playing out. Damian’s possessiveness had already started to show, and now you had Rhea on edge too. The night was shaping up exactly how you planned, and it was only going to get better from here.

The thumping bass of the music hit you the moment you stepped into the club, the energy of the crowd buzzing in the air. You and Jey walked in together, fashionably late, just as you’d planned. You scanned the room, catching sight of Damian and Rhea almost immediately. They were at the bar, exactly where you hoped they’d be. Perfect.

Jey’s hand rested lightly on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd, both of you pretending not to notice the two people you were trying to get a rise out of. It was part of the plan, after all. You could feel eyes on you—probably Rhea’s, maybe even Damian’s—but you kept your focus on Jey, playing your part flawlessly.

As you reached the bar, Jey leaned in close, his voice low and playful against your ear. But also just loud enough for the two people standing next to you to hear him say it. “What you drinking tonight, baby?”

You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him as you smiled. “Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think I should start with?���

He chuckled, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he signaled the bartender. “Let’s start with something light,” he suggested, glancing down at you with a grin. “I gotta keep you in good shape for the dance floor later.”

You grin at him and pretend to reach for your purse but he reaches out and stops you. “Nah, I got you tonight, baby.”

You laughed, nudging him slightly. “You really know how to take care of a girl, Jey. That’s sweet.”

The way you said it wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t just a simple compliment, not with the way you let your fingers trail down his arm as you spoke, or the soft smile you gave him as you tilted your head just slightly, enough to let anyone watching see the ease between you two. You could feel the tension coming from behind Jey, the way Damian and Rhea were likely taking in every detail, even if they were trying to hide it.

Jey played along perfectly, his own smile widening as he leaned just a bit closer. “Sweet, huh? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy, and let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the heat from his body through his shirt. “Maybe I am.”

As the bartender handed over your drinks, Jey slid one toward you, his fingers brushing yours. You could practically feel the weight of the stares coming from behind you, and it took everything in you not to glance back at Damian and Rhea. But you knew better than to break character now. The game had only just begun.

As you lifted your drink to your lips, you felt Jey's hand lightly graze your back again, the touch casual but deliberate enough to keep up appearances. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the buzz of the club had you feeling confident, ready for whatever came next. You tilted your head, flashing Jey a smile before turning away from the bar, deciding it was time to up the ante.

With your drink in hand, you turned to leave the bar, making sure to brush close enough to Jey that it would look as if you were moving together. As you did, you caught sight of Damian and Rhea out of the corner of your eye.

Damian’s eyes were locked on you, his brow slightly furrowed, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he watched you interact with Jey. It was subtle, but you knew Damian well enough to recognize the telltale signs of his possessiveness flaring up. You let your lips curl into a smirk, satisfaction blooming in your chest. The plan was working.

Rhea was standing next to him, drink in hand, but her expression was much less controlled. Her gaze flickered between you and Jey, and there was no mistaking the spark of jealousy in her eyes. Her lips were set in a thin line, her posture stiff as she watched you practically draped against Jey. You knew that look—she didn’t like it one bit.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Jey, and as he flashed you a grin, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

Turning back to Jey, he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I think they’re starting to notice,” he whispered, the amusement in your tone unmistakable.

You chuckled, his hand resting on your hip as you reached up on your tip toes to reply. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”

You straightened, taking a slow sip of your drink before glancing back in Damian and Rhea’s direction, letting your gaze linger just long enough to make sure they saw. Damian’s dark eyes hadn’t left you, and Rhea’s fingers tightened around her glass as she muttered something under her breath to Damian.

Satisfied, you turned your attention back to Jey, the smirk still playing on your lips. “Looks like round one goes to us.”

Jey raised his glass in a silent toast, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the air was palpable now, the game in full swing. All you had to do was keep pushing the right buttons, and Damian and Rhea would break. And when they did, it was going to be so worth it.

After a few more rounds of playful banter at the bar, you felt Jey’s fingers gently brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him. His smile was easy, mischievous, as if he had something up his sleeve.

“You know what we need to do now?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What’s that?”

He straightened up, looking over toward the packed dance floor, where bodies swayed and pulsed to the heavy beat of the music. “We gotta hit the dance floor. I promised you I’d keep it lit, remember?”

You bit your lip, already anticipating what was about to happen. Glancing over to where Damian and Rhea were still standing, you noticed Damian’s eyes briefly flicker in your direction before shifting away, as if he were doing his best to act unaffected.

Perfect.

Jey reached out his hand, palm up in a silent invitation, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his. He gave it a slight tug, pulling you closer, and the two of you made your way through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor, where the music seemed to throb even louder.

As soon as you reached the middle, Jey spun you around with a playful grin and pulled you close. Your back pressed against his chest, and his hands naturally found their place on your hips, guiding you in time with the music. The moment you started moving together, everything else seemed to fall away—the lights, the noise, the crowd—it was just you and Jey, playing the game you both knew so well.

Jey leaned down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “This okay for you?”

You nodded and then leaned your head back, resting it on Jey’s shoulder. There weren’t many guys on the roster you would let hold you and touch you the way Jey was. But you trusted Jey. You knew he wouldn’t push it too far. 

He then whispered into your ear, “They’re already watching. You ready for this?”

You laughed softly, your fingers resting over his hands as you started swaying together. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The two of you moved effortlessly in sync, your bodies shifting and swaying with the rhythm, close enough to leave little to the imagination for anyone watching. The heat from Jey’s hands on your waist and the feel of his body behind yours made it easy to slip into the role you needed to play, pretending to be lost in the moment, when in reality, your mind was focused on one thing—getting Damian’s attention.

Your hands glided up, grazing Jey’s forearms lightly as if you were completely comfortable with his touch. But in reality, you were simply waiting for the exact moment to strike.

With a subtle glance over your shoulder, your eyes scanned the room until they found Damian.

There he was—standing by the bar, his drink forgotten in his hand, his jaw clenched as he watched the two of you. Even from this distance, you could see the flash of frustration in his eyes, the way his posture had shifted from relaxed to tense. The possessive gleam that flickered there was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you. He wasn’t liking this at all.

Jey’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, his voice brushing your ear again, a knowing edge in his tone. “Think he’s mad yet?”

You smirked, your eyes never leaving Damian’s. “Oh, he’s definitely mad.”

As the music continued to pound, you took things up a notch. You pressed your body closer to Jey’s, your movements slowing down, becoming more deliberate, more intimate. Your hips swayed against his as his hands followed your lead, guiding your rhythm. 

You let your head rest back against his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you murmured something irrelevant into his ear, loud enough for Damian to see but not hear. Jey chuckled, playing along perfectly, his lips grazing your ear as he responded, though you didn’t even need to hear the words to know you were in sync.

Finally, you couldn’t resist it any longer. You looked back across the room, and your eyes met Damian’s. His gaze was locked on yours, burning with a mix of jealousy and frustration that made your heart race. His body was tense, his grip on his drink so tight you were surprised the glass hadn’t shattered in his hand.

You smirked, letting him see just how much fun you were having, knowing that this was driving him wild. And it was working. The game you and Jey had started was finally beginning to pay off.

Damian wasn’t going to let this go much longer—you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into you, dark and heated. He was on the edge of stepping in, of making his move. And you were more than ready for it.

Jey must have sensed it too because his grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he whispered in your ear, “Any minute now.”

You nodded, your smirk widening. “He’s almost there.”

As the music pulsed around you, the tension between you and Damian crackled in the air like electricity. You could practically feel his frustration, his desire to intervene, and the satisfaction of knowing your plan was working filled you with excitement.

Before you realize it, Damian is weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on you and Jey. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, knowing that this moment is exactly what you had been waiting for. Jey, clearly noticing Damian’s approach, doesn’t hesitate. He steps back just as Damian reaches you, offering a quick nod and a knowing smile.

"Mind if I cut in?" Damian asks, his voice low but commanding, half-expecting Jey to protest. But Jey just motions toward you with a grin, as if to say, “All yours.”

With Jey stepping aside, Damian wastes no time. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you back against his solid, muscular chest. His grip is firm, possessive, and the heat of his body seeps into you as he takes control of the moment. The atmosphere shifts, and it feels as though the entire room fades away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the pulsing crowd.

Damian leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You shiver, the intimate gesture sending a thrill through you, but it’s what he says next that really makes your pulse quicken.

“You let him touch what’s mine,” he whispers, his voice laced with both frustration and desire.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his dark gaze. Your heart skips a beat, but you won’t let him get away with that statement so easily. "I didn’t know I was yours," you tease, raising an eyebrow, the challenge clear in your voice. “I thought we had a casual arrangement.”

Damian smirks, that cocky, confident grin of his flashing as he pulls you even closer, so your bodies are flush against each other. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing possessively into your skin. "Oh, you’re mine," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

You’re about to respond when Damian moves faster than you expect. In one swift motion, he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with intent. Before you can catch your breath, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and hungry. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a statement to everyone in the room, especially Jey, that you belong to him.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your mind spinning as Damian pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "You're mine. My girl."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words echoing in your ears. His hands don’t leave your body, staying firmly on your hips as if to prove his point. His eyes search yours for any hesitation, but instead of pulling away, you feel a sense of relief, the very thing you’ve been wanting for so long finally falling into place.

In that moment, the game is over. You’re no longer just his secret—you're his, for everyone to see.

As Damian’s words sink in, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you glance over toward Jey. Just in time, you catch Rhea stepping up to him, her arms snaking confidently around his neck. A smirk spreads across Jey’s face, his hands naturally resting on her waist as if they’ve been in this position before.

You watch as Rhea leans in, her lips brushing against Jey's ear to whisper something. Whatever she says makes him smile, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. It's clear that Rhea’s walls are coming down, just like Damian's did with you.

For a fleeting second, Jey looks up and your eyes meet across the room. There's no need for words—just a shared glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of victory. The plan you hatched together has worked.

You smile knowingly, feeling the weight of success settle in. Damian's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Jey's hands slide up Rhea's waist as she moves even closer to him, their chemistry undeniable.

Everything has fallen into place.

[hederasgarden]

Dad!Captain Syverson Headcanons

I was inspired to write about Captain Syverson as a dad by @augustsprincess beautiful illustration.

Warnings for some smutty talk at the beginning. 18+ only. Thanks to @ryebecca for looking this over.

I’m happy to tackle other HC characters as dads if there is interest. Send me an ask!

We all know Sy has a breeding kink a mile wide.

There’s nothing he loves more than coming inside you again and again and stuffing you full of him. He also likes to stay buried in you as long as possible to keep you plugged up. When he finally does pull out he’ll get between your legs and push his cum back inside with his fingers while he rubs your thigh with his other hand.

Even though you’re exhausted, there’s something about the sight of him looking up at you with that hungry glint in his eye that makes you ready to go again. When you lift your hips towards his face he smiles.

“That’s not how you make a baby, sweetheart,” he growls, climbing back on top of you again.

Once you’re pregnant, Sy’s over the moon and telling anyone he can. He brings home all the pregnancy books that night, spending his evenings pouring over them with a little frown on his face. He writes down a dozen or more questions for your first OB appointment. He definitely annoys the sonographer when you’re far along enough to see one, practically leaning over her shoulder to see the screen.

Sy researches baby items like he’s planning an military incursion. You never knew someone could have that many options about car seats and baby bottles.

When it comes to your growing belly and expanding cup size, he’s feral. He wants you all the time after the doctor promises him sex won’t hurt the baby. You don’t even have time to wonder if you’re getting too fat or frumpy because his hands are on you all the time and he’s heaping on the praise.

Also, if you thought he was protective before you haven’t seen anything yet. He becomes hyper-vigilant about you and his little cub, to the point it probably causes a few fights and makes you feel suffocated. You definitely have an emotional breakdown or two that he has zero idea how to handle. Defusing an IED is child’s play compared to navigating your emotional changes. That’s usually when he resorts to food and foot rubs.

Once the baby arrives he’s on it. You don’t even change a single diaper until your son is two months old. If you’re breastfeeding, Sy’s there with snacks and water. If you’re formula feeding, he’s got everything prepped and ready to go.

The best thing about Sy as a dad though? It’s the way he looks at his son. The sheer awe and love you see in his eyes as his big fingers trace the delicate lines of your newborn’s face. And the way he looks at you with so much pride, love, and devotion? Well, is it any wonder your son gets a little sister a year later?

[vitalverstappen]

How Do I Do This? - D. Ricciardo

summary: after a public divorce with your ex-husband (not danny), you found yourself learning to try again

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x famous!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce, drinking, swearing

word count: 1.1k

The divorce was messy. There were disputes over literally everything: who got what, how much money both of you got, who kept the dog. And it didn’t help that the media got a whiff of what was happening. Your failing marriage was plastered on every single outlet. 

It was for the best that you hid away from the public for a while. The pieces of you had shattered on the floor, and you needed the time to put yourself back together. 

A few months later, you slowly began putting yourself back in the public eye. Small trips to the coffee shop, out to lunch with some friends, or a smaller awards show. 

During this outing, you found yourself out to lunch with your childhood best friend, Kelly. She had been there through the thick and thin of your marriage, and the resulting divorce. There was nothing about your life that she didn’t know. 

She knew so well that she could tell you were healed, and truth be told, you were. So it was no surprise when a mischievous grin formed on her face. 

“What’s that look for?” You asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be

“Soooo” Kelly started “There’s this guy I know. A good friend of mine.”

“Wow, you have friends other than me. I’m hurt” You joked as you took a sip of your drink. It was obvious what she was hinting at. 

“Yeah, believe it or not” She laughed “But I think they’re your type y/n. His name is Daniel.” 

Kelly flipped her phone around to show you a picture of the man. Dark curly hair, brown eyes, and a charming smile. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your type. 

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms. It had been years since you dated. And honestly, it terrified you having to have a conversation about someone’s favorite color again. It terrified you to have articles written about you again. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” You admitted “I can’t even remember what it’s like going on a first date. My last one was back when I was 22.” 

“Oh come on, y/n. It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just one date to test the waters. Get yourself back out there.” Kelly explained, “It can be in secret so the tabloids don’t write anything.” 

She was right. The date didn’t have to go anywhere. You could meet the guy, say you weren’t feeling it, and leave it at that. No attachments, no tabloids. 

“Fine,” You sighed, defeated. “Send the guy my number. I am not making the first move.”

You had honestly forgotten about the conversation with your friend. Days had passed and you hadn’t gotten a text from a new number. He probably didn’t want to text you. Or your agent had seen the text and thought it was spam. 

That is until one fateful night, your phone buzzed. 

Unknown: Hey y/n it’s Daniel. Kelly gave me your number

Amused, you picked up your phone. It took him long enough to get the confidence to text you.

You: Hey Daniel. I was starting to think Kelly forgot to lol

Only a few moments passed before your phone buzzed again. Another text from Daniel. 

Daniel: Lol that’s pretty much what happened. How’s your night going?

The two of you engaged in a bit of small talk over text. It was only a matter of time before he pulled the trigger on asking you out. 

Daniel: So I was wondering, are you free Saturday? I know a spot we could go - away from everything. 

Your fingers danced around your keyboard until you finally found a reply. 

You: Yeah I am! 

After rereading the text, you quickly deleted your response. It was just a little too desperate. 

You: Yup, I think so 

Again, you found yourself deleting the message. This time, too nonchalant. At least twenty different replies had to have been typed out before you finally gave up and responded with something simple and straight to the point. 

You: Yes

Immediately, you put your phone down, needing to connect back to your world. It was hard to fathom that you were back in the dating scene. Never did you think you would be back starting at square one. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing once again. 

Daniel: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7

And that’s how you found yourself panicking in your room Saturday evening. An excitement rushed through you that you hadn’t felt in years. It was like your teenage self was coming back to life. You and Daniel had texted off and on leading up, but today was the big day. 

Hours were spent digging through your extensive closet. Nothing that you had picked out seemed to be just right. Eventually, you landed on a little black dress that you hadn’t worn in years. 

Panic flooded your thoughts the entire time you got ready. What if you said something stupid? What if he brought up your divorce? What if it actually goes well?

Your thoughts were cut short when you read the clock: 6:52pm. Eight minutes left. 

You did the only thing you knew would calm your senses. Phone in hand, you called Kelly. One ring was all it took before her face showed up on your screen.

“Hey girl! You look hot!” She said as she picked up. 

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up” You admitted “I don’t know if I can do this” 

“Y/n, yes you can. It’s just a few hours of your life. Daniel’s a sweet guy-”

“Would it be wrong if I took a shot?” You blurted out, eyes on the bottle of vodka that stood on your kitchen counter. 

Through the phone, Kelly stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you need to, Danny’s an easy guy to talk to. But if you think it’ll help, be my guest.” 

Without a second thought, you twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a swig. The liquor burned your throat as you drank, but it was the reality check you needed. You were human, he was human. You’re going to be fine. 

“Better?” Kelly asked as you gagged 

Once you collected yourself, you said, “Better. I gotta go Kels. He should be picking me up any second.” As if on cue, you heard your doorbell ring. “Coming!” 

After one last quick look in the mirror, you found yourself at your door. Daniel was on the other side. This was it. One last inhale, then you opened the door. 

“Hey” Was all you were able to get out. Kelly had shown you photos of Daniel, but none of those could compare to how he looked standing in front of you. 

“Hi” He replied in the same breathy tone you had used only moments prior. A smile spread across his face. “You look amazing”

“So do you” 

Daniel reached out his hand, “M’lady, shall we?” 

Your lips parted into a smile as well as you laced your fingers into his, “We shall”

[waywardchaos3]

Megumi Fushiguro: He Kisses You For The First Time

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: None since this story is just pure fluff!

WC: 371

Main Masterlist

A/N - Much like the version where you kiss him, I love how this came out! This story was inspired by this post by @just-jordie-things, much like the other version that I wrote that will be posted next a little bit later today, which is linked below!

You and Megumi have been dating for a few months now, and every time you want to kiss him, you’re the one who has to lean in.

Not that you mind; you honestly love kissing Megumi.

It’s also not like he doesn’t kiss you back when you kiss him anyway.

When he’s the one to finally kiss you first, you were definitely in for a surprise.

You didn’t even see it coming as you were waiting for him to return to the school from an assignment that had run late in the common room.

You’re half asleep on one of the couches, a show you’ve lost interest in on the TV, when you hear the door leading into the common room open, causing you to perk up.

You turn to see him closing the door behind him and smile up at him as his blue eyes meet your (e/c) ones.

“Gumi.” you call out softly as you reach your arms to him as he approaches you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Megumi returns with a small smile as he takes you into his arms.

After holding each other closely for a few moments, Megumi leans back slightly, and his left hand cradles the back of your head before he leans in, kissing your lips.

Your eyes widen as soon as his lips touch yours, and you’re wide awake. The realization that Megumi’s the one kissing you strikes you.

When he pulls away a moment later, he looks down at you, seeing your shocked expression.

“You okay there, sweetheart?�� Megumi asks you after you haven’t said anything for a moment or two.

You nod in reply to his question.

“You sure, because if I-”

“No. No, Gumi, you did nothing wrong. You just startled me, is all.” You say cutting off his worries about him kissing you, making you feel uncomfortable.

“You sure that I-”

You cut him off again by saying. “Just kiss me again.”

His blue eyes widen slightly at your command, but then he smiles down at you before leaning down and capturing your lips with his again in a passionate kiss, which you respond to eagerly.

Megumi Fushiguro: You Kiss Him For The First Time

[missisjoker]

A prompt?

A prompt.

Jacaereys travels to Kinglands to celebrate his grandsire's name day with a royal hunt. It's a dreadfully boring affair until Jace hears rumors that there's a direwolf roaming in the forests and goes to investigate.

He ends up face-to-face with the dire wolf because, apparently, the humongous mountain of a wolf can sneak up on people like a cat. The wolf doesn't hurt him; just looks at him with eyes color of molten valyrian steel, huffs, and tracks back into the forest.

A few moments later Jace hears a trap shut and wolf howling in pain; and runs toward him. Keeps saying I'm trying to help, please don't eat me. The wolf growls- a deep, rumbling sound that Jace feels in his bones, but doesn't snap at Jace. The trap breaks the same moment someone calls out for Jace- and the wolf is gone in an instant.

The next day, Jacaerys trails off from the hunting party, lost in thought, perhaps hoping to glimpse the wolf again - when he is attacked by 3 cutthroats. He manages to bring down one of them, but the other two push him to the ground and slash his arm from palm to elbow. He feels the cold blade tickle his throat when men's laughter turns into screams and then gargles. The direwolf nudges him to sit down and licks his bleeding arm, stopping the blood flow. Jace tries to find his way back, but his horse bolts, and the sky is dark with a gathering storm. He shakily tracks to a hunter's cabin nearby, the wolf tailing him. The cabin is just big enough for them two, and eventually, Jace stretches on the floor and falls into a restless sleep, with the wolf curling next to him.

When Jace wakes up, he is warm and cozy, but there's a human form next to him- a big, naked man nuzzling into the back of his neck.

He jerks awake and so does the man. Jace tries to hit him with something - anything- and get away- but the man is too fast and too strong, and pins Jace down. Jace tries to bite him, but the man kisses him. Which startles both Jace and the offender- and the man starts apologizing.

Jace gives him an opportunity to explain while pointing at him with a sword (he’s sure sword won’t do him any good, but at least it distracts him from ogling the man’s beautiful and very naked body).

The man - Cregan Stark - says he is a skin changer, something that runs in his family. Was betrayed and usurped by his uncle who somehow locked him in the wolf form. He’s been desperately trying to return for months, but couldn’t - until Jaces blood broke the curse.

Jace refuses to believe him until Cregan’s eyes flash the same molten Valyrian steel color.

Once Cregan puts on some clothes, Jace asks him of his plans. Offers to go with him on a dragon to remove his uncle from the seat in Winterfell- but Cregan refuses. Says, if he is to control the north, he will have to do it himself.

Jace asks if Cregan is sure he won’t get locked into a dire wolf form again- and Cregan says no, he only got blindsided because he trusted his family, but he will not make the same mistake again.

They part ways with Jace’s wish of good luck and a promise to visit Cregan once he retakes Winterfell.

Jace is sure he will see him again- after all, Cregan owes him a debt; he stole a kiss from him, and Jace will be sure to collect.

[kaye-go-moo]

Shapes and Strange Ciphers AU: Need a hand? Pt. 1

Number SaSC by me

Shapes and Pines by @/void-dude

Next Part

Bill and Ford

While exploring one of Gravity Falls’ caves, Bill stumbled upon a wall covered in ancient text. Bill recorded his findings and translated the writing to reveal an incantation to summon an oval-shaped entity. Bill hesitated to try the summoning but felt he couldn't miss the opportunity to push past his plateau and continue his research. So he read the incantation aloud.

Later that day, Bill experienced an extraordinary dream. While floating through an infinite cosmos filled with books and scrolls, Bill was greeted by the creature pictured on the cave walls. A yellow, oval-shaped being with one eye and glasses at its center–part of its form appeared chipped away. The entity, underwhelmingly named Stanford, told Bill that he was there to help expand his research by acting as a ‘mentor’.

-

Bill, though wary in the beginning, grew to trust his new friend. Ford shared his knowledge of Bill's world and the oddities that resided in it–though never enough to satisfy the man. He would always leave Bill with a tease of new information, promising to teach him more later on. Like a fishing lure, Ford would use his extensive knowledge to reel Bill in and keep him close.

Ford also fed into Bill's narcissism, telling him that he was special and different from those who had summoned Ford in the past. This gave Bill the love and attention he so desperately craved, inflating his ego just enough to keep him happy and obedient. Before long, Bill was completely wrapped around Ford's finger, hanging on his mentor's every word, utterly infatuated. Ford believed Bill was ready for the next phase of his plan, but he had to be sure.

To test Bill’s commitment, Ford asked Bill to remove his lazy eye, reasoning that it was only holding him back and that doing so would prove Bill was serious about expanding his knowledge. Bill's lazy eye–something he was teased for while growing up, but also something that he and Tad had bonded over–was an innate part of his identity. But Bill didn't hesitate.

-

A few months later, Ford revealed that it was nearly time for him to leave, explaining to Bill that he didn't have anything else to teach him, and soon there would be no point in staying. Bill was caught off guard and desperate to keep his Mentor close. He frantically searched for an excuse to have Ford stay, telling him that he still has so much more to learn, not just about his world, but about Ford’s too. Bill’s desperation grew, overtaking his mind in hopeless pleas. Don’t leave me. Please. Please don’t leave me alone. Not again.

Seeing Bill's anguish over his leaving, Ford relented before offering a solution. He explained that it wouldn’t matter if he talked about the makings of his world because Bill couldn’t experience it for himself–unless he could. Ford admitted to knowing a way for Bill to explore not just Ford’s world, but countless others, hinting that he could also continue as Bill’s mentor–if Bill was fully prepared to expand his research. Bill jumped at the opportunity, swearing that he was ready. Ford revealed his plan: Bill needed to create a portal that would open a gateway to other worlds, allowing him to explore beyond the limits of his dimension.

Bill was eager to create the portal, especially since he could work on calculations with Ford. However, they still needed to gather materials and build the machine. After realizing that it would take far too long to do on his own, Bill called his old college friends–some lent him supplies, while others traveled to Gravity Falls to help him build. But Ford was not happy. He chose Bill to do the work, not his bumbling group of ‘friends’ with their useless degrees. What infuriated him the most wasn’t that Bill had gone over his head, but that he was right–things were progressing much faster with their help. But this didn’t matter to Ford. He already knew the sting of trusting the wrong person, so he wanted them gone.

Ford couldn’t outright tell Bill to kick his friend out, so he restored to planting subtle doubts in Bill's mind, suggesting that his friends might sabotage their work. Bill, initially confused, tried to reassure Ford that there was nothing to worry about. However, Ford persisted, slowly dripping poison into Bill’s mind. Slowly, Bill began to believe him. He started double-checking his friends’ work, scrutinizing the materials they brought, and analyzing their actions. Ford's words gnawed at Bill until he was on the brink of sending away his friends. It was only after Ford confided in Bill, sharing how trusting the wrong person had cost him everything, that Bill was fully convinced.

One by one, Bill began dismissing his friends with various excuses, though it was clear that he simply didn't want them around anymore. Over time, they watched Bill twist into someone they barely recognized–cold and distant, treating them less like friends and more like subordinates. Some tried convincing Bill to let them stay, but he wouldn't budge. He told them they were no longer needed and that he couldn’t risk their shoddy work jeopardizing his project. In the end, Bill all but called them stupid before severing ties and destroying his friendships.  

However, one friend, Jheselbraum, stayed behind. She sensed something was off and wanted to keep an eye on Bill, making sure he was safe. Jheselbraum would stop by Bill's home to check on him and hang out, and while he enjoyed her visits, Ford would always convince him to send her away. Eventually, Bill banned her from coming over, insisting he needed to focus on finishing his project and couldn’t afford any distractions. But Jheselbraum persisted, calling daily to check on Bill until she finally convinced him to let her at least drop off food.

Every time she visited, Bill was either locked away in the basement or gone from the house entirely. On the rare occasions she saw him, Jheselbraum noticed how worn down he looked–becoming more decrepit with each passing day. She tried talking to him, but he either ignored her or brushed her off, insisting he was fine and too busy with his project to worry about his appearance. The more she tried reaching out to help him, the further away he felt, like an ever-widening chasm. She could scream and still, he wouldn’t hear her, her voice swallowed by the void between them. Even when standing in the same room, Jheselbraum couldn’t help but feel they were miles apart, and it frustrated her.

It wasn’t long before Jheselbraum reached her breaking point. One day, she noticed a trail of blood leading to the basement and found Bill crumpled on the floor. She managed to get him out of the basement and into her car, wanting to take him to the hospital. But during the drive, Bill woke up and demanded she take him back home. He insisted he was fine and that a hospital visit would only waste more of his time. Jheselbraum tried reasoning with him but Bill rolled his eyes and muttered, “I knew you’d get in the way.”

Jheselbraum went silent, and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She turned the car around, helped Bill back into his house, and placed him in a chair. She patched up his wound in continued silence. When she finished, she stood up, looked Bill in the eye, and told him that she was done. She wouldn’t be dropping off food or visiting anymore. She was through with him. However, Jheselbraum couldn’t bring herself to leave Gravity Falls completely. She was angry, but a feeling in her gut wouldn’t allow her to leave. Something was wrong. Though she couldn’t pinpoint what, she knew she had to stay–lingering around places she thought Bill might go, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Her actions more akin to monitoring a suspicious than simply looking out for old friend.

-

Now that Bill was alone, Ford concentrated his manipulation into pushing Bill further into isolation. He used Jheselbraum's leaving as proof that Bill couldn’t trust anyone–except for Ford. Yet, Bill began second guessing himself, more importantly, Bill geban second guessing Ford.

Bill tried his best to remain focused on building the portal, but doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind, festering until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. What exactly was Ford planning to do with the portal? Bill hated the thought–hated that he was question his mentor–but he couldn’t help it.

As soon as this doubt bubbled to the surface of Bills mind, Ford new instantly. Ford attempted to reassure bill, emphasizing that the portal was more beneficial for him than it was for Ford, stressing that his only concern was Bills success. However, this reassurance didn’t fully take hold, and Ford knew it.

Bill continued to build the portal, doubt still lingering in his mind. He didn't want to believe that his mentor had ulterior motives. Desperately, he clung to their friendship like a life raft in a vast, empty sea–though one of his own making. He wanted to believe Ford, to trust that their partnership was genuine. But as time passed, his doubts only deepened, and he bagan to long for his old friends.

Before Bill could act on his feelings, Ford intervened with further manipulation, choosing to have a ‘heart-to-heart’. He reminded Bill of their previous conversation about how trusting the wrong person had cost Ford everything. This time, he revealed that it was his brother who he had misplaced his trust in, leading to the loss of his family and his dimension–everything. Ford claimed that his journey for knowledge was meant to help others, serving as a way to overcome his past.

Ford also admitted that he had lied to Bill in the past, but not out of malice. He confessed that he was ashamed of his limited understanding of Bill’s dimension. Having always prided himself on his vast wealth of knowledge, Ford felt inadequate and uncertain about to teaching Bill. He explained that he feared Bill would take advantage of his naivety–just like his brother had. However, over the course of their partnership, Ford had come to genuinely trust Bill and was happy to call him a true friend.

Moved by Ford’s supposed vulnerability, Bill apologized to for doubting him, realizing that he had been wrong. Ford’s manipulation had work. Sensing the shift in Bills mind, Ford seized the moment to reveal a new ability: the power to control someone's body through their mind. He asked if he could try it on Bill. More trusting of his mentor than ever before, Bill admently agreed.

-

Weeks passed, Bill and Ford settled into a routine. When Bill was awake, he worked on the portal. But when he was asleep, Ford took control of his body and did the work to keep Bill alive–ensuring he ate, drank, and rested. Of course, Ford would also work on little side projects. Using the schematics of a former interdimensional follower, he created a tool that could erase memories, hiding it from Bill. Ford knew it was only a matter of time before one of Bill's pests would try to interfere, and he wanted to be prepared. It didn’t take long before he was proven right.

_____

Lore Comment

[daffi-990]

Daffi, beloved 🌼

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love ✨

Ohh thank you for this!

stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong

aka rival firefighters 🚒

This baby is 85k and I adore her so much. If I can encourage anyone to read one of my fics it’s this one. It’s just SO GOOD (yes I’m tooting my own horn).

Summary:

Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other.

As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight.

Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?

LA Lonely

My latest fic which has all the feel good and rom-com vibes. I really adore this one.

Summary:

Buck meets Eddie one night at a bar and sparks fly. Buck feels an instant connection but after Eddie leaves in a rush the next morning, he puts it down to his imagination because he’s only good for one night, no one wants him for keeps.

Cue him running into Eddie almost everywhere he goes, like the universe keeps putting Eddie in his path. And Eddie is kind and never makes their interactions feel awkward and the way he smiles at Buck has something warm fluttering to life inside him.

Is his crush unrequited or is there a chance Eddie feels the same?

remember to remember me

aka the lightning amnesia fic. And my first fic. This one is very special to me and I’m so proud of her and I really wish she got a bit more hype.

Summary:

Buck and Eddie finally get together only for lightning to strike a few days later, leaving Buck with no memories of them ever becoming a couple.

I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night (now I’m wide awake)

Now this one is part of a series called Daylight, but can be read as a stand alone. It’s cosy and soft and lovely and yes, I do have plans to continue the series, I’m just waiting for the writing beans to return from war.

Summary:

Buck is tired of the fame, fortune and loneliness of a life that doesn’t even feel like his own, so he packs his bags and runs away, ending up in the small beachside town of Hartlan Shore where he decides to begin his life anew.

turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

A little angsty fic that came out of nowhere. It has a happy ending like all of my fics do <3

Summary:

To protect his heart, Eddie pulls away from Buck when he starts dating Natalia. When he decides to move to B-shift, Buck finally confronts him and certain feelings finally come to light.

Thanks again Hippo for this ask! ❤️

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

hello! Could please make a list with fic with Katniss and Peeta as parents? Thanks!!!

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of parent!evelark. I've added this topic of future masterlists. In addition, here is the singledad!peeta masterlist. Hopefully some of these are new to you! Happy reading!

Everything Grows-ashyblondwaves (ao3) Summary: During a pregnancy, everything grows. Love grows, fears grow, bonds grow, bellies grow and most of all, families grow. My take on Katniss and Peeta’s first pregnancy. Food Comas-mellarked-katnisseverdeen (tumblr) Summary: Post MJ Canon Thanksgiving Food comas give you my wild-melissaeverdeen13 (ao3) Summary: a look into katniss and peeta's life as they grow back together after the war; their experiences with friendship, love, and parenthood. Golden-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: A mandatory law brought them together. Four years later, Peeta Mellark comes to District 12 to the daughter he’s never known and the wife he barely met. An In-Panem AU with the marriage law twist. Hidden on this Prairie-RannonAce8 (ao3) Summary: Katniss lost everything during the war: her home, her family, and her innocence. Now, just a few short years after Appomattox she finds herself dislocated yet again when a dispute with the landlord leaves her homeless and unemployed. A chance meeting with a stranger offers her a chance at a better life out west but Katniss has no inclination to ever be involved with a man again. I Can't Believe You're Mine-JHsgf82 (ao3) Summary: Canon-compliant. Post-Mockingjay. Pre-epilogue. Katniss watches Peeta walk the floors with their infant daughter. As he cradles her, he whispers, "I can't believe you're mine" and Katniss's heart melts. I Can See you Standin', Honey, With His Arms Around your Body-HuntersWithCellPhones (ao3) Summary: Gale comes back to twelve years after the war, expecting to find a Katniss he could possibly fall in love with. Marry. At the very least, they could be friends again. But, instead, he finds Katniss married to Peeta with a little boy named Rye. Drama ensues. Worse Games to Play-belmione (ao3) Summary: "I expect Peeta's wanted a baby since he was one himself. In this moment I'm not sure how I've said no to him for fifteen years. Peeta Mellark hasn't smiled like that since the day on the rooftop of the Training Center before the Quarter Quell." My take on Katniss's decision to have children with Peeta. Pre-epilogue, but it will eventually go through to post-epilogue. Wrapped in Green-katnissdoesnotfollowback (tumblr) Summary: Wrapped In Red!Peeta is a horny boy and I am here for it He likes to dress Katniss up in nothing but those naughty red stockings, spank her, and then rail her into the mattress when the kiddos are fast asleep Yours-lunalark (ao3) Summary: Everlark. Mockingjay AU. After the last night in the training center before the Quell, Peeta’s “baby bomb” becomes a reality. It has been 5 months since the Quell, and Peeta has just been rescued from the clutches of the Capitol.

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to the future lists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[emotionally-damaged-carrot]

Harry Hart x Kingsman!male reader

The sword and the knight

No Warning

Just fluff or something

I got back into kingsman and saw a lack of male readers, so I am fixing that. I could do a lot better than this one, it's pretty boring and long, I am still trying to get back into the game and that will take a long while. But for the mean time, enjoy 🫰

Didn't have time to proofread, sorry.

Eggsy entered the tailorshop with his casual wear, jacket, shirt, cap and all. He looked out of place as he looked around until he saw Harry looking at him with a man beside him, his head was on Harry's lap with eyes closed, while Harry stroke his hair. Eggsy found it amusing and was about to talk until Harry put a finger to his lips, signalling him to shut it.

"Keep your voice down, he gets very grumpy if he gets woken up."

Harry said in a hushed tone as he beckoned Eggsy closer.

"Who is he exactly?"

"You'll know when you get into kingsman, now, are you ready?"

"way to leave a bloke in a cliffhanger, yes, I'm ready."

" Alright, head to the third fitting room, I will follow you shortly."

Eggsy did as he was told, still looking at Harry and the mystery person. After waiting a few minutes in the fitting room, Harry got inside and stood beside Eggsy.

"Apologies, he reacted not how I anticipated he would. Now, what do you see?"

Harry asked Eggsy as they were both looking in the three mirrors infront of them.

"Because I see, a man who is loyal, who can do as he is asked, and wants to do something good with his life."

Eggsy looked intently at the mirror.

"You ready?"

"What have I got to lose?"

Harry placed his palm on the mirror, a few moments later the floor began to descend into a subway. They got into the pod and travelled to the kingsman HQ.

As they arrived Harry told him everything he needed to know and brought him to the dorm with the other candidates. A few moments later Harry was joined by a bald man and the man earlier.

"Alright you lot, listen here and listen close, what I am about to say is vital. Your recuitment into kingsman is to take up to 3 months, more or less depeninding on how well all of you do."

The man from earlier spoke, and looked at Eggsy.

"I am Excalibur, and the bald scotsman beside me is Merlin, and this tall as shit fellow here is Galahad."

Excalibur said as he pointed to them respectively.

"I do not appreciate being called that, Excalibur."

"I just described you, what you want from me?"

Merlin just sighed as Excalibur crossed his arms in sort of a pissed off kid kind of way.

"Your test is already underway, the moment you stepped into this place the test has started. Now get some rest, and goodluck."

The three of them left after saying their farewells.

–—–

"When are you going to make them swim?"

Excalibur asked Merlin as he stood beside him.

"In a bit."

Merlin pressed the button, making the doorm fill up with water, Eggsy was the first to wake up. Noticing the water, the others were not far behind.

"Loo snorkels, loo snorkels."

Charlie said as he pointed towards the toilets.

"Showers heads."

Roxy followed behind, Eggsy was confused looking around as he looked at the door. After the room was full of water, he swam towards the door and tried to open it, unfortunately it was locked. He looked towards the mirror and began to swim towards it, as he got to the mirror he repeatedly punched it until it broke.

"That was fast."

Excalibur said as he looked towards the candidates on the floor.

"Good job, Charlie for quick thinking, as well as Roxy. However, all of you failed, you forgot the most important thing, teamwork, look inside."

Merlin said as the candidates now looked inside the dorm again, finding the lifeless body of a girl named Amelia.

"Still commendable, get some rest, we will continue tomorrow."

Excalibur said as he smirked at them, Eggsy looked quite pissed off.

"Are you trying to kill us?"

He asked angrily as he looked at Excalibur.

"Our job is to narrow down the candidates to one, Arthur never said how."

"For an old man you sure are fuckwd in the head."

"I am not old, I am just 3 years younger than Harry, I am Y/n, by the way."

Y/n reached out his hand for Eggsy.

"Proper sadist you are."

Eggsy shook his hand as he followed where the others went.

"If you see Harry, tell him I am looking for him, he knows where."

Y/n said before Eggsy was out of sight.

As Eggsy was walking to his dorm, he stumbled upon a tired Harry sat against the wall as he turned the corner. He looked to be asleep but with a cut on his head and he is sweating profusely.

"Harry!"

Eggsy ran towards him.

"You good, mate?"

Eggsy shook his shoulder as Harry slowly opened his eyes.

"Just got into an accident, no need to fret."

Harry said with a tired face as he closed his eyes again.

"You sure? Well, Y/n is looking for you."

"thank you, Eggsy."

Harry nodded at Eggsy as he began to stand up, although struggling, he managed to be on his feet. He began to walk but he was stumbling and seemed to be in pain.

"You sure, you good? You don't seem proper, Harry."

Eggsy walked beside Harry as he put one of Harry's arms around his shoulder.

"I am feeling quite tired, my apologies, but I may need some assistance if you don't mind that is?"

Harry looked at Eggsy.

"You are tall, never realized just how tall until now."

Eggsy joke, trying to lighten the mood as he went with Harry.

"I am indeed tall, tallest in this place not to boast."

Harry chuckled.

"where are we going?"

"Just to Y/n' office."

"Where?"

"Right, I forgot, just on the second floor and last door on the right."

Eggsy hummed in acknowledgement.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you lot named after the knights of the round table? Guess it fits the name, dunnit?"

"We are named based on our capabilities."

"And why is Y/n named excalibur?"

"Because he is the best of us, he is quite literally, Arthur's weapon. When Arthur deems it necessary, Excaliber will be there to slay the foe. He is a cold blooded killer, he does not show remorse, he has his own justice. He is the one Arthur sends when his Knights are in trouble, Excalibur has never failed a mission yet, and Arthur trusts him with his life."

They reached the door to Y/n's office after Harry explained.

"Well, here we are, would love to know more about the others. But Your duty calls, and sleep is pulling me down, Night."

Eggsy gave a two fingered salute to Harry before making his leave, leaving Harry infront of the door. He knocked six times in a pattern, alerting Y/n of who is at the door.

"Come in."

The voice from inside said, just as Harry opened the door to the office, he collapsed. Y/n immediately ran to Harry and shook his shoulder while gently tapping his cheek.

"Harry? You good, Love? Come on."

Y/n aid as he was getting emotional, his voice wavering a bit. Harry woke up after a few moments, later.

"I'm alright, nothing to worry about."

Harry said as he forced himself to stand, Y/n noticed and helped him, holding his hips so he doesn't fall.

"Why don't you lay down, hm?"

Y/n offered as he looked at Harry with distress.

"If it calms you down."

Harry laid down on the couch in the office.

"What did you call me for, my dear?"

"I just missed you."

Y/n said shyly as he looked everywhere but at Harry.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?"

Harry chuckled as he motion for Y/n to join him in the couch.

"Was the mission hard?"

Y/n asked as he snuggled into Harry, his small frame fitting perfectly with his head on Harry's chest with Harry's hand playing with his hair.

"Smooth."

"Then why are you injured?"

"I fell down a flight of stairs."

"Don't lie."

"I jumped off a plane."

"Come on, Harry, why so secretive?"

"Whatever do you mean, my love? I am telling you nothing but what happened as best as I remember it."

"You're so annoying sometimes, I wonder why I even married you in the first place."

"Because you fell for me 27 years ago, why? Do you regret it?"

Harry said as their bodies relaxed, the playful banter becoming softer and quieter.

"Very much, I would rather have been with someone else if I knew you would be this annoying, posh twat."

"That is not a gentleman thing to say to someone."

"Look at my eyes and tell me whether I care or not."

Y/n raised his head hid chin now resting on Harry's chest.

"I love you."

Harry said as the hand on Y/n's hair now rested on his cheek as he caressed it carefully and lovingly.

"You cheeky, bugger, I love you too."

They leaned in for a kiss, not rough nor was it delicate, just the perfect kiss to fit the moment and to slightly calm the fire of their love just for a moment of respite between them. They fell asleep in each other's arms, not wanting to let go, Y/n face buried in Harry's neck and his face in Y/n' hair. Just the way they like it, close and feeling the love they hold for one another.

[itsnathateasy]

Armin Week | Day 6 | SFW Prompts | Bunny Armin OR Cadet Corps Shenaningans

word count: 863 warnings: none author’s note: there are a few shenanigans in there, i promise!

@armin-week-2024

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

i couldn’t resist writing some headcanons about cadet!armin and you dating!

cadet!armin DEFINITELY stays up late with you. you casually plan these dates during supper, then pretend to go to bed, only to sneak out a couple of hours later hehe

these dates are mostly reserved for snogging

and you literally always get caught by eren and mikasa who share your not-so-secret plan

cadet!armin is the cutest by always waiting for you to be done with your food and walks with you to the kitchen where you leave your empty plates and glasses

cadet!armin also makes sure you’re together for cleaning and kitchen duties, armin is so meticulous, but you keep distracting him, making up choreos with sasha and putting on the funniest of shows and connie always joins in the dancing

but captain levi is never satisfied with your cleaning, and even less with your terrible dance moves someone pls write a hc where levi joins in a broomstick and mop/bucket dance off to sum up, your cleaning duties tend to last quite longer than they should

cadet!armin isn’t the best at hand to hand combat but the fact that you practice together all the time has helped him greatly improve and has also filled his head with nasty thoughts

cadet!armin is very protective over you and gets kinda possessive (in a cute way) when you’re not allowed to pair up for tasks because why should you be allowed to gather apples with jean just the two of you when he’s stuck with mikasa?

and no, secretly saving him a few apples to snack on when you’re sneaking out didn’t really help, but no apples were left and armin was much calmer and confident about you hanging out with the other guys from then on

cadet!armin makes sure you study together, teaching each other the material you find most difficult to understand. you even expand those study dates to invite the rest of the group, which you both regret because no studying was done BUT you both find great joy in spending time with your friends, these study dates somehow make your alone time feel even more special

also, cadet!armin used to tutor eren and connie when they needed help, but he found out they only asked for help so that they could secretly plot their pranks and needed armin’s intel

cadet!armin takes AGES to properly confess to you and ask you out even though you two have been practically an item for who knows how long

“armin, we’ve been dating for months, what are you talking about?”

“i mean uh, we’ve never really- i mean it’s official now! we never properly discussed are relationship status before”

“have you been seeing anyone else besides me?”

armin is now PROFUSELY blushing and stutters at your remark “YOU KNOW THIS ISN’T WHAT I MEANT, I LOVE YOU”

“he has been seeing eren behind your back y/n”, a comment from jean which only earned him a glare from you and a punch from eren

“this was unnecessary” armin says to eren

“punching jean is never unnecessary armin, trust me” he said and rubbed his fist against his palm

cadet!armin is the one to pour you your tea in the mornings while you and the other cadets are still having breakfast, only to mess up and spill it all on you, him and whoever is sitting beside you because you kept talking to him and looking at him with those eyes “and this is how you waste an entire kettle of fine black tea cadets” a snear remark from captain levi

levi didn’t even bother putting armin, sasha and you on cleaning duty again, he knows this battle is long lost

cadet!armin pretends to have such a hard time getting his odm straps on once in a while, so he can come to you for help, only to see you tying all these straps and knots and have you touch him, he’s cunning like that

cadet!armin was often scared because he wasn’t as strong and skilled as his classmates, but he was never afraid to admit his fear or back down, he was particularly afraid the first time you tried your odm gear and he practically smashed himself flat on the wall, the incident was a running joke in your year

connie would always make fun of the incident and he even tried to imitate armin’s face when they took him down, “it’s not even funny anymore connie, just drop it” eren would step up for his friend

“yeah, remember that time captain caught you trying to cook when the fire was out? THAT was funny” said jean and pulled armin closer with one arm, ruffling his hair

“th- thanks jean. was my face really that funny?”

“yes, it was, but it’s been 6 months, connie should entertain himself with a new joke”

the blush on armin’s face was beyond words

“maybe we’d all be funnier if we were foods, right?” sasha asked, looking at you, then at mikasa

“drop it potato girl” reiner exclaimed in a pissed off way

“NOW THIS JOKE IS EVEN OLDER THAN ARMIN’S!” sasha screamed as she started chasing reiner around

[itsrainingbubbles]

Law once got so drunk he showed up on the sunny, flowers in hand, and asked Luffy to be his boyfriend

They were already dating at this point

When told this he changed his question and asked Luffy to marry him

Luffy was about to say yes but Nami hit him on the head and told him he shouldn't accept when law is drunk off his ass and Luffy just pouted all night long as he waited for law to sober up so he could finally say yes

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[screampied]

❛ BON APPÉTIT, BABY! ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. stupid ovulation week is approaching soon and out of nowhere, you get baby fever. you ask your sugar daddy for help but his version of ‘help’ is trying to get you pregnant.

wc. 5.1k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), praise, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, implied multiple rounds, size kink, ōral (f! receiving), he makes out w your panties, overstim, major brēeding kink, nıpple play, spıt, impact play, petnames.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist.

fuck, these cramps never knew when to quit.

you were crawled up in a ball on the sofa, suffering in agonizing silence. you sigh, taking a brisk glance near the grandfather clock that sits beside satoru gojo, your sugar daddy’s glass cabinets. oh, you missed him. it’s been a few good months with him as his sugar baby and you felt like a princess—no, a queen. he’s showered you with many many praises, not just gifts but of course, that too. you’re so lonely in his mansion, but you wondered what he was doing right now. probably working, you knew how busy of a businessman he was, but you missed him. his smell, his presence, his petnames. whipping out your phone, you unlock it, skimming toward his contact. ‘toru’ with a pretty pink heart as his contact, you text him a sweet forward ‘miss you.’

not even seconds later, he replies, giving your message a heart. ‘Hi, sweetheart. i miss you too. being a good girl for me, yeah?’

with a pout, your eyes skim through his flirty words and you press the video call button. you couldn’t wait. . you needed to see him. satoru answers it, and as expected, he’s sat upright in his office. so handsome, his snowy white hair was ruffled yet neatly slicked back and parted. he wore the suit you picked out for him, the jet-black one with a tie that makes his pretty blue eyes pop. “hey you,” a raspy voice utters on the phone, and he’s snickering at how you’re just lazily slump on the couch, bored out of your damn skull. “put some clothes on, darlin’.”

“no,” you grump, although you did have clothes on. clothes that basically consisted of a thin sage tank top and panties. satoru was typing on his computer. you heard the quickness of his fingers typing away as he’s taking every few glances to look at you again. “come home, ‘toru. these cramps are killin’ me,” and you mumble the last part under your breath. “. . andiwantababy.”

it’s a long silent pause and he’s fully looking at you through the screen now. all that could be heard in the background was the screeching and beeps of his costly fax machine.

satoru’s got a glint in his eyes before his voice pitches, and he slyly hums. “oh, you want a baby, sweets? my, you really do need me ‘ta come home, huh.”

you squeeze your thighs together, positioning your phone to lie in landscape mode—you were still a bit sensitive from earlier, from touching yourself. as your breath excitingly hitches, you couldn’t help but pout again.

“ ‘toru, think ‘m havin’ baby fever or something,” and your words were oh so sweet. satoru’s sitting up against his chair, leaning up against his palm. the shine of his expensive g-shock glimmers in the light within each time he moves. “come home, please.”

“sweetheart,” he tsks, two white arched brows piercing together. he could never say no to you, he spoiled you so much . . not that he never minded either. you were his baby, and satoru playfully scoffs at your needy declaration. “you really can’t wait another hour? i’m almost done.”

“no,” you grouse, a cute glower stretching across your features, marinating as you speak. satoru chuckles at your bratty persistence, and you watch as he fixes his tie, lightly tugging on it.

“fine, fine,” he gruffs. “i’m coming, princess. wear that new designer set i bought for you, okay? ya know the one, the rose-gold?”

smearing your glossed lips against each other, you give him a nod. you ached for him, each second you spent on the phone was a constant reminder of how he wasn’t there with you. satoru found your clinginess adorable though. it was cute how you’d always text and call him while he’s at work. even if his responses were hours late, he’d always get back to you, sending you sweet ‘hi baby’ and ‘i miss you more, pretty,’ ‘s.

if you were feeling bold, you’d send him a few pictures of yourself in one of the many expensive custom-made sets of lingerie he buys you.

his favorite would have to be the ‘satoru gojo’ exclusive brand of lingerie for women, he literally bought the entire stock of all colors just for you.

“okay,” you mumble, already making your way toward his bedroom. a few of his servants and butlers were dusting away at furniture and his entire mansion was huge. it was spacey, you could practically get lost in it. as you stomp lightly, the bare soles of your feet slide against the glassy-textured floor before you glance down at your screen. “drive safe.”

“i will, sweets. see you soon, yeah?”

with a beep, the call ends and it’s just you trapped in your own silent thoughts.

as you made your way to the master bedroom, immediately, you’re met with the loud cologne scent of satoru. it’s enchanting, it’s always the same smell of cinnamon and spices. satoru gojo always smelled rich regardless. rich was his middle name. you dig through your walk-in closet he had made for you, fishing out the set he wanted to see you wear. it was dashingly pretty.

he bought the rose-gold set as a gift for your birthday, and even if it did hurt his pockets a lot, he never cared. anything for you—his pretty baby.

about forty minutes later, satoru returns home finally and he yawns, stretching his long limbs. you scurry to him, your head reaching just near the center of his chest and he lightly jerks back.

“hey baby,” he returns the hug, big callused hands roaming up and down your exposed skin. the lingerie fit you perfectly, displaying your curves and gorgeous physique. satoru buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss. “you’re so spoiled. i can’t always leave work jus’ because you miss me, y’know.”

“i know,” you let off a soft moan, his soft lips creating gingerly mushy traces everywhere near your skin. he was always so tender, nips of kisses slowly turning into flicks with his tongue. satoru’s left hand slowly snakes near your leg, raising it up before wrapping it around his slim torso. your ankle rubs against the burberry belt he wore. it clanks loudly and he then lifts you up. “s- satoru!”

“what?” he hums, leading you closer toward the bed.

you heard the playfulness in his tone, and he’s got you in such a firm grasp. his fingertips continue to roam down your soft skin, snagging against the laced fabric that wraps around your body like a christmas present. “god, you’re so hot,” he murmurs in a raspy tone, and you glance at his parted slick backed hair. it’s unkempt now, white strands and tresses running down his eyes. he lies you down on the bed gently, and that’s when he gets on top of you.

you gulp, meeting the eyes of satoru. pretty blue eyes, they’re always so mesmerizing to look at.

but this time, he’s got a more feral look in his pupils as they dilate. “sweetheart,” he whispers, using a thumb to caress the edge of your twitching lip. with the way you’re prettily sprawled all out like this for him at his very mercy, there’s so much he wanted to do. satoru’s eyes never leave yours, not for a single second. “do you really want a baby or is just the baby fever?”

“b- both,” you gasp, not even noticing his hand creeping down between your legs, parting them apart.

you moan, feeling his palm rub up against the outline of your panties. so soaked, satoru’s breath hitches at your sweet whimpers and he’s so close up to you. so close that his rock-hard boner presses up against you and fuck, it’s hard. a visible tinted bulge was sticking out the center of his slacks and it’s driving him mad.

the mental image of you with a swollen tummy, all plump and baring his child, it makes him groan. satoru’s had his fair share amount of sugar babies in the past, but none of them were you.

“such a silly little girl,” he huffs, a bit of humor in his tone. but not wanting to waste any time, he leans in, capturing your lips into a deep hungry kiss.

whiny moans pour into his mouth - he’s sweet.

the minty kind of sweet where you taste peppermint lingering on his tongue.

satoru kisses sloppy this time, gradually grinding his body against yours. it’s incredibly sloppy, not much passion and more-so filth—strings of spit tangle with each other, forming little lustrous cobwebs of saliva before he sucks on your tongue. his pretty white lashes flutter before he opens them, staring at you, grunting right in your mouth. his boner continues to rub off against your clothed pussy and his groans only grow louder.

“fuuuuckk,” he swears, smacks of lips ringing through his ears. it was something about you, he didn’t know what it was but you were addicting.

satoru starts to peel off the pieces of lingerie piece by piece. by peel, he’s carelessly tearing through it as if the entire designer set didn’t cost him an arm, a leg, and a fucking torso. but again, even with his pockets swollen and suffering because of you, he’d buy you the whole world if he could. well, he probably could. he’s satoru gojo. “sweets, ‘m gonna devour you.”

five words.

five words that constantly went on a loop in your head as satoru’s eating out your cunt like a starved man.

he was starved, it’s been hours since he’s seen you. as he’s delving his face right between the plush of your thighs. you moan, chomping the front row of your teeth down on your quivering bottom lip. fuck, he was just nasty.

merely seconds passed and he’s already slobbering over your pussy. strands and strands of glossy spit trickles from his lips and onto your folds. “ ‘toruuuu,” you whimper, relishing in the way his tongue curls all throughout your drooling core. he’s maneuvering all kinds of shapes and circles, even spelling all letters of his name on your cunt with his tongue. scarlet plump lips of his gently kiss near your labia whilst warm breath ghosts near your sappy slit. shaking all from his tongue, the bed grows rickety from your movements and you inhale a sharp breath.

your fingers get intertwined between his white locks of hair and you pull tight.

his head tugs forward into you and he grunts, swaying his slick pink muscle in and out of your cunt. “mngh,” he groans, and that’s when he sneaks a hand between your pried open legs.

you stare down at him as he’s devouring you whole, slurping everything out of you until he’s satisfied - and that won’t be for a good while.

it doesn’t take a while before he’s already completely pussy drunk.

satoru’s fingers slither near your pussy and as his flat tongue repeats to lap lap lap up your syrupy sweet juices, he pops inside a single finger.

an exasperated breathy gasp snatches straight out the back of throat before you immediately feel the mouthwatering stretch of his digits and it’s toe curling.

if it was one thing about satoru, his fingers were long, slender, and also very very thick.

with a single swirl motion he’s making with his finger shoved deep inside, you’re already at the verge of breaking. crumbling because of his sloppy tongue. his fingers could stretch you out just as much as his cock could.

satoru even had you keep your panties on for him. the same panties he bought you as a gift.

a gift where he collaborated with victoria’s secret, your panties had both of his infamous initials bedazzled on the front and back. god, every time he traces his tongue over the tiny little beads, it drives him crazy every time.

you drive him crazy.

his flat laid tongue teasingly licks at the silk fabric before it turns into a whole raunchy make out sesh. pretty white lashes flap as he’s slurping everything out of you, missing no spot.

he couldn’t afford to, not when you tasted this good.

“we’re a ‘lil squirmy today, huh,” he snickers, feeling your weak thighs writhe because of his tongue.

it felt so good, the way he’s casually slurping you, eating your pussy as if it was the last thing to devour on earth. such raunchy sloshing sloshes cry out from your cunt and he groans. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, yanking on his messy tresses before he flicks his tongue against that spot.

it’s soft and spongy, and with the help of his long fingers curling and scissoring in and out of your sopping pussy, you let off a candied three-second shriek. “oh, darlin. found it, did i?”

“fuck, ‘toru,” your body falls back against the silk pillows.

multiple wanton whimpers slither from your lips as he’s continuously toying his tongue against your g-spot. it seemed as if his tongue was helping with your cramps entirely. such pressure builds up in your body and you were just so hot that you felt like you were gonna explode. “gonna cum, fuck fuck.” you’re babbling out pathetic cries that fall deaf to his pointed ears. satoru hums in smug amusement, jaw feeling tight and locking but he doesn’t care.

he was feeling pretty exhausted from coming back from work but just a single taste of your pussy and suddenly, he was energized once again.

ironic.

his two fingers continue to swivel around inside your gripping walls as your body slumps into the mattress in lewd defeat. satoru grunts, grinding his boner against the edge of the bed to calm himself but you made it so hard.

you made him hard.

as he’s luxuriating in this eagle view of your legs prettily laid up for him, he’s merely knuckles deep.

you can barely stay still and the bed’s staring to grow rickety. satoru’s speed of his tongue doesn’t falters, and as he’s slurping every drop from your sappy folds—you let out your final elongated moan. it’s long, your legs erupt dramatically and shake within his hold before you’re finally cumming. it drags for a long time and you’re just nothing but hysterical.

overwrought with emotions and pleasure, your legs finally collapse—as if they weren’t already basically limp, you exhale deeply.

“fuck, fuck fuuuck,” you repeat, watching with hazy murky eyes as he pulls your panties back toward the center with his teeth. satoru licks up your sweet saccharine-flavored juices that seep out from you, savoring the honeyed taste on his tongue before you pull on his hair . . hard.

“tsk. watch the hair, girl,” he warns you, still being cheeky and playful.

your cunt embarrassingly twitches once he makes eye contact with you again. satoru sits up, his entire chin coated with nothing but your slit. its a stream of it and it’s pretty. it was just the way it trickles down and he laps the crevices of his lips with his tongue. “so cute,” he murmurs, and he closes the gap between you both. as satoru feels your trembly legs wrap around his waist, he pulls you into another deep passionate kiss.

you moan right into his mouth, lazily tossing your arms over his broad-built shoulders before feeling him yank your panties down your legs and ankles.

satoru’s body was hot.

he still had his business attire on, and he feels your hand slowly removing his tie. your other hand runs down his tux, sliding inside the center to feel his washboard chiseled and hiding underneath the piles of formal work clothes.

“such a needy ‘lil thing,” he whispers gruffly between kisses, chuckling once he sees the forming pout tweak against your swollen lips.

satoru rubs a thumb over you lip before his crystalline-colored irises meet yours. the silence was cold, he’s got a wolffish smirk compressing against his lips before he mutters right near your ear. “now, let’s give ya that baby, sweetheart.”

saying ‘baby’ was an understatement.

with the way satoru was about to fuck you, he planned on giving you triplets.

maybe even more, and the constant rambles of how little ‘ole you was stuck in his mansion all day with baby fever did something to him. oh, poor thing, suffering with cramps all day. it was the end of the world. to you at least it was. but like the loving sugar daddy he was, satoru figured he’d do his best to ease your little ‘problems.’

“gimme that pretty arch, goooood..” he purrs, using a hand to rub down your exposed back.

satoru groans—his formal trousers / pants were pulled down to his ankles and he’s staring at your pretty ass. so cute. he watches with a carnal glint in his eye as you position yourself, gnawing on your lip and the bars of your enclosure. the anticipation was about to bury you six feet under.

his leaky tip slowly smears and bedaubs against your dripping clit and you whine. your hands, clammy and all, roughly grip onto the richly-made sheets.

his tip was fat, it’s got a glistening swollen head that’s teasing you. satoru’s breathing grows shallow once he sees your pussy cutely trying to swallow. “fuck, please,” you croak, desperate for him to go inside. he always does this—everytime.

right before he’s preparing himself to fuck you raw, satoru smacks his bulbous cockhead against your sappy weeping folds, hearing your sweet little cries grow unsatisfied. all you could think about was having him breed you full . . over and over and over again, you didn’t just want it, you needed it.

you needed him.

“relaaaax, sweet thing. ‘m comin,” a chortle dies from his throat as he feels you trying to wriggle your hips.

you’re impatient, and once he’s fully aligned, he’s finally dipping his weighty cock inside your perfectly tucked folds.

suddenly, your needy whines stop and they turn into whines of rapture. satoru trails a big hand toward the cusps of your ass, tracing down the cute curvy curvature of your body before your skin’s met with a rude swat.

you moan as he’s easing himself inside your gummy walls, stretching you open even more than his fingers did. “atta fuckin’ girl. let me in, biiiiiig stretch, there we go.”

the stretch . . you’d never get used to it, never.

your stomach heaves once he’s reeling his hips in. “s- shit,” you kiss your teeth, your knees already buckling and becoming weak. satoru spanks your bare ass again just to hear those sweet yelps leave your lips. he’s so fucking big, it doesn’t take long before he’s bottoming out and you hear the welcoming ‘pop’. satoru groans once he starts to move, one hand holding onto your hip—another focused on your pretty perked ass. he likes this view, the view of his sweet girl arched over on all fours. satoru bites his lip as he starts to make delicious haste with his sharp keen hips.

“god,” his head throws itself back briefly at a certain angle.

already, white strands stick to his forehead with the help of his sweat substituting as glue. satoru’s voice shakes as his cock’s fully in, your clingy gripping walls were so warm and it makes his mouth water from the inside. “missed my favorite pussy so fuckin’ bad, so bad,” and you feel a few droplets plop down your back. satoru’s eyes rove over, watching you writhe again and he sheepishly snickers.

he was drooling.

“heh, sorry.” and he wipes his mouth with his wrist, the feral feeling pooling in his gut never fading.

you’re a mess underneath him, the second he starts to drill his hips into you—it’s over.

satoru’s stamina was always unhinged.

the bed croaks and groans from the constant shakes ‘n creaks it has to endure each second. the hinges were quite loud, you heard the rusty creaking wood that reverbs throughout the room. his cock continued to pound into you as his body’s on top of yours, in full sync with your own sloppy movement.

you’re whimpering, your head already being smushed against the pillow as the undersides of his thigh start to feel minuscule pangs. “toru, toruuu,” you mewl out in a melodic whisper. he’s hitting you deep, your glossed lips part into a circle before you huff.

each strike of his hips felt more precise and brutal. . you wanted more, you wanted to feel him more.

“i know, i know,” he coos, thumbs circling around your waist as he holds you in place.

satoru’s hips were so sculptured and sharp that they give you whiplash every time. he’s got such power within each salacious strike that it makes your head spin. every single stroke, you’re left stupid and speechless with your tongue already dangling out of your mouth. the room grew steamy within a span of a few minutes. it smells like nothing but pure passionate sex.

by now, your eyes were rolling toward the very backs of your sockets in utter elated pleasure. you’re seeing nothing but splashes of ivory black and white. “aht aht. c’mere, don’t fuckin’ run sweetheart,” his voice was as smooth as silk. satoru feels your unsteady hips trying to crawl away but he reels you back in. “nuh uh. take it, take it, take it, girl.” he groans, his heavy hanging balls thwacking right against your ass within each pivotal thrust.

the band of his platinum-colored watch rubs off against your skin again—he’s watching you jerk back against him. his cock was so full, he licks his lips at the thought of your pretty pussy and how you were gonna wring him dry like you always do.

“fuck me, fuck me ‘toru,” your whimpering words were repeating itself over and over as if you were a broken record. the pit of your stomach coils as each second draws itself out before he’s grunting gruffly. your cunt’s sloppy, coating his base with sheeny amounts and globs of slick. white hairs from his neat pubes stick against his skin and satoru’s now grinding into you. “ah, right there, ngh please.”

“thaaaaat’s it pretty girl,” he snarls in a raspy voice, feeling the fat smacking stings of your ass jolt backward into his pelvis. “fuck me right back, mhm. gimme this pussy, make me proud baby.”

as he’s whispering all sorts of praises and dirty words, you can feel yourself reaching your limit soon — it’s so close.

a fluttering sensation brews up inside your stomach before satoru suddenly groans. “fuck,” his cock’s wholly stretching you out to your elastic limit before it meets that same textured spongey barrier again. he knows right away because your knees buckle, your breath grows quicker, and you let off another surprised shriek.

right there, x marks the spot after all and he was constantly hitting his tip there until you let out cute shrilling screams.

“goddamn, ‘m gonna cum, sweets,” and his voice grows more shakier the longer he’s inside.

it’s as if time stood still.

the constant rotation of swiveling gyrations from each angle, each body has your head spinning like a merri-go-‘round.

you were probably looking a dumb cock-drunk mess. unkempt strands of hair were already flopping down your face and occluding your view of vision entirely. satoru pierces his white brows together before lightly shoving you further into the mattress. as you’re cutely arched forward with your ass raised up, he leans way into your back, wrapping a hand softly around the back your throat.

“gonna fuckin’ give ya twins. one isn’t enough, pretty girl. need that tummy swollen ‘n plump s- so bad,” and he inches his lips toward your spine, still pumping into you deep. “gonna make you my pretty ‘lil mama.”

as he continued to spoke, you whine as his cock plummets into your wet sopping cunt over and over. it’s to the point where your ears recognize the slapping sounds of skin. the squelches your wet cunt made had him groaning.

he’s breathing in huge chunks of air as he’s merely crushing you with his weight. as you both robustly rut into each other in flawless unison, satoru’s hefty weight that hovers over you anchors into yours, slamming further into you.

“fuck, don’t stop, hngh,” and your words were as shaky as your chattering teeth.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, literally.

sweaty open palms paw at every part of your body. near your doughy tits, your ass—his favorite part, and even your pretty plush thighs that were nearly gluing together. “satoru, satoru, pleaseee.”

“mhm, sweets..” his voice tremors and cracks before a sharp gasp wretches out of him. out of nowhere, you feel his hips come to an abrupt stop and he groans loudly.

it’s so loud that it’s an almost bellowing roar, both of his ears clank at the blissful sensations. satoru grows quiet once he feels it, that familiar pressure that’s been stored full inside him for the longest.

he’s cumming, and it’s so much, a slimy knot shoots out and freely dribbles into your inviting swollen cunt and he chews the inside of his cheek. “fuck m- me,” he stammers, still holding both sides of your rickety hips.

the room’s filled with husky pants and skin slapping until he’s slowing down - velvety stringy ribbons spurt into you raw until he’s hoarsely panting like a dog at the sight.

he can’t stop staring. such a mess, but you’re his mess. god, the way it just leisurely trickles inside of you, spilling all down the sides of your jittery folds because it can’t keep all of it in. the sounds were even more filthy, sloshing squeaks feels the room and he goes quiet just to get a good enough listen. satoru came so much—so so much that it lasted for a plethora of long obscene seconds. as he’s trying to get over his orgasm, he’s still chewing at the inside of his cheek, his face growing flustered. his hips become strikingly sloppy and he’s basically humping you. “god, have my fuckin’ kids, sweetheart. ugh,” and satoru’s as prettiest as he’s ever been.

with his lip dragging from his teeth biting near the bottom, his eyes scrunch shut and white brows curl up. huffing out a big deep exhale, he’s sweating bullets.

his thick calves felt like they were on fire but he didn’t have enough of you yet. there was never enough of you. you had him whipped—he’s allowing you to milk him, relishing in the fact that your sweet cunt was just wringing him dry to the max.

satoru steadies your hips with his quavery hands, peering down at the masses of sweltering hot cum that drips down your legs and he grunts. “s- satoru,” you shiver, gasping once he pulls out only to flip you right over.

“not done. still got so much more ‘ta give my pretty girl,” he breathes, and it’s a feral look in his eyes. satoru raises your leg up slowly, his rings tickling against your bare skin. “lie on your back. i fuckin’ need more.”

satoru fucks you for hours.

any position you could even think of, he’s doing it.

both stacked bodies glisten with sheets of sweat as they rut back and forth against each other, fingers merrily intertwined. he’s determined to get you pregnant and your moans only fuel him. the rowdy snaps of his vigorous hips only grew stronger.

his stamina, you’re blinking, wondering if he’s even human. despite the drops of perspiration tearing from the sides of his face and his heaving long breaths, satoru showed no signs of fatigue.

he was drilling his thick cock into you again and again—giving you orgasm after orgasm.

your toes curl as you’re trying to keep up with him but it’s to no avail. weighty balls continue to rigorously slam into your core as you’re currently in mating press. the compressing weight of satoru melting against you makes you whine.

he’s so warm, and with the way he’s breathing down your neck, babbling how he’s gonna make you the most prettiest mommy in the world makes your cunt throb. “you’re so pretty like this,” he moans into your neck, his thrusts becoming weak yet again.

globs of cum dribble from your pussy as he’s right between your thighs, his cock springing up. he hisses at the feeling, feeling your arms wrap around his back. satoru groans at the twinge near his extensor muscles that flex.

you gave him scratches that ran all down his back. he pays for your weekly manicures just so you can paint his back with scratches with your pretty acrylics.

his pretty girl.

you’re a stammering mess, plugged all the way up with such creamy thin ropes and your body was already limp. with his dick still delved inside, satoru grabs your chin—pressing another kiss against your lips. you moan, twisting and tangling your balmy hot tongue with his before he presses a hand down on your tummy. you whine in his mouth, skimming your crumped up fingers down his little undercut.

satoru groans at the feeling of your digits toying with the back part of his hair. “s- satoru,” you speak between kisses in short gasps for air. your ankle brushes up and down his back and it makes him grunt - your touch made him weak. “ ‘m so full, fuck.”

“yeah you fuckin’ are, sweetheart,” he licks near your bottom lip.

satoru’s body was so hot against yours, even while he was fully milked out he was still stuffing you full. the sheets were a mess, but he didn’t care in the slightest. his cerulean-blue eyes rove down towards your chest before he leans down. you stare at him, panting—and that’s when he latches his tongue against your neglected tits.

so perfect,

he makes sure to lather viscous strings of saliva on both of them, including your sensitive perky nipples. “mhm.” he groans, feeling your fingers fish through his white tangled strands. he’s sucking on each of your breasts with the most stupidest pussy drunken grin.

after a few seconds, he removes his spit-slick lips, a string of saliva following before he gazes up at you. with a sly worn out gaze, he cups both of your tits with his hands, giving them a good squeeze. “aw. my girls are gonna be full of milk soon,” and satoru kisses near your chin, your forehead, your cheek, and then finally, your lips.

you return the wet sultry kiss before he abruptly pulls away, holding your chin. “can’t wait to be a daddy, darlin,” he says in a gruff drowsy voice. you watch as he gradually pulls out, moving his head down toward your bare tummy. satoru presses a kiss near your navel before his eyes stare right back up at you.

“now let’s wait for this pretty ‘lil bump, hm?”

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[too-deviant]

strategic manoeuvre.

— WITH…ART DONALDSON!

contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios

You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 

You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 

But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 

You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 

Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 

It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 

You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 

“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 

Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 

(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).

It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 

“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”

We she’d said. As in her and Art. 

You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 

From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 

The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 

It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 

You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 

You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 

He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 

But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 

But.

But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 

You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 

But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 

The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.

(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).

But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 

In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 

You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 

Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”

He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”

“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 

He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”

You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 

Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  

The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 

Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 

“Lily likes you.”

You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 

“Tashi likes you.” 

You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 

“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”

“What?”

“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 

“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 

“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 

“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 

He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 

The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 

But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 

“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”

Out of all the things… 

“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 

“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”

“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 

He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 

“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”

“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 

He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 

You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 

“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 

Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”

Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”

He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 

You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 

His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 

When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 

You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 

Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 

You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 

Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 

“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 

(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).

divider by @cafekitsune !!