#yes i know it’s up to me to change and I’m working on it

[madamechrissy]

I'll look After You

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)

Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.

CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3

Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3

You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.

As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.

Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.

But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he her dad? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?

It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.

The last man you’d been with.

Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.

You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.

You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.

‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’

Yeah. That would go over well.

“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.

He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.

“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”

“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.

Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.

“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”

“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.

“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.

“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?

You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…

“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.

He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?

“Can I… please… Can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.

“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk out of a produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.

After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, he’s out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.

He needs to take care of you both.

“I thought you’d freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do with…”

“God no, no. I mean I don’t know what to think, but… she’s beautiful. Like her mom.” His words make you flush.

“I’m a wreck, Satoru, look at me.”

“You just need some help, doing it all alone?”

“You don’t have to, okay? I can do it.”

He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility you’re keeping under wraps as best as you can. “I want to help, this is on me too.”

“It’s not, I was on the pill but… antibiotics.” You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. “It’s all on me, I’d love you to be in her life, but don’t feel obligated to pay for anything.”

“You’re stubborn, will she be too?” He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time you’ve heard that sound.

“She’s already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldn’t come out.” She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. “Wanna hold her?”

“Can you… tell me how to?” He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man he’s so sweet and precious, nervous even.

“Yes, hold your arms like this.” He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. “Hold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.”

“Reign?” He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. She’s… “Perfect.”

“Isn’t she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?”

“It’s… perfect.” He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You can’t explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. “HI there, dumpling.”

“Dumpling? She's got a nickname huh.” He grins so big, nodding.

“I moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?”

“Oh like ten minutes. Would you… like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.”

“I'd love to. Can I get her something please?”

“You don't have to… but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?” Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.

“I… oh my god. I love her?” He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. “Is that crazy?”

“No. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck “

“Hey…” He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. “I am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.” He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.

“I never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah me too.”

Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. “We don't even know each other, it's insane huh?”

“Absolutely insane. But… I can't wait to spend time with her.” He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.

“Come over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.” He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.

“Last name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?” And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.

“Maybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.” Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. “I am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.”

“They're cute, little snowmen.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. “See you both soon.”

You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. “Can you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.”

******

There’s a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. You’re wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.

You can’t believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoru’s grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.

“Satoru, you… what is all this?” You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.

“All that is for Regin, this is for you though.”

“What!? It’s too many things!”

“Miss, may I?”

You realize he’s just standing there struggling, and come to then. “Oh, yes I’m so sorry! Put them on the table?”

Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, it’s about the size of Satoru’s living room altogether, but it’s comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees you’ve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.

Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. “I wanted to get her something, remember?”

“This is a whole store though!” Kiyotaka leaves now, and you’re delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. “Oh my god…”

“I just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?”

You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. “She doesn’t know colors yet, Satoru.”

Of course she doesn’t.

Satoru truly doesn’t know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. “Of course not, I… where is she? Is she napping?”

“She is, but don’t worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? She’s gonna wear them for like a week!” You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. “She can’t even walk yet… ah, but these are so cute though.” You’re clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. “Oh my god, I’m a shitty host!”

“You’re cute.” His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. “You look pretty today.”

“Oh thank you, I didn’t want you to think I’m constantly a monster.” He snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’re cute either way. This was you pregnant?” He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“Yes, I was a whale, oh god.” He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.

“No, you were beautiful.” Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, it’s like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.

“You’re very sweet, Satoru… thank you.” You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.

“Did you like being pregnant?”

The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.

“I did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasn’t coming out.” You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. “Would you like to see more pictures later?”

“I’d love to. You didn’t open what I got you.”

“You shouldn’t get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?”

“Yes please.” He starts munching down on them, moaning. “You baked these?”

“I bake when I’m nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.” He smiles then, you’re tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.

“Open it, now.” He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.

“To a spa!? I haven’t ever been to a spa? What I can’t!”

“You will. When you’re comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.” You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months you’ve had is too much, you shake your head.

“I can’t, it’s all too much, you shouldn’t feel like you have to do this!” He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.

“Sweetheart, I’m fucking rich, okay?”

“I assumed… wealthy with your clothes…”

“No, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?”

“I just do it, Satoru. I just do it.” He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still don’t know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.

“Just go relax one day, not now, when you’re more comfortable.” Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as you’d leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.

“I’ll go get her for you.” You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoru’s heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. “Dad spoiled you already.”

“Not even close to spoiled yet.” He murmurs, snuggling her to him.

“Have a seat, please.” He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.

“She barely cries?”

“That’s around you, it seems. She likes you already.” Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness he’s never known, but also such a longing.

“I wish I could have been there.” He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.

“You’re here now.” You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. “I thought about you a lot, I mean… I tried to find you.”

“I wish you had.”

“Really?” He nods then, emotional. “Satoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure you’d turn and run.”

“Nah, why? Look at her.” She’s blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. “So what do I like… do with her? Besides holding her?”

You laugh softly then, it’s so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that it’s weird. “Well you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.”

He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. “Oh?”

“Yeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. I’ll show you.” You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.

“That thing is easy access.” He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.

It’s very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, she’s sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. “You’re gonna laugh at this pain?”

“She’s just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t think you did that.” You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.

“That’s a tragedy.” You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, it’s still not comprehending, it’s still taking him a lot to conceive it’s real. “Look at her face, oh my god!”

Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. “She’s milk drunk.”

“What now? She looks high as fuck.” You hold in your laughter so you don’t wake her now, her eyes are shut and she’s still sucking on nothing.

“She does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? I’ll show you where she sleeps.”

He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoru’s cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.

You show him to the only room in your little place, it’s got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.

“She’ll like a little burrito.” You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.

“She kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.”

“You know so much… Have you had any experience before?” You both watch as she settles now.

“No, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But something…” You trail off then, shaking your head. “Sorry.”

“No, please go on. Something?”

“Something told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But… I knew I could do it, even if it’s a lot.”

Satoru’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. “You’re doing great.”

You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. “I needed that, shit I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. “You’re a great mom, I can already see.”

“Shit…” You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoru’s cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. “I really appreciate that. It’s been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.”

“I can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.”

“I couldn’t…”

“I want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?” You shake your head, earning his little glare. “Stubborn little brat.”

“Excuse me!?” You glare right back, and he grins.

“You are one!”

“Me a brat?” Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.

“Mmhmm.” Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.

“We should step out so we don’t wake her.” You murmur, when you’re back in the living room you’re carefully folding all the clothes he’s bought. “Oh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?”

“I’m up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.” You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. “My god you’re a good cook.”

“Thank you, I love to cook.” You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. “Ugh, I’m gonna hate leaving her to work.”

Satoru scowls now. “Huh?”

“Maternity leave is over in two weeks. I’m just going to work part time though, so I’ll still see her plenty. Maybe I’ll bring her to work?”

“Where do you work?”

“A library, I’m very exciting.” Satoru grins now.

“You look like a little librarian.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Goodie goodie, despite the bathroom…” You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.

“S-Satoru!” You’d cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.

“Fuck, look at you? So sexy…” He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. “Hear her?”

His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. You’re screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.

“That’s it, pretty, cum f’me huh?”

You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as he’d filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god it’s been almost a year and he can’t get your taste off his mind. He’d been with a few women here and there since he didn’t think he’d see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.

How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, he’d fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. He’d get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.

It’s like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. “Warm?” He teases.

“Um, a little.” You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. “All done?”

“Yeah, thank you.” He watches you wash them then, he can’t even fathom not having a dishwasher, but you’re there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesn’t want you to work, he doesn’t want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.

But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesn’t know if you’ll even take his offer when he makes it.

“How about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe… stay a night? I’ll have her something set up.”

“Stay the night?” You nearly break the dish you’re drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”

“Pshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?”

“A bit.” You’re both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. “It’s nice having a giant around.”

“Almost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.”

“The hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?”

“Hmm.” He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like you’ve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. “You dress like a little librarian.”

“Do I now? Not that night.”

His nostrils flare just a bit. “Not that night.”

Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. “Slutty little dress.”

“S-slutty? You’re… slutty!” You’re clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.

“Both are, listen to her… ha…” He’s got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. “F-fuck…”

“That dress still does things to my mind.” He admits, and you wonder then, how’d you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?

“Does it now?” Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. “I don’t think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.”

“I bet they’re sexy.”

“She gave me stretch marks too.”

“Sexy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. “You… don’t date anyone?”

“Nah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.” He couldn’t say it’s because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now it’s a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.

“I haven’t at all. I mean… I’m so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.”

“Been a while then?” His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and you’d let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.

“I’ll go get her.” You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.

“Why does she smell so good?”

“Baby smell. I know, it’s addictive.” You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoru’s lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.

“Will you come this weekend?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be there Satoru.”

“I am going to learn things, I promise.”

“Satoru, just take it one day at a time. You’re doing great.” He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.

“How’d it go, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, as he’s driving him back home.

“Amazing. They're so beautiful.”

“They?”

“I mean…” You both are. “Kiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?” The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.

“No, Mr. Gojo, but I see you’re so… happy?”

Satoru has a silly grin then. “I am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?”

“Certainly, Sir.” He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but it’s clear Satoru is beaming.

*****

“Come in, come in!” You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoru’s insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. He’s instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.

“Your place is beautiful.” You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.

“Thank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!” He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.

“She missed you too.” You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.

“Mama looks pretty.” He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, you’re a blushing mess, when Satoru’s blue eyes sweep over you.

“You’re too much.” You say, but you’re lowkey falling bad, you’d talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. You’d fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.

It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far it’s been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but it’s hard when he looks at you that way. “Too much? You haven’t seen shit. Come on.”

“Oh god.” You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.

“Ya ready?”

“I think so?” He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, it’s a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. There’s a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, it’s painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling. 

“I know, I went overboard, I don’t know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably won’t be-”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reign’s lap. “It’s beautiful, it’s so beautiful.”

He exhales in relief then. “Yeah!?”

You’re giggling now. “Yeah.”

“Mommy likes it, yes!” His enthusiasm is infectious, it’s the first time you think you’ve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. “I had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.”

“It’s the most thoughtful thing in the world.” You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. “But how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesn’t get bougie.”

“I want her bougie.” You laugh again softly, she’s playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, she’s enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. “She’s a princess, you know.”

You can’t take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didn’t have a father, and didn’t think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.

“I got too excited.” He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. “I want her to have everything, if my mom didn’t talk me out of it she’d already have a pony.” You snort then, even through your tears. “There, a little laugh.”

“It’s not you, this is amazing, it’s just… I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now… we won’t be? I don’t know how to process it, how to really believe it. But I’m so happy she’ll have it.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. “I didn’t think I’d have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, it’s not what I pictured.”

“Exactly. And… maybe I enjoy this too much.” You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.

“Me too much?” He raises a brow.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “So I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.

“Where’s this grandbaby of mine?”

Soon she’s melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoru’s made you both hot cocoa, family isn’t something you’ve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? It’s almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until she’s hungry.

“I have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?”

“I can do that?” You smile at him, nodding, and soon he’s got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.

“You know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two… to go out.” You both blush now, looking up at her.

“Go out?” You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.

“Yes, go out. Parents need time away.”

“We’re not… um…”

“I’d take you out.” Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.

“Yeah?” You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.

“Yeah.” He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. “What’s wrong!?”

“She needs to burp, calm down.” You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. “This is what you’ll do, it’s just some air in her tummy.”

“Oh thank god.”

“You three are precious.” His mom checks her phone then. “I have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.”

“Me too Mrs. Gojo!” She smiles, planting a kiss on Reign’s head then yours before she leaves. “She’s amazing!?”

“I know, right? She was dying to meet her.” His hand rubs Reign’s little back, so big it’s as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. “Thank you for having her.”

“Oh, Satoru… I just wish…”

“Yeah, me too.” He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. “I wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.”

“I’m so sorry… but I swear, she’ll not remember that, she won’t remember it at all.”

“But you remember.”

“Satoru, it's not your fault, don’t dare blame yourself.” He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.

“I don’t want you working yet. Will you let me help?”

“Satoru…” You shake your head. “You are not going to pay my bills.”

“Then stay with me? Stay the year with your baby… with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.”

“It’s too much of an offer, I can’t just live here! We aren’t even…”

“If you hate it I’ll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you… of both of you?” You stand, turning away, Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. “Please think about it.”

“I’m not a charity case, Satoru. I’m okay where I am.”

“I know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didn’t get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please just…” He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. “Please think about it.”

“It’s overwhelming, okay?” He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

“Satoru…” He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to.” For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell you’re conflicted. “Give it time, no rush, yeah?”

*****

After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoru’s house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoru’s off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. He’s learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and you’ve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.

He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reign’s name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoru’s had you in the guest room, but what you don’t know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reign’s forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.

He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and it’s about the time you’d have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man you’re falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah, sweets?” His little nickname always does something to you.

“I would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if you’re sure it’s still okay?”

Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, you’re laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and you’re flush against his body. Despite the endless times you’ve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both don’t know what’s okay, what’s not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.

“You’ll stay!?”

“I’ll stay. But I’ll cook, and help pick up, and-”

“Shh. Just stay.” He’s cupping your face, he’s so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. “I want you with her, let me do that for you? And… I want you here. All the time I… miss you when you’re not.”

“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes!?” You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“It’s working.” You don’t stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, it’s just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No.” Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”

“Satoru…” He’s exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and he’s moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. They’re sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.

He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.

“Not ready yet?” He asks, you shake your head.

“You won’t… I’m not… I don’t like my tummy anymore.” You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.

“Well, baby girl… I love your tummy. Should I show you?” You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. “You had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.”

“Oh, Satoru…” He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair you’ve craved to feel for so long, he’s looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.

“You’re beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.”

You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. He’s been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but he’s tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.

He’s in love with you.

The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.

“Satoru… that feels too good I… mmm!” You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.

“You this easy for me?” He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you can’t, you just gasp out in pleasure when he’s got your pants off, and he’s parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. “Fuck you’re pretty.��

You’re trembling as you’re fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.

Your hands clutch his hair so hard you’re tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.

“It tastes as good as I remember.” He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. “You’re so cute like this, sensitive?”

“You’re torturing me.” He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. “Please…”

“Please what, pretty?” He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Make me cum, please.” He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.

“There you go, you’re clenching me s’good. Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He murmurs, curling his fingers just so,  your legs are shaking so hard, you’re falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.

“M-gonna… Toru…” Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.

“Cum for me, baby.” At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.

You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, you’re arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.

“There you go, so good for me, hmm?” He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.

“Need you. All of you.” You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.

“If we do, I want more than just… co parenting. I want more than just sex. I want…” Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.

“I want more too.” You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.

“I want you to be my girl.” You’re crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when he’s kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. “Will you be? My girl?”

“I would love to be yours.” He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips don’t separate when he backs into his bedroom.

“Want you in my bed, every night.” He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.

“You’re perfect, Satoru.” You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. “It’s only you.”

“It’s only you. You’re perfect.” You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, you’re eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something you’d had inside of you bud hadn’t even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.

“Lemme touch him, please?” You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.

“No way, I’m not busting quick, I’ve waited too long for this.” You giggle, earning his pretty glare. “I’m not.”

“You didn’t bust quick that night?”

“Yeah, I did.” You shake your head at him, gasping when he’s pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. “Shit.”

“Shit…” You both stay completely silent. “Maybe she’ll stop?”

“I sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.”

You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. “Huh!?”

Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. “I need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.”

“You’re insane, Satoru Gojo.” You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and you’re so full you can’t breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.

“You didn’t know that yet? I’ll have to show you, sweetheart.” He’s fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. He’s smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. “You love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?”

“Please…” His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you can’t tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.

“That’s it, can’t help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?”

“Please…”

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” The words short circuit what’s left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. “Ah-ah.”

He leans forward, sucking them then, you’re so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldn’t hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.

“God, even that’s sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.” He huffs, you’re kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. “My girl, you’re all mine now, hmm?”

“Wanna be… y-your girl.” You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. “Toru… I haven’t… not a lot of… exper-ah!”

“That’s alright baby, I’ll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty f’me.” The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but you’re nodding eagerly. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. “That’s right, gonna take all of me.”

Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you can’t even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until you’re close, already having cum twice. You’re sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.

His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, you’re a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.

“Oh look, she’s taking me s’good, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.” He’s talking to your pussy, but you also can’t care, not when you’re so close, incoherently whining. “Can’t talk, sweetheart?”

“Gonna… cum… again… Satoru!” He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.

“There you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.” He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, you’re shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. “Oh fuck…”

“Cum in me. Cum in me, please.” You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.

“Feel s’perfect… gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?” You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until you’re sensitive messes. “F-fucking… b-baby…”

“Satoru, g-god…” He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.

“You’re so messy, hmm?” He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. “Aww, you can’t take it baby?”

“Too much, ngh!” Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.

“Taste us together, god.”

“So yummy.” He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. “My god…”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’re like… you have a breed kink like bad.” He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.

“Could it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And I’d love to really see her pregnant?”

“I want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?”

“You know… yes. Mom offered?”

You giggle at him. “So is this you asking me on a date!?”

“Mmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.” He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. “Ugh.”

“Ugh.” You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. “You make me feel beautiful, Satoru.”

“You are.” He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. “Most beautiful girls there are.”

“I…” You almost say it, but you’re still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.

“Go check on her.”

“Yeah.” You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.

“So, that date?”

“Mmm, got plans already?” You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.

“Yeah, the spa you never went to, brat.”

“Oh! Yes, let’s.”

*****

Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. “My girl, I’ll rub your back.”

“So jealous.” You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t ever wanna lose my girls.” You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as you’re just wearing a little towel. But Satoru’s eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.

“You’re not losing us.” He’s kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.

“Let’s go.”

In the backseat of Satoru’s driver’s car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. He’s filling you again, and you’re soaking him again, he’s fucking up into you one moment, one moment you’re controlling it.

A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until he’s filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that don’t match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but you’re too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.

That night, Reign is up and down, and you’ve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and she’s calming, drifting off just so.

You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. “I love you, dumpling.” He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.

“I love both of you.” You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see you’re trembling. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.”

“I love both of you.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. “I’ll take care of you both, always. I… I’m complete now, with you both. I can’t ever lose you.”

“Satoru, never. I never want to be without you again.” Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. “I’m home, here.”

“You are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.” You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once you’re back inside. “Need you to have my last fuckin’ name.”

“We will, Satoru. We’ll all be Gojos, hmm?” He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.

“So ready f’me?” You nod weakly. “Good, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?”

“Mnh, yes.”

You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didn’t know was missing, and he found a family he didn’t know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.

Taglist: @tiredofeverythingandmyself @yenayaps @bunheadusa @moonlitwitchdaisy @heartsteelkaynconsumer @zoebella30 @twinkling-moonlillie @iamrgo @sylussss7 @minaa-06 @kindablackenedsuperhero @alygator77 @lilica75 @ufoev3 @bub-ss @ailoveyuta @i-luv-ateez-sm @strawberiicreme @gina239 @uhnosav @myahfig4 @silverfangmarks @stxrlingpearl @gojodickbig @jkslaugh97 @ivyvenus333 @msbfc @karmcrim15 @ap-o-llo @loafteaw @kimkimoruo @gh0stgirl333 @victoria1676 @its-carlerrr @evelynxxo @lynnist @burdened-by-images @safixiovi @nanamis-eyebrow @clqxuds @safixiovi Perma tags: @cuntphoric @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo

Rest tagged in comments!

[hyper-fixates]

Visions of a Life

Old Man!Logan x AFAB!reader (no pronouns/gendered language).

Explicit content (18+)

Word count: 5.7k

Tags/warnings: age-gap due to logan’s mutation (reader’s age not specified), established relationship, mutant!reader, not canon-compliant, fluff, domesticity, explicit language, dry humping, brief unprotected sex, angst (and i’m not joking), soft!logan, groping, a few uses of “baby”, mentions & allusions to death (no one dies tho), descriptions of blood (kindly let me know if anything was missed!).

Summary: What does an animal do when he’s sick? He goes away to die.

Notes: this was supposed to take a different route, but it just didn’t feel right as i went along…forgive me for being a bit of a LIAR 🙃

The dry Texas heat faded with each kilometre you travelled. The desert slowly turned into rangelands, and the rangelands eventually became the frozen, snow-covered ground of Alberta. 

The trip was only a couple days, and the stark change in weather almost made your bones nearly seize and shatter when you stepped out of the truck and were met with the sharp winter wind. 

The cold definitely made Logan’s bones ache more than they already do. 

Not even his red flannel and jean jacket can offset the negative temperature in the slightest. 

“Hm…wow. Cute,” you say in succession, taking a few slow steps toward the quaint cabin. 

It’s all dark, smooth wood that stands out amongst the bare, white birch trees and blue spruces that are covered in a light dusting of this morning’s snow.

The second thing you notice is the quiet. 

It’s so quiet. No neighbours, no highways—just silence, and the slight rustling of the wind through the tree branches. 

You’re deep in the bush, a spot near the south-west border that gives a partial view of the Rockies.

“Grab your bag,” Logan says as he shuts his door, the sound cutting violently through the still air. 

It’s almost eerily quiet. No chirping birds, no chittering squirrels, no howling wolves in the distance. Just you and Logan. Isolated. 

It’s everything he’s been yearning for since living in Mexico and spending more than enough time working in El Paso. 

It’s what he’s been missing desperately ever since living down south—Alberta—his real home. Yet it’s a place that holds no significance to you.

“Yes, sir,” you remark with a lazy, mocking salute of your hand, smirking at how Logan glares at you harmlessly as he walks by you to the cabin.

Logan decided it’s time. Time to come back. Time to be realistic about your future, or lack of, together.

He decided that he’s done fighting himself, and that there’s nothing left for either of you in Mexico even if it’s all you’ve come to know. 

He refused to let himself die in the desert and leave you with nothing but sand. There was no comfort there. No semblance of a promise.

The light snow crunches under your steps back to the truck, your breath swirling in small clouds around you. You yank your bag out from the backseat and slam the door as Logan did, hearing the sound echo into the wind before dissipating into nothing. 

If you focused heard enough, you could probably hear your heartbeat. That’s how silent it is.

“Creepy,” you mumble to yourself as you follow the imprints of Logan’s footsteps back to the cabin.

You go up the few rickety stairs, stomping your shoes clean on the equally rickety deck, and open the squeaky door. 

It’s definitely not a space that’s meant for more than two people.

It’s one level, open concept, and surely not heated by a furnace. The living room is directly to the left—you’re basically already standing in it—and a small kitchen is off to the right. The single bedroom straight ahead is the only room besides the bathroom that’s hidden behind walls and a door. 

And that’s it. Simple. Efficient. No walls, no doors, save for the bedroom and bathroom. It’s surprisingly intimate. 

“Please tell me there’s heat,” you lament, watching Logan dust off the few surfaces of fixtures and furniture as you toe off your wet shoes. 

Logan gives you a look. “There’s a fireplace.” He gestures to the barren, ash-filled pit that sits at the bottom of the chimney in the corner of the room. 

Above it, a mantle with a little T.V. “Cable?” You wonder aloud. This place is already more luxurious than what you had in Mexico, but at least in Mexico you didn’t have to worry about freezing to death in your sleep.

Logan limps along to the bedroom with his bag. “Satellite.” 

You suck your tongue against your teeth, following Logan to the bedroom. When you step through the doorway, you almost cackle. 

“Oh for fucks sake. We are never gonna fucking fit on that, Logan. Oh my God,” you moan in disbelief at the size of the bed. “You’re probably not even gonna fit on it.” Your voice pitches a little in exasperation. 

The mattress was maybe a twin. Maybe. It’s propped up on a thin metal frame that creaks and groans as you experimentally lean forward on your hands and bear some weight on it. 

“I do.” He tosses both your bags on the outdated armchair in the corner of the room. 

Your entire lives are in those bags. You only brought what you needed and what could fit. There wasn’t much to bring along from Mexico besides clothes and the necessary toiletries anyway. Anything else can be found and replaced back in town if needed.

He steps back to the bed next to you. “Relax. There’s always the couch,” he points out. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

You have never slept apart—he knows that—and that’s definitely not going to start now. This time is precious. 

You briefly recall the worn couch sitting in the middle of the living room in front of the fireplace: it’s a brown and red plaid pattern, probably from the 80s, and four cushions long. 

This cabin was stuck in time just as much as Logan likes to say he is.

“Help me grab some wood to get a fire going,” he says, giving the top of your head a chaste kiss. “It’s supposed to snow again tonight.” He slips past you out the doorway, the warm, lingering touch of his hand on your shoulder sends a shiver through your body. 

You saw a decent stack of pre-cut logs piled in the other corner of the living room when you came in, and you wonder who’s been taking care of things here while Logan’s been down south. 

The wood looked fresh, but the dust on the coffee table and window ledges suggests no one’s been here for months.

You figure that dust is the least of Logan’s worries right now.

━━━━

The fire crackles and pops softly, the bright light from the T.V. illuminating the dark room as you comfortably watch the Flames game horizontally—on Logan��from the outdated couch. 

The warmth from the flickering orange blaze in the chimney blankets you both, almost trying to melt you together like wax.

Logan lies on his back, legs spread to accommodate your body as you lay stomach-to-stomach, using his chest as a pillow while he uses the well-worn armrest as his. 

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 2-2. You can feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep even though the analog bird clock hung next to the T.V. shows it’s barely 11 p.m. 

You know Logan isn’t asleep because he’s tracing a finger slowly up and down your spine. That’s what’s putting you to sleep, but the obnoxious ads pull you back into consciousness when the game cuts to commercial each time. 

Despite the volume of the T.V., you can still hear the rattling in Logan’s lungs with each breath he takes. 

The ear that’s pressed against his chest picks it up easily; it’s otherwise undetectable if you aren’t right up against him. 

You don’t want to forget that this isn’t, in fact, a fun little vacation that you’ll both return to Mexico from. This is where Logan will spend the rest of his days with you. There is no going back to Mexico, no future anywhere but here within these walls. 

Logan will die here. Like he wants to—at home, with you, surrounded by snow.

“Are you tired?” You say quietly. Your eyes aren’t even open as you ask.

A small chuckle makes your head vibrate. “I’m always tired,” he rasps, his voice rumbling deeply in his chest against your ear.

“Want me to put you to sleep?” You offer, thumbing the material of his flannel, eyes still closed.

He shifts, adjusting his neck. “No. I’m fine,” he explains, and you’re curious to see if he will fall asleep as easy as you can make him.

All it takes is a touch of a finger and a whispered command for him to slip into near unbreakable unconsciousness that lasts throughout the night. 

You hum. “If you need it, just wake me if I’m asleep,” you reassure. 

Almost every night in Mexico you’d knock him out cold, only you didn’t have to use a punch to do so. The press of your finger against his temple was enough. If he was in better health maybe it would take a bit more concentration and demanding, but it’s quick, nearly effortless.

Somnous is all you need to say—sleep. And his body can’t resist the surge of the pseudo-sedative that comes from within you.

━━━━

A chill that you’ve never felt before wakes you. It’s one that can only come with negative temperatures seeping back into the cabin.

Your body tenses and you peel your eyes open. The faint glow of red coals pulsing in front of you quickly tells you that no one made it off the couch last night, that no one slept on that sad excuse of a bed in the next room.

You and Logan are right where you left each other.

Logan breathes steadily under you, that rattling in his lungs still present even in sleep. It never wavers. It will never go away.

You try to carefully peel yourself off of him, stifling a groan as your limbs stretch and twist for the first time in hours. The tightness in your shoulders makes you clench your teeth. 

A few pops and cracks release from your joints, and then you’re free from Logan’s warmth. From the looks of it, he seems comfortable, but you know he’s going to complain about his back and neck as soon as he wakes up.

Thankfully, you’ll help him with that, just like his sleep. Just like you do with everything else. 

Remedium, you’ll mutter as your fingers trace along his temple. Relief.  

You can fix the superficial—a sore neck, a headache—but you can’t fix something that’s as embedded and chronic as what’s killing him.

You’re the cure. The cure for everything except whatever is festering inside him. He says it’s the adamantium, that it’s poisoning him, but you can’t say for sure. 

The early morning sun, all pinks and oranges, shines brightly through the large windows around the cabin. Then you see the snow falling.

You tip-toe to the window across from the couch. It’s been snowing since 3 a.m., but you weren’t awake to see it start.

Thick, fluffy snowflakes wisp around in the light wind and you lean closer to the window to get a better look at the scene outside.

You arrived late in the afternoon yesterday, missing the morning snow that blanketed the ground and decorated the trees.

Logan’s seen many winters come and go, and you’ll see just as many after he’s gone. Well, maybe not as many.

A deep groan fills your ears. “Ah—fuck,” Logan growls, pulling himself to sit up from the couch.

You skip excitedly over to him, bending down to cradle his head in your hands and press your thumbs against each temple, your lips meeting the top of his head in a brief kiss.

“Remedium,” you whisper into his hair, and he makes a satisfied sound in response as his body adjusts and fixes itself.

You move down to kiss his forehead, ruffling a hand through his bushy grey hair before pulling away and going back to the window to watch the snow spiral and churn in random shapes and patterns.  

A grumbled “thanks” is heard over your footsteps. He’s probably not even fully awake yet. 

“Look at the snow. Look,” you say in awe when you hear him shuffling along the creaky floor behind you.

It doesn’t look like anything special to Logan. He’s seen every type of snow, every type of storm Alberta has to throw his way; however, this may be the most mundane snowfall he’s seen that he can remember.

“What about it?” He says. He doesn’t know what’s got you so excitable. 

You look at him over your shoulder. “I’ve never seen a snowfall before,” you explain. “The snowflakes are so fat,” you chuckle as he comes to rest a hand on your lower back, peeking through the window over your shoulder at the snow dancing in the wind.

“Mhm, it’s nice.” He still doesn’t get it. “Go get ready. There’s more wood coming in a bit,” he dismisses with a gentle kiss to your cheek, dense beard poking into the plush skin.

He goes to the bedroom. You should follow, but you keep watching the snow.

In the moment, you don’t realize that while this is your first snowfall, it’s probably Logan’s last.

━━━━

The man who brings the firewood is also the one who’s been “looking after” the cabin for Logan.

They’ve known each other for years, decades, and the man has been doing monthly check-in’s despite Logan not even being in the country.

Logan muttered something about cage fighting, explaining how he knows the man and the bar he owns in town.

You make a face, one filled with curiosity and confusion. “Cage fighting?”

“It was a long time ago,” he defends, tossing the last logs onto the now vast pile in the living room. You now understand why the room is as big as it is.

“Still keeping secrets, huh?” You joke, wiping your hands on your sweater.

A new fire burns strong in the chimney, preparing the cabin for the wind storm that’s meant to hit in a few hours.

“It’s not important.” Logan unbuttons his flannel—today it’s a dark red one; truly Canadian—and strips to his white tank-top underneath. 

It’s almost jarring to see him in anything other than a white dress shirt and blazer.

He throws the flannel on the back of the couch, overheated from the fire and throwing logs. A vicious cough catches in his throat for an exhale or two before it finds its way out.

“You okay?” You ask calmly, walking up to him and rubbing a hand up and down his bicep. His skin clammy and damp from sweat.

“I’m fine.” Another aggressive cough. “I’m fine,” he emphasizes, mostly to reassure himself.

You both know he’s not okay. That’s why you’re here, after all. But you can’t stop yourself from asking.

━━━━

The wind storm knocked out the power.

The raging fire will probably be your only source of light for the rest of the night and into the morning.  

So, without power, there’s not much to do. But, you and Logan sit on the floor with him resting against the front of the couch. You sit between his legs, feeling the heat of him on your back while you watch his arms reach over and around you to set various sized coins on the coffee table to entertain—and educate, as he would say—you.

“That one’s so big,” you point out, reaching for the gold coin. 

Logan wants to make a joke so badly, but he settles for a small smile at what little he can see of your perplexed expression from the side, resting his chin on your shoulder every couple minutes and occasionally pressing little kisses to your neck and jaw just to remind himself you’re actually here.

You pick up the gold coin and turn it over in between your fingers, watching it shine in the firelight. 

The bird on the face of the coin is unfamiliar, and it’s dated “2000” on the back below the Queen’s face. 

“It’s a loon,” Logan clarifies. “One dollar.”

“It’s pretty.” 

“We call it a ‘loonie’,” he explains, “and this is a toonie.” He picks up the other large coin, one that’s silver with a gold center. 

You take it from him. “A polar bear?” You observe the face of the coin. “There’s polar bears in Canada?” You turn your attention to him, nose almost grazing his.

“You…didn’t know that?”

“Why would I know that?” 

Logan chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. “Well. It’s where most of the population lives,” he defends, his hazel eyes almost looking as confused as yours.

“Good to know,” you mutter, placing the coin back on the table.

He shakes his head. “Quarter, nickel, penny, dime.” Logan identifies the rest of the coins for you, pointing to each from biggest to smallest.

“The dimes are cute.” You push the thin, silver coin around on the table.

His tattered wallet sits on the corner by your arm, and something peeks out from the bill slot that you paid no mind to before. 

“You have Canadian bills?” You ask as you pinch the thing between your thumb and forefinger, snatching it before he could answer or stop you.

You unfold the worn thing with ease, holding it with both hands and expecting to see a historic figure or a bold number printed somewhere, but there’s neither.

The paper is a little thicker than a bank note yet it’s almost the same size, but it has Logan with a young girl plastered on it in black and white.

An old photo, folded up and kept in his wallet as a reminder of something, or someone.

“Who’s that?” You question, analyzing the picture with a seizing heart.

Logan doesn’t answer right away, but he doesn’t move to take the picture from your hands. 

It’s him, decades younger, giving the young girl a piggyback. An uncharacteristic smile on his face that you’ve never seen before while the girl peeks her head out beside his for the photo. 

“Marie. She was a kid I, uh, helped, I guess.” The deep timbre of his voice is enough to tell you that he’s suddenly forlorn. “One of Charles’ students.”

“You’re so…young,” you consider quietly, eyes filling with adoration and fondness at the boyish Wolverine in your hand. 

You never knew what Logan looked like in his younger years, and it never occurred to you to be curious about that. You’ve grown so used to your Logan that nothing before all this mattered much to you.

Still, there was someone else who got to experience the younger, more spirited version of Logan that only exists in pictures now, and you long to have been that lucky someone just to be able to have had more time with him. 

But this is your Logan; scarred, aching, dying. This Logan was meant to be yours. 

The Logan that stares at you from the wrinkled picture is barely recognizable against the one behind you, yet he’s still somehow the same. It’s like seeing a ghost after saying you don’t believe in them: you don’t really know how to explain it.

“And your hair is…” You squint at the photo, as if that will help you to find the right word to describe the quaffed points peaking from his head.

“Fucking ridiculous?” He finishes. 

You laugh. “Well, I was maybe gonna say majestic. Or even sublime,” you correct. 

The photo is creased along the edges and down the middle from being continuously opened and refolded, and you wonder how old it is—if it’s older than you.

“Yeah, well, that was a long time ago,” he exhales, stealing the photo from your fingers and folding it back up, making sure to bury it completely back in the wallet this time.

“Where is she now?” You know you shouldn’t ask but the curiosity is clawing at you. What you know of Logan’s past is extremely limited, but there’s a reason for that. You’re hoping he can at least give you this.

Logan’s shoulders grow taut. He debates lying, but he doesn’t. “Dead.”

━━━━

“Logan?”

No answer.

“Logan,” you say more firmly.

No answer.

“James,” you throw at him, watching his head quirk to meet your voice. 

“What?” He barks, quickly averting his attention back to whatever holds his attention in his lap.

You hesitate in the bedroom doorway, afraid of what you might see if you take another step, but you already know what it’s going to be. It was only a matter of time before Logan fell back into himself.

Logan sits on the creaky, old bed with his back to you, a tremble in his shoulders that no one else besides you would notice. He hates that you notice.

You lightly tiptoe around the bed and drop into a squat between his legs, resting a hand on his knee.

Three adamantium claws occupy the space between you, blood slowly dripping from his knuckles and staining the wood floor. His eyes stay on the claws, but you keep your gaze on his face anyway.

His fist shakes, either from the pain of pulling his claws out or the atrophying muscles.

“There’s no reason to keep doing that…that’s not what we came here for,” you gently scold, watching him take a shaky breath while you try to control your own.

You came here to escape the pain, even if you’ll inevitably face something far worse down the road.

He does this when he feels helpless. You don’t know what it achieves, but he seems to believe it does something other than marring his skin even more and making his forearm burn with white-hot pain from metal sliding against his aged tendons and ligaments.

“Put them away. Please,” you encourage, squeezing his knee comfortingly.

Logan closes his eyes. He doesn’t nod or say anything as the claws retract back into his skin, albeit at a snails pace. You worry that one day they’ll just get stuck in or out forever.

You can’t influence his body to physically repair itself or heal faster—you can only provide a barrier to the pain while it subsides on its own.

You stand, hand reaching for his temple to whisper the magic word like always, but Logan’s bloodied fingers wrap around your wrist.

His eyes finally meet yours. “No. Leave it,” he dismisses, sliding his hand up into yours and smearing the warm blood between your joined palms and linked fingers.

It’s futile to argue against him, so you let him have this; the pain he hasn’t been able to shake for years, the pain you can’t entirely stifle and fade, the pain he would never wish upon anyone, the pain he will only escape in death.

━━━━

“I can let you go,” you cry softly. 

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger when he feels your hot tears fall against his bare chest one after the other. 

It’s one of those mornings—where everything just hits you out of nowhere. One of those times where reality has set in. 

Logan doesn’t say anything because he knows there’s nothing he can say to comfort you. He will die. And nothing can change that.

You lie on him, your cheek to the middle of his chest, unable to stop the silent, persistent tears.

The rickety bed, in fact, holds both of you, and a soft cotton blanket does little to save you from the frigid morning air that has snuck into the cabin yet again.

“I can’t do it,” you whimper quietly, shaking your head against him. “I can’t.”

He wraps both arms around you tightly, squeezing around your shoulders so snuggly that your lips form one of those sad, downturned smiles you make when you’re overwhelmed—happy or sad. 

“We don’t really have a choice, baby,” he mutters against your head. 

A gentle finger traces along the textured, angry scars over his bicep. There’s one that’s older, almost entirely white from the trauma to the skin. A small, round one sits directly above it—most likely from a bullet—and you know it’s more recent from how raised and pink it is.

It feels wrong to have Logan comforting you over his death when it’s him who will be the one dying, but he hasn’t shown any panic or sadness over it.

He’s ready to die. For some reason, that hurts you more.

Maybe he will make it long enough to see the first flowers of spring; those that are strong enough to brave the Canadian frost. 

Maybe, somehow, he will get better. Heal himself from the inside out. 

Maybe he won’t end up buried underneath the birch trees.

━━━━

You both barely left the bed today.

You let each other mourn, and Logan didn’t protest. He let you take the time to process what you were feeling. It felt good for him, too.

He reluctantly had to get out of bed to stoke the fire a few times, and now he’s gone to do so again before you call it a night. An early night. You’re worn out. From crying, from feeling, from everything.

The wind has picked up again, howling and whipping harshly against the cabin. It’s supposed to snow in a few hours, but you don’t feel excited for it like you did a few days ago.

“That should burn all night,” Logan says as he comes back in the room.

You shuffle over on the bed for him. You don’t really fit, but you make it work by half-lying on each other. Either your upper body lays on his chest or his upper body has you almost tucked underneath him while he spoons you.

“Thank you,” you murmur with your eyes already closed, ready to forget about today.

The bed frame groans as Logan shuffles in beside you, slipping an arm around your midsection to pull you to tight against him. 

Despite the cold, and the fact that you both should definitely be wearing fleece pyjamas or something, you’re both almost entirely bare. It’s just habit. You usually opt to wear one of his tank tops while he just keeps his briefs. It’s familiar. It’s comforting. The skin-to-skin reminds you both that you’re real.

Tonight, however, you chose his white t-shirt. As if that will do you any better. Logan runs fairly hot on his own, so you ultimately trust him to keep you warm either way.

He nestles into you, curling his body around yours. He slots a leg between your own and situates you so that your ass is pressed against his front. You know it doesn’t mean what you think it does, but you can’t help yourself from jokingly wiggling back and forth against him a few times just for fun—just to lighten the solemn mood.

Logan kisses your shoulder, the hand around your midsection squeezing the flesh of your stomach through the shirt affectionately while pushing you tighter against him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Get some sleep,” he dismisses. He knows you’re just fucking with him.

You giggle quietly, interlacing your fingers with the ones he has against your stomach and turning to look over your shoulder at him. “Love you.”

His face softens. “Love you.” 

You pucker your lips dramatically. He gives you an eager kiss, placing small pecks gently down along your cheek and jaw when you break away to smile. 

Logan will never deny you of his attention when you ask for it. 

━━━━

Something pushes you out of a heavy sleep. You figure it was maybe the wind or a dream, but you feel it again. Something literally pushes you.

You blink a few times, trying to wake yourself up. Logan’s arm is still thrown around you, but it’s now fallen down over your hip. The weight of it keeps you in place.

Another push. 

Logan’s hips shove against your ass. You furrow your brows. 

You know he’s sleeping without needing to look or ask, so what the fuck is he doing—

A more delicate thrust rolls against you this time, then you realize. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” you sigh.

“Logan.” You poke his thigh. No response.

“Logan,” you growl, reaching back and pushing a hand against his firm stomach to shake him a bit.

A series of grunts and groans are his response. He pulls back from you a little, hand tightening against your hip.

“Mm. What?” He mumbles, eyes still closed.

“Stop trying to fuck me in your sleep,” you hiss through a breath, repositioning yourself against him.

“I’m not,” he says, nuzzling up to your back and ass again, half-asleep.

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it. “Yes, you are,” you counter.

It’s probably just some sex dream that got him a little too excited. The thought makes you smile. 

It has, in fact, been longer than usual since you’ve fucked, the last time being in the truck when you pulled over at a rest stop in Montana, and you wonder if he’s starting to feel the effects of that. 

By the time you reached Montana, you were both antsy and restless. The days, and even nights, were naturally spent just sitting in the truck for hours on end with nothing to do—no way to stimulate or tire your bodies.

The final night in the state was the breaking point. You had unburned, pent-up energy and cramping muscles that needed to be worn out if you wanted to survive the last day on the road before you got to the border.

So you pulled over and fucked in the passenger seat. 

Logan let you bounce on his cock until the lactic acid in your thighs made you cry out in pain and you physically couldn’t ride him anymore.

He made you drag it out—for both of your sakes. He wanted your hearts to pump hard and your lungs to sting with each inhale. He wanted your bodies to be fucked into a state of relaxation afterwards.

So, he didn’t help you ride him like he usually does. He didn’t help guide you by your hips up and down his cock. He let you do it all by yourself while he licked and sucked over your collarbones and teased your clit with his fingers.

You both came hard, laughing at the fogged-up windows while cleaning yourselves up with those rough, brown napkins everyone has in their glove compartment for some reason.

Then you continued on, satisfied.

All of this has kind of thrown off your sense of normality. Sex went with that. It’s hard to be horny when you’re sad all the time.

You suppose you don’t need to wonder if he’s feeling the effects of no sex because you’re feeling them for him; his hard cock rests in his briefs against your ass, and you debate doing something you know you’re gonna do anyway.

Just like earlier, you circle your ass over him lightly, hopefully just enough for some payback for waking you up. You assume he’ll tell you to knock it off.

“Baby,” he mutters against the back of your neck tiredly, and you can tell he’s in need of a release.

You smirk. “Hm?” You rub harder over him.

He subtly joins in with your movements, rocking in time with you. His cock feels warm and heavy against your ass.

“Good dream?” You ask, a smile evident in your voice. 

Logan grabs at the meat of your thigh, measuring his thrusts. “It’s…been a while,” he deflects, but you know that just means he’s in need of an orgasm.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you apologize, swallowing a gasp as he ruts harder. 

“Not your fault,” he breathes, too preoccupied with kissing your neck softly. His beard tickles you, grazing against the slope of your neck with each kiss he drags over it.

His broad, warm chest keeps you from drifting off too far. Your cunt pulses and aches from the tease of his cock, undoubtedly soaking your underwear as he rubs along the space that’s just shy of your cunt. This is somehow more erotic than if he was actually fucking himself over your pussy between your thighs.

The bed creaks with his shifting weight, filling the silence in the room as the wind still beats against the cabin.

It’s never mindless, chaotic sex with Logan. Technically, this isn’t even sex. 

He always gave you an appropriate fucking. Not too much, not too little. It was always just exactly what you both needed at the time of doing it. This feels no different.

You can feel your underwear sticking to you—it no longer slides with his desperate movements. You’d be content with finishing whatever way Logan wants. These days, you take what you can get.

“Too tired.” For sex, he means. “Just wanna feel you.” He caresses his hand along your thigh appreciatively. 

You grab his wandering hand. “That’s okay,” you soothe.

His hips have slowed to a gentle rock, intent on taking a bit of the edge off without wanting to fully commit to chasing an orgasm and needing a clean-up. 

Logan isn’t really one to drop everything for sex. Maybe he was like that at some point, but that’s not who he is now. 

He’ll gladly blue-ball himself for some sleep. He knows you’re not going anywhere.

You let him feel you up for a bit, and his movements stop altogether after a few gropes to your chest and thighs—purposefully avoiding anything directly below your bellybutton. 

He rests behind you tightly, pelvis somehow closer than before. You still throb a little, but the warmth from Logan gradually pulls you back to a state of exhaustion.  

━━━━

It’s never been lost on you that you are the only one to have experienced a full, complete relationship with Logan. 

You didn’t die, or get killed. You didn’t leave him or grow old. You are the only one to have this moment. The seemingly immortal Wolverine has someone at the end of his life when he thought he never would. 

He never expected to be the one to go first. It was always the other way around. That’s how it was always supposed to be. 

Yet, there is a spot slowly thawing for him underneath the white birch trees.

here’s the photo reader pulled out of logan’s wallet <3

[aspenmissing]

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ

4362 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɴɪᴄᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

Jayce Talis was fresh-faced and full of ambition when he first arrived in Piltover. Accepted into the academy (19) as a promising young inventor, he was determined to make a name for himself. But ambition wasn’t enough to build the dreams he had in his mind. The academy had resources, yes, but they were cautious, slow-moving—bound by tradition. Jayce’s ideas demanded materials and ingenuity that Piltover wasn’t ready to supply.

That’s how he found himself wandering into the Undercity one fateful evening.

The narrow streets of Zaun were a stark contrast to the polished halls of the academy. Steam hissed from broken pipes, and the air smelled of oil and metal. Jayce clutched a hastily scribbled map in his hand, given to him by a fellow student who claimed there was a workshop deep in Zaun where you could find anything—if you were brave enough to look.

He nearly missed the place entirely, tucked away in a crooked alley. A flickering sign above the door read: “Y/N’s Fixes & Finds.”

Pushing the door open, Jayce was greeted by the faint hum of machinery and the clatter of tools. The workshop was a chaotic haven of gears, wires, and half-finished devices. At the centre of it all stood a young woman, roughly about the same age as him, goggles perched on their head, a smudge of grease streaked across their cheek as they worked on a mechanical contraption.

The sound of the door creaking drew their attention. They turned, narrowing their eyes at the well-dressed stranger. “Lost, academy boy?” they asked, their tone sharp but not unkind.

Jayce hesitated, taken aback by the directness. “Not lost,” he said, stepping further into the room. “Looking for something I can’t find in Piltover.”

Y/N leaned against the workbench, crossing their arms. “You’ve got the wrong place if you’re looking for shiny toys and fancy gadgets.”

“That’s not what I’m after,” Jayce replied earnestly. “I’m working on an idea—something that could change everything. But I need better materials, better tools. Someone told me you could help.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite themselves. “Big words for someone who doesn’t look like they’ve built anything that’s actually worked.”

Jayce smirked, feeling a flicker of determination. “I can prove it.”

They tossed him a battered device from the workbench—a mangled mess of gears and wires. “Fix that. If you’re half as smart as you think you are, it shouldn’t take you long.”

Jayce took the challenge without hesitation, sitting down at the workbench. The device was poorly assembled but fixable. With a few careful adjustments, he realigned the gears and connected the wires properly. Within minutes, the device clicked and whirred to life, emitting a faint pulse of light.

Y/N was impressed but tried not to show it. “Not bad, academy boy. Maybe you’re worth my time after all. Names Y/N” She holds her hand out to him.

"Jayce." He responded, shaking her hand.

They spent the next few hours talking, trading ideas and challenges. Y/N’s resourcefulness fascinated Jayce—they solved problems with a practicality born from necessity, creating brilliance out of scraps. In turn, Y/N couldn’t help but admire Jayce’s vision and his almost reckless drive to push boundaries.

When it was finally time for Jayce to leave, Y/N handed him a small pouch filled with rare components. “Call it a loan,” they said with a sly smile. “Don’t screw it up.”

Jayce smiled back, his grip tightening on the pouch. “I won’t,” he promised.

As he walked back to Piltover, the weight of the pouch felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just components—it was trust. And for the first time, Jayce felt like his dreams weren’t so far away. He didn’t know it yet, but this meeting was the start of something that would change not just his life, but the world.

VIKTOR

The halls of the academy were always bustling, students rushing between lectures, papers scattered across desks, and the constant hum of ambition hanging in the air. Y/N was no exception, constantly moving, juggling tasks, and brimming with ideas. It was her first semester, and she was already feeling the pressure of living up to the academy’s towering expectations.

Lost in her thoughts about an upcoming presentation, her arms full of papers and books, Y/N’s focus slipped for just a moment too long. Her foot caught on the corner of a rug, and the next thing she knew, her carefully organized notes and diagrams were flying out of her grasp, scattering like autumn leaves across the polished floor.

Before she could fully register what had happened, a soft but firm voice broke through her embarrassment. “Careful now. The floor may not be as forgiving as it looks.”

Startled, Y/N glanced up to see a young man crouched beside her, already gathering her scattered papers. His lean frame was accentuated by the slightly oversized academy uniform, his posture careful as he balanced against a sturdy cane. His unruly brown hair seemed perpetually at odds with the studious air he carried. Most striking, though, were his golden-brown eyes—intense and thoughtful, but not unkind.

“I—uh, thank you,” Y/N stammered, still flustered as she scrambled to pick up the rest of her notes.

“It happens,” the young man replied in a calm, measured tone, his Czech accent thick. He leaned slightly on his cane as he handed her a stack of neatly organized papers. “You’re not the first to underestimate how much these corridors demand your attention.”

She managed a sheepish smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, I suppose balance isn’t my strong suit.”

“Balance,” he mused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His cane tapped lightly against the floor as he shifted his weight. “An elusive concept, especially here. The academy is good at keeping everyone on edge.”

Y/N accepted the papers, her initial embarrassment giving way to curiosity. “Thanks again. I guess I owe you one.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “No debt incurred,” he said with a faint chuckle. “Just… perhaps slow down a little next time. Rushing rarely yields the best results.”

As the weight of her papers settled back in her arms, Y/N hesitated. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Viktor,” he said simply, his cane tapping softly as he adjusted his stance. He offered a slight nod, polite but reserved. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” she replied, finally feeling steady on her feet. “First semester, and clearly still figuring out how to survive the academy.”

“You’re not alone in that,” Viktor said, his tone thoughtful as he studied her. “Even those of us who’ve been here longer still stumble now and then—metaphorically, of course.” A faint flicker of amusement danced in his eyes.

Y/N smiled, her initial awkwardness fading into warmth. “Well, Viktor, thanks for the save. I’ll try not to make this a habit.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “See that you don’t. But… if you do find yourself in need of assistance, you know where to find me.” With a slight dip of his head, Viktor turned and walked down the corridor, his cane tapping a quiet rhythm on the polished floor.

As Y/N watched him disappear into the crowd of students, she couldn’t help but feel that this brief encounter was the start of something far more meaningful than a simple rescue.

JAYVIK

The flickering fluorescent lights of the lab cast long shadows over the scattered blueprints, glowing crystals, and intricate machinery. It was late—most of the academy's halls were silent, the usual bustle of students and researchers replaced by an eerie stillness. Perfect timing for someone who didn’t belong.

Y/N moved carefully, her footsteps light as she navigated the sprawling lab. Her Zaunite instincts guided her, sharp and survival-driven. The tools and devices on the workbenches were unlike anything she had seen back home—polished, cutting-edge, and dripping with the wealth of Piltover’s privileged elite.

It wasn’t personal. She didn’t particularly want to steal from anyone. But things in Zaun had been dire lately, and every stolen blueprint or shard of hextech crystal could mean another week of food, another day of keeping her family afloat.

Her gloved hand reached for a shimmering blue crystal embedded in an ornate device when a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Y/N froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned slowly, her mind racing for an excuse. Behind her stood a tall man with broad shoulders, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing brown eyes bore into hers, his expression a mix of suspicion and annoyance.

“I—uh…” Y/N began, but another voice interrupted her.

“She doesn’t look like one of the academy staff,” Viktor said, stepping out from behind a stack of blueprints. He leaned on his cane, his golden-brown eyes sharp and calculating as they swept over her. “Too quiet. Too... resourceful.”

Y/N’s gaze darted between the two men. She was cornered. Jayce’s strong, commanding presence on one side, and Viktor’s sharp intellect on the other. Her hands instinctively tightened around the crystal, but she knew she wouldn’t get far if she tried to run.

“I can explain,” Y/N said quickly, raising her hands in mock surrender, the crystal still clutched in one fist. “I wasn’t going to take much, I swear. Just... borrowing.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. “Borrowing? From our lab?” His tone was incredulous. “You know, breaking in and stealing aren’t exactly the best ways to ask for a favor.”

Viktor tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “You’re from Zaun, aren’t you?” he asked, his accent softening as he studied her.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

“Your tools,” Viktor interrupted, nodding toward the small pouch at her hip. “Zaunite make. Efficient but improvised. And your shoes—worn from the chemical streets.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re observant,” she muttered, uneasy under his scrutiny.

Jayce glanced at Viktor, his frustration softening slightly. “So, what now?” he asked, clearly deferring to his partner.

Viktor considered Y/N for a long moment before speaking. “Running won’t help you. Security will catch you before you leave the building. And if they don’t, Piltover’s lawkeepers will. But…” His gaze flicked to the device she had tried to steal. “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Y/N frowned, her suspicion evident. “An arrangement?”

“You’re resourceful,” Viktor said simply, his tone calm and measured. “And I assume you wouldn’t be risking your neck unless you truly needed to. If you’re willing to explain your situation, perhaps we can find a way to help each other.”

Jayce crossed his arms but nodded, his earlier irritation giving way to a grudging respect. “We’re not heartless. If there’s something you need, just tell us. Stealing isn’t the only way.”

Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting between the two of them. There was no malice in their words, only curiosity and... understanding? She wasn’t sure what she expected when she’d broken into this lab, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“Fine,” she said at last, lowering her hands and relinquishing the crystal. “I’ll talk. But don’t think for a second that I trust either of you.”

Jayce chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Trust takes time.”

Viktor gave a faint smile, his grip on his cane tightening as he gestured toward a nearby stool. “Then let’s start now. Sit. We’re listening.”

As Y/N sat down, her nerves still buzzing, she realized that she might have just stumbled into something far more complicated—and far more intriguing—than she’d anticipated.

VANDER

The Last Drop wasn’t much to look at back then. It wasn’t the thriving hub it would later become, but a small, rough-hewn bar tucked into the heart of Zaun’s chaos. The air inside carried a mix of sweat, cheap ale, and the faint metallic tang of machinery. It was a refuge for the weary and the desperate—a place where even the broken found a moment of peace.

Vander was behind the bar, as usual, wiping down the stained counter with a rag that had seen better days. He wasn’t much older than twenty, broad-shouldered and already carrying the weight of the Undercity on his back. Silco sat at a bar, drinking from a glass as he writes in a journal.

The door creaked open, and Vander glanced up out of habit. He expected another familiar face, maybe a regular, or some poor soul looking for a drink to drown their troubles. What he didn’t expect was her.

Felicia strode in first, her usual swagger in place, but behind her was someone new—a woman he’d never seen before. Y/N stepped into the dim light of the bar, and for a moment, Vander forgot how to breathe.

She didn’t belong here—not in the way most people did. Zaun had a way of dulling beauty, grinding it down with grime and despair, but she seemed untouched by it. Her eyes carried a spark of resilience, her posture a quiet defiance against the city that tried to break everyone. To Vander, she was a flower blooming in the middle of a wasteland.

“Oi, Vander!” Felicia’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “Quit staring and come over here.”

Silco smirked from his seat, clearly catching Vander’s momentary lapse. Vander muttered something under his breath and stepped around the bar, doing his best to play it cool as Felicia waved him over.

“This is Y/N,” Felicia said, gesturing toward her companion. “She’s new to this part of Zaun, figured I’d show her around. Thought it’d be good for her to meet the famous Vander.”

“Famous, huh?” Vander said, his voice gruff as he extended a hand.

Y/N smiled, and the warmth in it caught him off guard. She took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. “I’ve heard a bit about you,” she said. “Felicia talks like you’re some kind of legend.”

Vander chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Don’t believe everything she says. I’m just a guy with a bar.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Felicia chimed in, slapping Vander on the shoulder. “He’s got a heart as big as this place—and fists to match.”

Vander shot Felicia a warning look, but she only grinned. Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and melodic, and Vander felt something stir in his chest.

“Well,” Y/N said, her gaze meeting his, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Vander. This place has a charm to it.”

“Charm, huh?” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not a word I hear much around here.”

She shrugged. “It’s all in how you look at it.”

Vander nodded, his respect for her growing. It wasn’t often someone saw Zaun with anything other than disdain or despair. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered, his voice softening.

“Sure,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But only if you join me for one.”

For the first time in a long while, Vander felt a flicker of something he’d thought Zaun had taken from him—hope. He poured two drinks and joined her at the bar, Felicia smirking knowingly as she goes to Silco’s side, the two watching with a smirk

As the night went on, Vander found himself captivated by Y/N’s stories, her laughter, and the way she seemed to light up the dim room. In a city that thrived on shadows, she was a rare glimpse of light, and Vander couldn’t help but wonder if meeting her was the beginning of something he’d been waiting for his whole life.

SILCO

The night Vander betrayed him was etched into Silco’s mind like a blade carving into flesh. The cold waters of the canal still burned in his lungs, and the searing pain from his infected eye was a constant reminder of the man who had once called him brother.

He’d managed to escape, his hands slick with blood, the knife he used to fend off Vander still trembling in his grasp. Every step felt heavier than the last as he stumbled through the labyrinthine streets of Zaun, his vision blurring from pain and exhaustion.

When he finally collapsed in a dark, narrow alleyway, Silco wasn’t sure if he’d ever rise again. The city around him was a blur of muffled sounds and shifting shadows before everything went black.

==

Silco awoke with a start, his instincts kicking in before his body could fully respond. He bolted upright, only to be met with a sharp, stabbing pain radiating from his face and ribs. His hand instinctively reached for his eye, but a firm, unfamiliar voice cut through the haze.

“Don’t touch that.”

His head snapped toward the source, his remaining eye narrowing. A woman stood in the doorway, holding a small basin of water and a cloth. She looked calm, her expression unreadable, but there was an undeniable edge to her tone—a warning.

“Who are you?” Silco demanded, his voice rough, his body tense despite the obvious strain it was under.

“Someone who just saved your life,” Y/N replied, stepping closer and setting the basin down on a small, rickety table. “You were half-dead when I found you. If you move too much, you’ll tear the stitches I just put in.”

Silco’s gaze flickered to his arm, now wrapped tightly in makeshift bandages. His mind raced, trying to piece together how he’d ended up here. “Why?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his hostility. “Why what? Why did I help you?” She shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t like seeing people bleed out in the streets, even in a place like this.”

“Charity is rare in Zaun,” Silco said, his suspicion evident.

She let out a dry laugh. “You don’t say.” Her tone softened slightly as she sat on a stool beside him, wringing out the cloth. “I’m no saint, but I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, sit still. Your eye’s infected, and if you want to keep what’s left of it, you’ll let me help.”

Silco hesitated, every muscle in his body screaming at him to leave, to get away from this stranger. But the throbbing in his eye and the sharp pain in his side were undeniable. Reluctantly, he leaned back against the wall, his remaining eye watching her every move.

Y/N worked in silence for a while, dabbing gently at his swollen, reddened eye. Her hands were steady, her touch careful despite the obvious discomfort it caused him.

“You’re lucky I found you when I did,” she said after a moment. “Another hour out there, and you’d have been done for.”

“Lucky,” Silco repeated bitterly, his jaw tightening. “That’s one way to put it.”

She paused, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But whatever it was, it left you in a bad way. You should rest.”

“I can’t stay here,” Silco said firmly, starting to rise again despite the pain.

Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down. “And go where? Back into the streets? You’ll be dead by morning.”

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time, Silco found himself unable to argue. He hated the vulnerability, hated relying on someone else, but something about Y/N’s unwavering composure kept him from pushing her away.

“You’re stubborn,” he muttered, leaning back reluctantly.

She smirked, sitting back on her stool. “Takes one to know one.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Silco allowed himself to close his eye and let the tension in his body ease, if only slightly. The woman tending to him was a mystery, but as the night wore on, he couldn’t deny that her care was keeping him alive.

And in the shadows of Zaun, where trust was scarce and betrayal ran deep, that simple act of kindness was enough to plant the seed of something unexpected—something Silco would carry with him long after he left her care.

JINX/POWDER

Y/N once lived in Piltover with her mother, enjoying a modest but stable life. However, when her mother passed away unexpectedly, the weight of mounting bills and the high cost of living in the gilded city became too much for her to bear. With no other options, she made the difficult decision to move to Zaun, a place she had only heard about in whispers. The contrast was stark—Piltover's polished streets were replaced by Zaun's gritty alleys and thick, smoky air. Struggling to find her footing, she spent months navigating her new reality, unsure of where she belonged.

Fate intervened when Y/N stumbled across Silco in an alleyway, unconscious and wounded. Taking a risk, she helped him, unaware that this single act of compassion would alter the course of her life. (Silco's Part) After recovering, Silco saw something unique in Y/N—her resilience and resourcefulness—and offered her work. What began as a professional arrangement quickly deepened into a bond built on trust and mutual respect, a connection that only grew stronger over the years. Their dynamic shifted again one evening when Silco arrived at their base of operations with a new addition to their unnatural family.

Powder.

She was small, thin, with wild blue hair, and bruises marring her skin. But it wasn’t just the physical damage that caught your attention—it was the hurt in her eyes. The guilt. The grief. And something darker beneath the surface. You could see it clearly, even through the panic and shock she was clearly experiencing.

“She’s... she’s alive,” Silco muttered, almost to himself, as he carefully laid Powder down on a makeshift cot. His eyes were bloodshot, his face streaked with soot and grime from the aftermath. “She needs care.”

You nodded silently, stepping forward with a calm that belied the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You were no stranger to pain, and you knew what needed to be done. You had seen plenty of broken souls, but something about this girl... something about her was different. She wasn’t just another casualty of Zaun’s brutality—she was a spark, a raw potential waiting to be shaped.

You crouched beside her, noting how tightly she was curled in on herself. She was trembling, hands clenched into fists at her sides as though bracing for something. Her wide eyes, still filled with fear, flickered to Silco’s figure, and you could see the tension in her shoulders, the uncertainty in her gaze.

“Powder,” you said gently, your voice soft but steady. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

She didn’t respond, but you saw her stiffen slightly at your words. Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and for a moment, the silence hung in the air between you both. You continued your work, not rushing, not pushing her to speak, only ensuring she was comfortable and that her injuries weren’t as severe as they seemed.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” You muttered, more to yourself than to her. “Zaun doesn’t make it easy for anyone.”

Silco stepped back, leaning against the wall. “She... doesn't talk. Hasn't since the explosion. Going to need a lot of patience with this one.”

“I can handle patience,” you said quietly, glancing at Silco with an understanding nod. There was something else there, though, that you could see behind his eyes—a recognition. Maybe even a kind of resignation. He had likely seen far too many broken people in his time, but for the first time, you saw a flicker of doubt in him. Whether it was for himself, for her, or both, you couldn’t be sure.

But the moment you looked back down at Powder, you knew she needed something more than just care. She needed someone who could see past the explosion, the destruction, and the chaos she had been a part of. She needed someone who could help her rebuild what had been torn apart—not just her body, but her heart.

“Hey,” you spoke again, this time more firmly. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I know it feels heavy right now, but you can’t carry it forever. It’s not all on you.”

The words didn’t seem to break through at first. Powder stayed silent, still as stone. But you could see the smallest tremor in her hands, the slight quiver in her lip.

The guilt was suffocating her.

"I'm a monster… A Jinx," Powder's voice was soft, barely a whisper, and laced with hesitation. "It's my fault."

You moved a little closer, sitting down beside her. You didn’t touch her, but you stayed there, just close enough for her to feel your presence, warm and steady. You understood what it was like to feel like the world was on your shoulders, to feel like you couldn’t make amends, but you knew one thing: she had to be given the chance to heal. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but it would happen.

“You're not a monster,” you said softly, placing a gentle hand on the girl's knee. "And it's not your fault. You're just a very brave girl."

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the distant hum of Zaun’s underbelly and the faint sounds of Powder’s breath. Silco didn’t respond, but you saw the sharpness in his gaze soften, just a fraction. His stance relaxed, and his lips pressed into a thin line, contemplating your words.

Finally, Powder’s voice, quiet and small, cut through the stillness. “I... I didn’t mean to...”

“I know,” you said gently, offering her a small, comforting smile. “But it’s not about what happened. It’s about what you do next.”

The weight of her past might have been too heavy to erase, but there was still time for her to change. There was still time for healing. And in that moment, you knew: whatever happened next, you would be there to guide her through it.

A new chapter had begun for both you and Powder, one where she wouldn’t have to walk alone in the shadows of Zaun any longer.

[eggyrocks]

DRUNK WALK HOME

chapter seven: introductions

masterlist

"and i don't want your pity, i just want somebody near me / guess i'm a coward, i just want to feel alright," nobody by mitski

It’s Tuesday, and Akaashi’s studying, sitting at the university coffee shop with his notes splayed across a table, an empty seat across from him. 

He can’t focus. He couldn’t focus at his apartment, he couldn’t focus at the library, and he can’t focus here. Noises keep making his head turn, and he keeps thinking that he sees her out of the corner of his eye, and each time it tenses him up, makes his adrenaline spike. 

He keeps rereading the same sentence over and over, and going to drink from a coffee that’s been empty for about twenty minutes now. He’s not retaining any information, each word he reads turning into dust on his head. 

It’s making his head split. And as much as Akaashi does not want to admit it, the thought creeps into the back of his mind that she’s right: he is obsessed. It makes his grip on his pen a bit tighter. He tries, but he can’t stop thinking about her. Everything he does, she’s in the back of his mind. He wonders what she’d say to him if she could see him, what she’d do. He wonders what she’s thinking about, and if she’s thinking about him. 

He wonders if she would’ve been his friend, if he had given her the chance. 

This is what he’s thinking about instead of his studies, and it’s driving him insane. He grinds his teeth together, and tries to force himself to understand the content in front of him. 

A heavy leather purse drops down on top of the table, and he jumps. Akaashi looks up, and sees an older woman there, taking a seat in the empty chair across from him. She stares directly at Akaashi as she does so. She looks familiar. This scowl she has on her face feels like one Akaashi knows. 

“I’m sitting here,” she says, matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her seat. “There’s no other place to sit, and I’m waiting for my kid to show up. She’s late, go fucking figure.” 

Akaashi tries not to let it show how immediately uncomfortable he feels. “Um, okay. That’s fine with me,” he says stiffly, nodding his head. 

She has wrinkles around her eyes and heavy frown lines around her mouth. “What’s your name?” she demands. 

“Akaashi Keiji, ma’am,” he answers, because he feels like he has to. Like he’ll get in some kind of trouble if he doesn’t.

“You look like a smart kid,” she comments, eyes briefly tracing over his collection of books and notes. “You get good grades?” 

“My grades are decent, yes.” 

She snorts. “That’s a humble way of saying yes. You look smart, studying here. Wish my kid was smart like you. But she’s a fucking dumbass.” 

His discomfort makes him squirm. Akaashi doesn’t know what to say, so he settles on, “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“You got a girlfriend, Akaashi?” she asks bluntly. 

“Um, no,” he says, and for some reason his face gets hot. “No I don’t.” 

“Do you want one? My daughter’s dumb as rocks but she’s at least pretty. Gets it from me,” she says, and grins proudly. 

Akaashi looks over his shoulder, like he’s looking for someone to save him from this conversation. The last thing he wants is to date this random woman’s random daughter, especially if they’re anything alike. “Oh, well, I’m just trying to focus on my studies now.” 

“Well if you change your mind, let me know. Maybe you’d be a good influence on her,” she says, and then perks up in her chair, looking over Akaashi’s head. “Look, here she comes now.” 

Akaashi turns, and he sees her. For a moment, he tries to pretend that he doesn’t see her, and instead looks for the woman’s daughter, before it dawns on him.

It makes sense, once Akaashi realizes. They look alike. The way the frown is the same. The way they spit out words is the same. Akaashi feels something that is akin to satisfaction. 

She must see her mother sitting there, speaking with Akaashi, and feel dread, because this awful expression works its way across her face once she sees the two of them together. Her mouth screws up, her fists ball by her side, and she takes quick, urgent steps towards the table in the middle of the cafe. “Mom?” she questions, voice half horrified and half enraged. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’m talking to this nice boy, Akaashi,” her mother responds, leaning back in her chair as if she has no intention of leaving, and is in fact just getting comfortable. Smugness blossoms in Akaashi’s chest, and he can’t help but smirk. 

She is deliberately not looking back at Akaashi. She has her head turned to face just her mother, shoulders tensed. “Yeah, I can see that. Why are you talking to him?” 

“Because I want to,” her mother replies, and then turns back to face Akaashi. “Akaashi, you know this scrub?” 

“No, I don’t know him, Mom,” she rushes to lie. 

“Actually, we do know each other,” Akaashi corrects her, voice level and cool. “I’m her writing tutor. All students on academic probation have to see a tutor twice a week.” 

It’s then that she finally turns to face Akaashi, and it’s not what he was expecting. He was expecting more of her rage, twisted up anger and some kind of rude remark. But instead, she looks horrified, eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. It makes him shift. He’s never seen her look like that. 

“Akaashi,” she whispers, and he thinks it might be the first time she’s said his name since their reintroduction. It makes his spine straighten out. 

“Academic probation, huh? What a deadbeat kid you are,” her mother spits out, voice low and harsh. She stands, grabbing her heavy bag and swinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s go,” she commands of her kid. 

And, in a move that Akaashi doesn’t expect, she obeys without another word. Her head hangs and her shoulders slump, and she follows her mother out the cafe. Neither one of them say another word to Akaashi. 

Akaashi sits there for a moment, left with the impression that he’s done something wrong, just then.

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[deeplyshalllow]

Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked

I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.

I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.

Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.

(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)

We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:

Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!

Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!

Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.

Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.

Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!

Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...

Elphaba: Lie?

Glinda: Be encouraging!

And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:

Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.

Wizard: But how?

Glinda: Her sister

Morrible: What? What did she say?

Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.

Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).

Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.

So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.

This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.

And one last thing:

Elphaba: I only wish...

Fiyero: What?

Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.

Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.

I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.

But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.

[bonelessghoul]

me and the devil

Pairing: frontman x f!reader Summary: when you decided to join the games, you had been so removed from the life you once knew, but when an old face turns out to be another player, it changes everything for you. Note: after getting out that little tidbit I posted prior, I finally have the guts to get this out there. Thought this would be a cute way to tie in how they may have known each other before the games :) hope you all enjoy!! wc: 4.1k

~~~

Some time ago

The sound of an ambulance and police car entering the hospital driveway could be heard beyond the sliding doors, causing your heard to perk up behind the computer you sat at. It had been a long day already so you couldn’t even hide the disappointment in your sagged shoulders when a patient had come in with two paramedics.

“Evening!” said the paramedic at the front of the stretcher.

Your tired eyes were already on the elderly man in the stretcher. His frail frame, oxygen mask, and the nasty cough rattling underneath it painted a picture all too familiar.

“Feels like this is the dozenth time I’ve seen you guys today.” you said jokingly, but also with some truth underneath of it.

As you took the report and triaged the patient, it gave you a small sense of relief knowing he could be admitted quickly due to condition. Amid the overwhelming crowds and lingering illness, you found solace in these fleeting victories—a squeeze of a hand, a reassurance that someone would be cared for. But deep down, you knew the cycle would start anew when you clocked in tomorrow.

The paramedics took him to the room and you leaned against the counter, writing down the patients vitals so you could put them into the computer once you sat down but then, the door opened again.

“Please, not another one.” you mumbled, tiredly turning to the sliding doors that let in a gust of cold air from the outside.

But for the first time that day, a smile found your lips when a familiar police officer entered the premises.

“I promise I’m not dragging in another patient,” said Officer In Ho, his wide grin softening the fatigue etched on your face.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping the streets safe, In Ho?” you teased, shuffling toward him in your light-blue scrubs. Gratefully, you took the coffee like a kid handed a toy.

The shine of his badge didn’t escape your notice, nor did how well he looked in his black uniform. Newly promoted, his pride was evident in the way he carried himself—a gleam in his eyes, a certain confidence in his stride.

“Ah, I already did that a couple of times today,” he replied with a playful scoff. “Now my job is to make sure the hospital is safe—and ensure there are no tired nurses lingering about.”

As you sipped the coffee, sweetened with an absurd amount of cream and sugar just the way you liked it, you glanced around the ambulance bay. Feigning innocence, you shrugged.

“I’d say you’d have to arrest me then, but since I’m the only one working right now, you’d have to answer to my boss.”

In Ho laughed but tilted his head with concern. “Again? I feel like you’re here every day.”

Rolling your eyes, you retreated behind the desk to finish charting before he could distract you any further.

“Well, you wouldn’t know if you didn’t stop by every day. Don’t they track your patrol car?” you asked, shifting the conversation.

He followed, leaning his arms on the counter above your computer. His grin remained, impossible to ignore.

“Yes, but after that incident a couple of weeks ago when your patient started a fight in the parking lot, I generously offered to swing by.”

Yawning, you leaned back in your chair, coffee in hand. “I’m going to start a fight in the parking lot soon. But there’s only an hour left. I’ll survive.”

In Ho raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll clear out of your warpath.”

Laughing, you waved a fist at him. “You brought me coffee. You’re spared for now, Officer In Ho.”

A laugh bubbled in your throat, causing you to sit up and wave your fist at him.

“You brought me coffee, you are spared from my warpath for now, Officer In Ho.”

Most shifts went like this—fifteen or twenty blissful minutes of his company while his partner kept an ear on the radio. For a brief moment, you forgot you were at work. It wasn’t always this easy, though. You were good at your job, often placed in challenging situations. It was, after all, how you had met him.

Your reminiscing was interrupted by the urgent wail of another ambulance siren. Downing the rest of your coffee, you moved around In Ho as if he weren’t there, throwing on latex gloves and a fresh mask. The paramedic’s voice rang out as the ambulance doors opened.

“CPR in progress!”

You sprang into action, guiding the stretcher to the nearest room. In Ho stood outside, watching as the hive of medical staff buzzed around you. His eyes lingered on you, a memory surfacing—the day you first met.

Back then, he was a rookie cop, shadowing his unit. They brought in a gunshot victim, In Ho’s hands pressing desperately on the wound. As the stretcher came through, your eyes met across the chaos. You had taken over, applying pressure while barking orders to the team.

Now, as you jumped off the chest compressions to don a gown, you glanced over your shoulder. In Ho’s gaze was locked on you. With a quick, discreet salute, you turned back to work, your smile hidden behind the mask.

You two had met when In Ho was a brand new cop and you, a brand new nurse, when his unit he was shadowing with brought in a gun shot victim. In Ho had his hand over the bleeding wound and as the patient was brought onto the stretcher, you two met each other eye to eye as you stood on the other side of the bed and started to hold pressure for him.

~

To no surprise, your shift ended later than expected. Fatigue weighed heavy on your limbs as you stepped out under the night sky. Dragging yourself toward the bus stop, a familiar voice called out.

“Y/N!”

You blinked, surprised to see In Ho standing by the sidewalk, dressed in casual clothes. His shift had clearly ended hours ago.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” you asked, brows furrowing.

In Ho smiled, a touch of nervousness in his posture as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “I wasn’t sure if you got to finish your coffee earlier, so I thought I’d see if you’d like another drink.”

Despite your exhaustion, his offer made you smile. The thought of his presence had quickly become a comfort you didn’t want to imagine life without.

“Of course,” you said, watching his shoulders relax with relief.

Without a second thought, you took his hand, letting him lead you to a nearby bar. Together, you laughed and shared stories, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten.

But that’s all it ever was—and all it ever would be.

The coffee dates grew scarce, the nights picking you up from the hospital turned into you taking the bus, and both of you played a role in such sadness that filled its place. Your jobs were taxing but that was almost just an excuse to place on top of why he visited less and why you had taken up other assignments in the ER.

One night, you and a few of your coworkers, one of whom was a resident who was infatuated with you, went over to a local bar for soju and whatever apps you could order. It was a particularly difficult shift that warranted a drink, but when you walked in you were surprised to see In Ho with another woman.

The years of unspoken friendship, and maybe something more, shattered like glass within you. Little did you know, In Ho had felt the same when he watched the resident take your coat off for you.

In that moment though where you two made eye contact even across a crowded bar, you couldn’t help but smile a delicate and polite one. The color that had drained from his face faintly returned as he smiled back, nodding your way.

But it was the end of something you had both never had the guts to speak of out loud and that was torture in and of itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present Day

“The first light is Red Light, Green Light.”

In a swarm of green tracksuits, you stood among the four hundred or so players that surrounded you, tucking your white shirt underneath as the heat started to beat down your neck and tied the jacket around your waist.

“It’s just a child’s game,” you told yourself, trying to push aside the unease curling in your stomach.

The unnerving atmosphere constructed around you was all tied in at the larger than life doll at the other end of the room, facing you with the eyes of something much more than it let on.

In front of you, a mother and her son bickered softly. Their interaction brought a fleeting smile to your face, but the weight of how they ended up here pressed heavy on your mind. Before you could dwell, a frantic voice broke through the murmurs.

“This is not just a game! If you lose, you die!”

The crowd rippled with uneasy laughter, shocked at the sudden turn of events. A man near the front waved his arms, shouting to be heard and you stood on your toes to get a better look.

“If they catch you moving, they’ll kill you! They shoot you from somewhere above!”

“We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?” a woman asked mockingly.

You chuckled softly with her, but the player up ahead was unrelenting and you couldn’t fend off the way your nerves started to react to it.

“If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They shoot you from somewhere up above!”

While the crowd had laughed off his attempts, brushing it off and eager for the game to start, you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and tried to ignore him. But the pressure to keep your movements as strict as possible nipped at your mind.

“No matter what happens, don’t panic!”

But your heart started to race just a little faster when the time clock blinked on and your five minutes began. Just don’t get caught moving and you will be fine, you told yourself.

“Green light!” the childlike voice called.

Your legs moved before your mind did, ushering yourself forward and when the massive doll had said “Red Light!”, Player 456 had commanded the group to freeze.

You’d be hard pressed not to listen as the tension started creeping up your legs.

His commands were like clockwork and despite the path you wanted to forge for yourself, you found yourself following along. The stopping and going according to the doll who’s painted eyes stared through you was already nerve wracking as is and suddenly, you didn’t mind the directions by player 456.

“Freeze!”

“Cut it out, man. You’re freaking me out.” said player 390 who stood just a few feet ahead of you now.

The rounds were intermittently paced and you were becoming jumpy with every switch between red light and greed light. No one had been caught moving yet and your eyes moved as much as they could without your face moving a muscle to scan who surrounded you now.

But then, at the sound of a shrill scream of a woman up ahead, your eyes widened at the sight of a younger girl flailing her arms around to swat something away.

You held your breath as you waited to see what would happen to her, gasping when the gunshot rang through the arena and went right through her head.

Your soul had jumped out from your skin and you worried that such a slight jolt would put you in the same fate as the girl.

But even when you thought it would keep everyone still the way it did to you, one woman screamed only to be shot as well, and that’s when everyone started to run for their lives.

It took every fiber of your being to not move with every gunshot that rang out, rapidly firing so close to you that you could hear its trajectory in the air. It made your ears ring and you couldn’t quite here player 456 anymore but the echoes of his yelling were clear.

But your legs had begun to shake, and you hesitated before moving forward again.

When Player 456 ran to the front of the group though, his shoulder just passing yours, you didn’t dare waste another second and your legs sprung back into action. The player had been right all along and you wouldn’t dare question it now.

“Everyone get into a line! Get behind someone bigger than you. We have to move before time runs out!”

There was no time to be strategic about this, merging together with the nearest line and finding yourself behind a girl about your height. It didn’t seem like a bad decision until you watched her nearly double over in pain. She was clutching her stomach, and her other hand had desperately clung to the mother you saw earlier. Your blood ran cold, hesitant to keep your hold on this girl for fear she would ruin it all, but as the next green light had been called, you noticed why exactly she carried her belly.

“I got you!” you said to her with a firm reassurance, steadying your hands on her hips as you all skidded to a halt again.

A cry came from her and your heart sunk as the mother in front of her tried to calm her too.

Your eyes were burning onto the larger than life doll up ahead as the clock winded down, hoping you three hadn’t given yourselves away.

“Green light.”

“Let’s go!” player 456, waving everyone across.

With a surge of determination, you grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her forward. The red line loomed closer with each stride. Together, you crossed it, your arm wrapped around her to keep her upright. Relief flooded through you as the mother stumbled forward to meet her, checking her frantically.

You stepped back, your chest heaving as you untied the jacket from your waist and let it fall, the heat radiating off you in waves. The moment was short-lived.

A commotion behind the finish line made you turn. Player 456 was running back onto the field. Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you watched him race toward Player 444, who was still alive but bleeding heavily from his leg.

“What is he doing?” you muttered, clutching the jacket in your hands.

The doll called out, “Red light!” You flinched, certain he wouldn’t make it. But then Player 120 appeared at the other side of Player 444, helping him stand.

“Green light!”

Cheers erupted as the three crossed the line just before the timer hit zero. You moved toward them, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“Let me help!” you urged, dropping to your knees beside them.

You tied your jacket tightly around Player 444’s leg as a makeshift tourniquet, your hands trembling. But before you could take a breath, another shot rang out.

Something warm splattered across your face. Your body went cold, and your hands stilled as the weight of what had just happened sank in. You couldn’t bring yourself to look, your gaze locked on the blood-soaked fabric beneath your fingers.

“We did what we could,” Player 456 said shakily, lowering the man to the ground.

Player 120 helped you to your feet, her grip steady despite the devastation etched into her face. You slung your jacket over your arm, unable to bear the thought of leaving it behind. The horrors of what had just happened clawed at the edges of your mind, but you shoved them down, forcing yourself to move back toward the others.

Player 456 caught your gaze, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. His eyes, filled with a sorrow you now understood, met yours.

“Nothing we did would have stopped them from killing him anyway.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the irony of his words striking too close to home. Player 456 didn’t know what your profession was, but you were bitterly reminded of having to tell similar words to patient families in what felt like a lifetime ago. He tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face, but you shook your head, unwilling to explain.

In that moment, you decided: whatever heart you had left wasn’t meant for this place. Whatever tether you had to the world outside had already been severed.

~

When everyone returned to the sleeping quarters, it came time to vote under the watchful eyes of the pink guards. But first, they revealed the staggering amount of money accumulated so far. The sight of it gripped your heart, the endless possibilities flashing through your mind. What could you do with that prize? Pay off your debts, maybe start over. But the thought soured quickly—even with that money, would it be enough?

As Player 149 and her son, 007, begged among others to be released, you couldn’t help but avert your gaze. A guilty knot tightened in your stomach. Their desperation mirrored the fear you tried to bury deep inside yourself.

The lights dimmed, casting an eerie glow over the room. The blue O and red X on opposite walls illuminated the fine line players were forced to cross after their vote. The tension was suffocating as you turned the question over in your mind: Did you want to go home? Could you even go home?

The emptiness that brought you here clawed at you, a cold, relentless reminder of what awaited you beyond these walls. The fear of returning with nothing—of your share not being enough—fueled your indecision. But was it worth dying for?

Numbers swirled in your mind, an ache reverberating through your chest. And then it hit you: the crushing weight of your debts had left you feeling dead already.

“Player 175,” the guard called.

Your heart sank as the reality of your turn struck.

Walking up the aisle, every pair of eyes burned into your back. Your chest rose and fell unevenly with each step, eager to end the torment. But even when faced with the podium, your hand hesitated over the buttons.

The image of the pregnant girl, the mother, and Player 444’s blood on your jacket haunted you. It went against everything you believed in. And yet, survival instinct whispered a selfish truth you couldn’t ignore: this wasn’t about them. It was about you.

Your clammy hand jerked forward to press the O button.

The buzz of confirmation rang out, and you grabbed the blue patch without looking back. Cries of joy and sorrow mixed in the air as the O’s pulled ahead. Returning to your place, you clenched your jaw, ignoring the murmurs of gratitude from those who’d chosen to stay.

You didn’t do it for them.

“You can’t do this! Come to your senses!” Player 456’s voice rang out, breaking through the noise.

You lifted your head to see him running to the center of the room, desperation etched into his features.

“We have to get out of here! We need the majority vote so we can go home!”

The weight of his plea pressed on you, but the arguments that followed were deafening. Player 100 shot back, “Did they put you down here to act like a player and rile us all up?”

Accusations flew, tensions rising as players shouted over each other. The pink guards stood stoically, like silent sentinels overseeing the chaos. Just when it seemed the room would boil over, Player 149 ran forward, her voice cutting through the noise.

“If it were not for this gentleman, we would not be alive! Stop with the greed and put your lives first!”

Her words brought a brief silence, but it didn’t last. The room erupted once more, voices trying to challenge each other. You had hoped 456 would give up at this rate, seeing as he stood in the center of it all with a loss of words.

But then he shouted over everyone, “I only know about the games because I already played it! Three years ago! Everyone who was with me died!”

A heavy silence fell over the room. You couldn’t say you were surprised, but disbelief still rippled among you and the players. If there was any hope of getting out of here, you knew he would be the right person to stay near if these dreadful games continued. But nonetheless, player 100 threw out another accusation, a conspiracy that he had been planted here and finally, the pink guards quelled the bickering and had to continue the voting.

You watched as the line of undecided players dwindled. Each vote felt like a nail in the coffin of your resolve. Deep in thought, your vision blurred as you stared at the scoreboard. A movement beside you broke your focus. Player 120 stood there, her presence steady and unassuming. She had chosen to stay.

You offered a polite smile, which she returned. The two of you stood in a shared, uneasy silence as the vote drew closer to its conclusion.

“You, uh, you were quick to try and help that player earlier. It was impressive,” she said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the hum of the room.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I… thank you,” you stammered. “Trying to tourniquet his leg wouldn’t have done much overall, I guess.”

The dryness of your tone surprised even you. Her wide-eyed reaction made you chuckle nervously. To your relief, she mirrored your grim humor with a quiet snicker.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I work at a hospital with a big trauma center. It… it wears you down.”

“I served for some time, so I understand,” Player 120 replied.

Despite your earlier resolve to keep to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that she might be an ally. Among the ruthless others who had voted to stay, she seemed different—steadfast, but not cold.

Finally, the last ten players cast their votes. The air was thick with anticipation as the numbers on the scoreboard crept closer to a tie. Your heart pounded, a maddening loop of questions echoing in your mind. Then, Player 001 stepped forward.

You hadn’t thought of it til now how strange being player 001 must feel, the entire weight of the games future at his hand. He walked with a quiet confidence, his every movement deliberate. You and Player 120 leaned forward, watching intently as he reached the podium.

The soft buzz of confirmation filled the room as he pressed the O button. The scoreboard shifted, casting the room in a faint blue glow. The decision was final: the games would continue.

The cheers from some players were a stark contrast to the defeated cries of others. You swallowed hard, your gaze drifting to the crowd that had wanted to go home. Their anguish was a sharp reminder of what you had chosen to forsake. It was your job to heal people, to care for them in their darkest moments.

But as you turned your head back toward the front, your gaze landed on the newest arrival to your side of the games. The reveal of Player 001s face hit you like a jolt of whiplash and your breath got caught in your throat.

It had been so long since you’d seen him that, for a moment, you wondered if it was a trick of the dim light. His face was older now, shadows playing across his features in the red and blue glow. But it was him. There was no mistaking it.

He hadn’t noticed you yet. The crowd around him welcomed him as though he were any other player. You stood frozen on the ground that was pulled out from beneath you, unsure whether to hide or step forward. But when he began retreating to the O side, his eyes finally found yours.

It felt like fire across your chest when you noticed that he recognized you.

He stopped mid-step, only a few yards away now. Something invisible seemed to tether him to the spot as his gaze burned into you.

“In Ho?” you whispered, the name barely audible over the noise.

You weren’t even sure he could hear it, but it slipped out anyway.

His face tensed, the muscles of his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his expression neutral. But the name had reached him.

“Y/N,” he said finally, the words heavy, almost forced.

Whatever you had thought you were fighting for before—money, survival—was irrelevant now. In Ho’s presence brought back a piece of your life you had long buried. Now, it stood before you, trapped in this brutal game of life and death.

[snoopy7c7]

Swapped Wonderland Excerpt

Swapped Wonderland AU I'm working on alongside @dragon-createsand @endomentendo

Jax: “And last on our stop is just delivering this letter to the Red Queen.”

Pomni: “Today’s certainly been a productive day, wouldn’t you say?”

Jax: “It was most efficient, I admit. Despite some unpleasant moments.”

Pomni: “What was that?”

Jax (flustered/changing subject): “Uh-up ahead! I can see the castle coming up in the distance.”

(Pomni looks ahead to see the castle. She stops dead in her tracks, dropping the bag. Jax is still walking before he notices Pomni missing from his side.)

Jax: “Ms Penny? What are you doing?”

(She doesn’t answer. Annoyed, Jax approaches her.)

Jax: “Ms Penny, come on we need to finish this. Stop fooling arou-”

(But he stops when he notices her shaking in place. Tilting his head he waves his hand in front of her.)

Jax: “Ms Penny?”

(She doesn’t react.)

Jax: “Hey come on now, quit fooling around. Let’s just deliver the letter and-”

(He reaches out to softly touch her shoulder as her breath hitches. She suddenly pushes him back as she lets out a deep wail.)

Pomni: “NO! DON’T GO IN THERE!”

(Jax stumbles back, looking back in shock.)

Jax: “Don’t go? I have to do my job.”

(She hunches over as she presses her hands to her head, crying out.)

Pomni: “I CAN’T GO BACK THERE! THEY TOOK THEM FROM ME!”

(Jax begins to feel his skin prickle, this has far turned from a joke.)

Jax: “What are you talking about? You’ve never even been to the castle before.”

(He reaches out his arm only for the girl to cower back, clouded from her own mind.)

Pomni: “PLEASE! DON’T HURT ME!”

(His eyes widened.)

Jax (low): “Hurt you?”

(Jax steps forward as he kneels down to her level. She had tears streaming down her face, her vision unfocused.)

Jax: “Hey Penny? Penny. Penny, listen to me, whatever it is, you’re not there now. You're okay.”

(Pomni shakes her head, beginning to shake uncontrollably.)

Pomni: “I’M-I’M SORRY, PLEASE. JUST DON’T HURT THEM."

Jax: "Hurt who Penny?"

(Her one eye was closed shut as she held onto herself tightly.)

Pomni: "MOM! DAD! DON'T GO!”

(Jax’s eyes widen as he shakes his head slightly. He places his hands firmly on the sides of her face as he forces her to look up at him.)

Jax: “Pomni, LOOK AT ME.”

(Pomni gasps for a second as her eye connects with his. She blinks for a second. The light in her eye seems to come back. She’s now focusing on him. Fresh tears start welling up before she feels herself grow weaker. Jax catches her as she leans into his embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. He holds her close to his chest as he tries to comfort her.)

Jax: “Hey, hey you’re okay now. You’re okay.”

Pomni (choking out): “I-I d-don’t know what h-h-happened. I’m-I’m s-s-sorr-”

Jax: “Shh don’t apologize. Just try to focus on your breathing.”

(Her chest heaved up and down. Jax felt his chest become heavy with burden as began to take deep, calming breaths. It took a minute for Pomni to catch on as she did her best to match his breathing. She calmed a little but was still worked up, huffing and sniffling. Jax looked to the side, they had dropped their items and the letter from the whole ordeal. With his free hand he gathers them and manages to put them back in the bag. Putting it over his shoulder, he then slipped his arm around Pomni and hoisted her up. He gave a grunt as he looked back at her.)

Jax: “I’m taking you home.”

Pomni (growing emotional again): “B-But y-your l-letter.”

Jax: “It can wait. Let’s go home.”

(As he starts walking, Pomni can’t stop the tears as she just presses her face into his chest, beginning to sob once again. Jax kept his eyes forward as he pressed her closer to his embrace. Despite the deep pain in her chest and head, being held so close by him, she felt a deep seeded peace as she managed to calm enough to say.)

Pomni: “Yes, let’s go home.”

[keeryhours]

real love, baby - chapter one

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You get some life changing news, and telling Billy doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N:

Yay a new series! I’ve been dying to write for Billy again. I hope you guys like this, your comments and support mean the world to me.

When Billy had arrived at Hawkins High for the first time, roaring into the parking lot in his blue Camaro and wearing the tightest jeans known to man, he had caught the attention of every girl in school.

Including you.

You weren’t exactly…popular. Actually, you were considered a freak. Best friends with Eddie Munson and proud member of the Hellfire club, you caught a lot of shit from your classmates. You knew from the second you saw Billy Hargrove that you never had a chance.

You had never been more surprised to be wrong.

You knew Billy had a reputation for going through girls like crazy, sleeping with them and leaving them high and dry. Yet you still found yourself falling for him. And when he approached you and asked you out, you said yes embarrassingly fast.

“Asking you out” ended up being a late night trip to Lover’s Lake, making out before moving into the backseat and letting him fuck you. That might sound crude, but there was no better way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t making love.

Your late night visits with Billy became a regular thing. It was kept quiet - Billy didn’t tell anyone, and he acted like he didn’t know you at school. The only person who knew was Eddie, because he was your best friend in the world and you told him everything. He did not approve, but he wasn’t about to tell you how to live your life. He was just scared you’d get hurt.

Which, of course, you inevitably did. But we’ll get to that.

You held out hope that one day Billy might see you as more than a secret hookup, that he might take you out on an actual date and show you off at school, but you knew those were just dreams. Deep down, you knew Billy was embarrassed to be seen with you. He showed up at Hawkins High and became the most popular guy in school - he wasn’t about to let anyone know he was secretly sleeping with The Freak.

This routine worked out for a while. That is, until you had the realization you had skipped your period while you were throwing your guts up before school one morning. Ice cold fear struck into your heart, and you realized you had really fucked up.

That day you went to school looking nearly as bad as you felt. Carol Perkins giggled as you passed her in the hallway, whispering something to Heather Holloway. You had too much on your mind to care. Billy gave you a strange look when he saw you, but didn’t say anything.

You found Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant at your usual spot in the cafeteria. You walked over and took a seat, not even bothering to get anything to eat because it would just come back up anyway.

Eddie did a double take when he saw you. “Jesus,” he said, taking in your messy hair, bloodshot eyes and melancholy expression. “What happened to you?”

The other guys were deep in conversation about the latest campaign. You leaned closer to Eddie. “I skipped my period. And now I’m getting sick.”

Eddie just blinked at you. He looked like he didnt understand - you saw the moment the realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking down at the table. “Oh, shit.”

“Did you…take a test?” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer to you.

“No.” You picked at a loose string on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I figured I would go to the doctor so I don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie looked around the cafeteria before his eyes landed on you again. “Do you want me to take you?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You would do that?”

Eddie smiled. “Well, yeah, of course. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna make you go alone.”

You felt relieved to hear that. This was scary enough without having to go through it all alone. “I don’t know how I would have even made it there by myself without alerting my parents anyway.”

“Eddie Munson chauffeur, at your service,” he said with a bow. You snorted.

“Thanks, Eds.”

That evening after school you rushed home before your parents could get there and picked up the phone. You dialed the number for your primary care doctor’s office with shaking hands and made the appointment, not telling the receptionist over the phone what it was for. You figured you’d deal with that when you got there.

The next day passed in a blur. You looked presentable at least, but you had to leave class twice to go throw up in the bathroom. Billy gave you a concerned look when he saw you in the hallway again, but you ignored him.

After school you met Eddie at his van. He opened the passenger side door for you - “My lady,” he said with a dramatic bow - before jumping in the driver’s seat and starting up the old vehicle. You noticed Billy watching you from his Camaro where he waited for his younger sister.

Eddie blasted music over the radio while you drove. It made you feel better because you weren’t in the mood for conversation. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you could throw up again. You took deep breaths as he drove to keep the nausea under control. Eddie always drove like a maniac.

He pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, some older ladies standing by their cars giving you a dirty look as the van tore into the parking lot blasting Metallica. Eddie didn’t notice.

He walked with you into the office, taking a seat in the waiting room while you went to reception to check in. You gave the receptionist your name, and she handed you a clipboard and pen and told you to take a seat.

The questions on the forms were standard. Your personal information, health history, medications, etc. By the time you finished with it, a nurse was opening the door and calling your name. Eddie squeezed your knee before you stood, letting you know he was here for support and would be right where you left him.

The nurse had you do the usual tasks - your weight and height, pee in a cup, and they took some blood samples. You waited in the exam room for the doctor, kicking your feet as you sat on the tall table. You felt more like a child than you had in the past few years.

When the doctor walked in carrying a clipboard and saying your name, you felt like you could throw up for the millionth time. He looked at you solemnly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be good news.

“Your pregnancy test came back positive,” he said. “Based on your bloodwork, I would estimate you at about 6 weeks.”

The room spun around you. You suddenly felt way too hot and claustrophobic in this tiny room. You wished you had asked Eddie to come back with you. You felt incredibly dizzy, like you could pass out. This was not happening. It was not happening.

“You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he continued, oblivious to your internal panic. “I’ll give you some brochures with information and resources.”

You left the doctor’s office with a handful of pamphlets on pregnancy, birth, babies, and motherhood. Your face was white as a ghost, and Eddie clocked it the second you walked back into the waiting room.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing as you approached him and wrapping you in a tight hug. The tears fell as you buried your face in his chest. He stroked your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out. You’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie helped you walk back out to the van on shaking legs. You couldn’t stop the tears now. Your life was over. Billy was never going to want to stick around for this.

Oh, god. Billy.

You didn’t even want to tell him. It was going to be a disaster. He was already embarrassed for anyone to know you were hooking up, but for the whole school to know he had gotten you pregnant? He would never allow that.

You were on your own.

Fuck.

You wanted to skip school, but your parents weren’t buying the “I’m sick” excuse. Of course it was the one morning you weren’t throwing up everything you’d eaten the night before. You got yourself together as much as you could, dressing yourself in a band tee and your favorite ripped jeans.

Eddie stayed by your side as much as he could at school. He met you in front of the school and walked you inside to your first class. You were grateful for his support.

It was halfway through first period when the nausea hit you again. Your hand shot up, asking “Can I go to the restroom?” and then sprinting out of the room before you even got a response. You barely made it to the bathroom in time, locking yourself in a stall and falling to your knees as you threw up.

When you were done, your eyes were watering. You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your face, flushing the toilet and standing up shakily. You straightened your clothes and unlocked the stall door, walking out into the bathroom.

Only to see Carol Perkins, of all people.

She gave you a smug smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Hope you feel better, Freak.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past her back into the hall, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, the voice in your head telling you this is very, very bad.

You were surprised that nothing seemed to come of it as you moved on to your next classes. By the time you went to lunch, you were wondering if maybe she just kept it to herself for once.

That bubble was popped by Gareth Emerson.

The second you and Eddie placed your trays down at your usual spots, all the boys looked up at you. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all looked at you with pity, which made your stomach twist into knots.

“…What?” You asked hesitantly, your blood running cold.

Gareth looked at Eddie, then back to you. “Uh…Carol Perkins is telling everyone you’re pregnant.”

If you weren’t already nauseous, you certainly were now. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your hands gripped onto your tray tightly as you tried to focus and calm yourself, but it wasn’t working. Your breaths were coming in shorter, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

The feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing your arm brought you out of it. His rings were cold against your skin, grounding you to reality. Your reality wasn’t that great, though.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jeff asked.

“It’s not…true, is it?” Gareth asked, his eyebrows raised.

You burst into tears. You couldn’t help it. You covered your face with your hands, crying your eyes out. This seriously could not be happening like this. You knew it would come out eventually - I mean, you could only hide it for so long - but you weren’t ready for it now. You’d only had one night to wrap your head around it yourself.

“Oh god,” Gareth said. “It is true.”

Eddie pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back and giving Gareth a dirty look over the top of your head. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed into his shirt. “Everyone knows. That means Billy’s heard. The whole school has heard. My life here was shitty enough, this is a whole other level.”

“Wait, Billy?” Gareth said, exchanging a look with Jeff and Grant. “Billy Hargrove?”

Eddie gave him another look. He stroked your hair, the soothing gesture helping to calm your racing heart. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Billy flicked the ash off his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. He leaned against his car, talking with Tommy Hagan. He was just about to leave when Carol came walking over, smiling like she knew something they didn’t.

“Hey baby,” Tommy greeted her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Have you guys heard?” Carol asked, like she couldn’t wait to say whatever she knew. Billy wasn’t particularly interested, dragging on his cigarette one more time.

Tommy took the bait, however. “About what?”

When it was your name that came out of Carol’s mouth, it grabbed Billy’s attention fully. He glanced up at Carol nonchalantly, but he was listening intently.

“What about that Freak?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

Carol giggled. “She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up in the bathroom during first period.”

Billy felt sick to his stomach. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot. “No way that’s true.”

“Why?” Carol asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Billy.

Because you would have told him, right? And he always used a condom. There was no way. “That Freak? No way she’s getting any action.”

Carol and Tommy laughed like Billy had said the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “I don’t know though,” Carol said, “Tina said she’s been running out of class to go to the bathroom all week. She’s definitely knocked up. It’s probably Munson’s. Two freaks in love.” Carol giggled, and Tommy started laughing again.

Billy forced himself to laugh, but nothing was funny. He wanted to throw up himself. “Hey, I left something in my locker. I’ll see you guys later.” He pushed off his car and walked back into the school.

He had to find you. He had to find out what the hell was going on.

You closed your locker as you got the last book you needed for your homework. You had waited until most of your classmates had left, the hallway deserted. The looks from your classmates all day had been enough. You shoved your stuff into your backpack, preparing to leave to meet Eddie at his van.

As you were walking down the hall, the doors opened and you saw Billy walking towards you. You felt like turning and running the other way. As he reached you, he nodded towards an empty classroom.

You thought about ignoring him, about leaving and letting Eddie take you home and maybe transferring schools and never seeing any of these people again. Instead, you followed him into the classroom.

Inside the empty room, Billy was pacing, running his hand through his dirty blonde curls. Your stomach hurt as you closed and locked the door behind you. When you reached him Billy spun on you, his eyes wild.

“Are you pregnant?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how you wanted him to find out. You thought you’d have more time, time to think about what to say and how exactly to break the news. Fucking Carol Perkins.

“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Billy.

He looked horrified. “You’re- it- it’s…mine?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slowly. “Yeah. It’s yours.”

Billy let out a rush of air. He started combing his fingers through his mullet again, pacing back and forth in front of you. “I- we- there’s just no fucking way. I used a condom every time.”

“Condoms can fail, Billy-“

“Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, yeah, but it’s so rare. There’s…there’s no fucking way you’re- pregnant with my kid.”

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with,” you reminded him, your voice small. You knew you weren’t the only girl he slept with. “And I went to the doctor. They did blood work. I’m definitely…pregnant.” The word was still hard to say.

Billy shook his head. “You- this is fucking insane. I’m not raising some kid.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” he breathed out another rush of air. “I’m not doing this. Whatever you want from me, I’m not doing it. I’m not ruining my life to raise a kid.”

The tears welled up in your eyes. “So you’re saying you’re abandoning us.”

Billy scoffed. “‘Abandoning.’ I have more to live for than this. I was gonna…I was gonna get out of here.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna get the fuck out of this shithole town. I was gonna go back to California. I…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’ll give you money for an abortion, I’ll take you to get it, whatever. But I’m not doing this.”

And with that he left, slamming the classroom door behind him and leaving you alone.

The tears really fell then. It was worse than you imagined. You were really all alone in this. Just you…and your baby.

On your own.

tag list

@rincallistis

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello lovely fandom! It’s tiiimmeeeee. I’m so ready for this premiere. This hiatus felt like the longest one yet. Probably cause they weren’t allowed to share literally anything for months and months. While I might still gripe we’re only getting 18 and 20 would’ve been better….I am psyched to be analyzing a new season ❤️

Changing these up to First impressions cause mini and I don’t get along in terms of brevity. Now imma try and be briefer since I’ll be doing a deep dive next summer. Hopefully in our next hiatus. *fingers crossed* The library still a turd for new gifs. So had to make all mine. Also I must have a new angle at my new place. So they came out not how I wanted lol But after a full day of work I was too tired to re-do them all. It's a miracle this is coming out with how tired I am haha Anyways bear with me and hopefully next weeks gifs are better ha Off we go!

7x01 The Shot.

Cool thanks recap. Not like we forgot the breakup that ruined us all…Would like to say someday that won't ruin me to watch, but that's a lie...Love that to leave the lineup for recaps now. Thanks.

It's the little things like them sitting next to each other in the swat car that make me so happy. Not gonna lie I was grinning like a damn fool just seeing them seated together. God I missed them. Straight giddy them working together in the field. It’s where they originated. It’s where they’re going to heal.

I love her directing him in the field. That snap of her fingers and he knows instantly what she needs and follows. That beautiful rhythm only they can achieve. Silent communication at it's finest folks. Mmm loving this. Lucy taking down a dude double her size and Tim coming in to help finish him off. Hot damn I love them in the field. Legit ship crack to me everyone. Look at those beautiful humans in motion above. I can't get enough.

Oooh lord T.O Tim *fans self* Mmm Can’t say haven’t missed him. I'll be real honest. Yum. Thank you Nolan for not undermining him while he sized them up. We would've had words sir. It probably shouldn't delight me watching him tear them apart, and yet here we are with me drooling over him. With zero regrets. Just nice to see him in his element after being knocked out of it last year. I shall enjoy this year for him I can already tell.

Ha! Bingo card hit. That's one square down. ‘Grey guides Lucy with her career.’ Yasss I’m a dork I know but you all knew this ha Grey pulling strings to get her to T.O. "Temp." I’m sure it’ll stick. He see’s what a good teacher and leader she is. Look at him jumping starting this for her. Nudging her in the right direction.

Lucy not being sure....Still battling with that UC identity and detective path. Some left over S6 bleh hanging around. I think Grey is setting her path and she has no idea how ‘not temporary’ this will be. At least IMO. I see her excelling at this and wanting to stay at it. Plus like Grey said it’ll strengthen her position should detective come back up. Also like to list the reasons why I think this will be good for her.

One it'll rebuild her confidence. Something we all know was shattered and then run over by s6. Second it'll give her a new purpose and clarity for her career. (Which is also a bingo square for me. Yes I'll be tallying mine all year lol) Now she has to accept being a FT one for it to apply but I think it will. Lastly it'll get rid of the pesky 'Chain of Command' issue for them later on. Because we don't want that again.

Tim enters the chat and he is a most welcome addition. The mini banter about her training. I'm here for it and I love love love it. Look at the flirty smirks on these idiots. Like breathing fresh air once again. The small smirks have me reeling. Gimme. Grey although has no time for this LOL Ushering their asses out. Just happy they can breathe the same air again and not have it be nuclear.

Then the real banter begins. I’ve missed them so much. I wanna cry. Tim instantly offering to give her tips. Is this one of his small doses? Possibly I think he would’ve offered this as an olive branch either way tbh. But I love seeing how eager he is to bond with her over this. Lucy’s so cute with her ‘ My rookie.’ Girl you’re gonna wanna stay a T.O. I already see it.

Lucy of course has her sassy answer locked and loaded for him. He answers right back. Goodness their banter is top tier. And woo another bingo card for me. Well this was not in my official bingo card. BUT I did say how if she ended up as a T.O. this season this would happen. In my 6x08 review said they would end up doing a bet over who trains a better rookie. And here we are. I'm enjoying my spoils and grinning like a happy fool. Which is nice after spending the second half of s6 being emotionally spent and destroyed.

Oh Lucy, like you could ever walk way from your man about a competitive bet of all things. This is how they’re gonna heal my friends. Going back to the beginning. To their roots. Where this rock solid bond was started. In the field. Along with some banter and fiery competition thrown in. This new dynamic has me so giddy I can’t even contain myself.

You can see how excited Tim is she’s going to be a T.O. With him. Flirting with her by offering this up. Moth to a flame with her in general. But this? Man is raring to go. Being a T.O and competition with his girl? He is beaming with excitement. Also probably knows this is a good way to further his cause of mending fences.

The goading of her oh my lord. It’s s4 all over again and I’m here for it. Except Tim is far more aware he’s in love with this woman. The straight teasing and flirting in front of the entire station. Welcome back. Oh my word I love sfm. His telling smirk is amazing. Reeling her back in slowly LOL

Nolan actually ignites more flirty flirts for them when he tells them about the ringer. Because classic John can't shut his yapper. I’ve truly missed this high grade goodness though. Lucy accusing him of hustling her haha Tim deescalates her like only he can with his strong logic. Saying it's actually harder that he has previous experience. He’s not wrong. First thing I thought about him when they said he had experience…Poor Seth called a virgin lmao

The rookies get assigned and we get jealous/protective Tim. Welcome back to our screens. You've been missed. *grabs ice water* This premiere is trying to kill me in the best way. I was here for the show. You tell that cocky little boy babe. I think someone else had one of the rookies flirts with Lucy in their bingo card. So you get that square ha The balls to do that in front of Tim. This kid has a death wish on wheels.

Ovary explosion at the way he barked at him though. Man is making me thirsty af. Also this kid is not a ringer in the least. I know what it’s like to de-program someone. It’s not easy. When I would get someone from another team (and terrible manager btw) I would spend the first 30 days just getting rid of the bad habits before I could begin to mold them. So ringer he is not....Lucy has a better shot with fresh meat tbh. Seth is far more impressionable. Hence her finishing line above.

Tim TEARS Texas a new one. Was kind of hoping he would. Nothing like a solid Tim T.O. rant. This kid needed it holy cow. Too damn cocky for a rookie even with experience. Makes it worse. Get em Tim! I’m enjoying this far too much. Haha Mmm. Sidelines his ass as he should. Maybe he can rejoin when his ego is in check.

This scene had me cackling. First off look at them both with crossed arms. I'm dying. Also Lying liars who lie LOL Both struggling a little bit with their rookies. It’s hilarious. Can’t ever admit fault of course. Very s4 vibes going on here I love it sfm.

Friggin Nolan has to be include himself...Listen John they checked the guest list for this work flirt convo. You're not on it sir. So needy this one. He actually didn't bug me much at all in this one. Probably the lack of Bailey....

Tim’s final T.O scene has me drooling holy hell. The jacket, the stern taking to, and telling them to suck less? I’m dying hahaha I loved how this was shot. Seeing the faces as Tim grills them both. Putting them in place. I love it sfm I'm so VERY excited for this season for him. If this was our look into it I am ready for more.

Oh my word, this final scene of theirs. If you don’t feel giddy, and a sense of promise for reconciliation from this interaction, I can't help you. LOL. I mean that in the nicest way haha I really do. The subtext running through this scene like a bullet train of hope. The moment begins with puppy dog Tim. Let’s take a second to contrast how he just was with the rookies earlier. To seeing his girl in the parking lot. That's the Lucy Chen effect.

That man is walking on air, and beaming his best ‘Lucy’ smile as he approaches her car, looking like a damn snack I wanna devour. I adore the swapping of stories. Giving each other shit but staying confident in their abilities to right their rookies ships as it were. Lucy saying ‘Tomorrow is another day.’ With Tim’s hopeful ‘Yes it is.’ Got me all in my damn feels. To me it’s a positive setup for the entire season. The low key flirty vibes here are glorious first and foremost. Second the flirting inside the promise with those two lines has me reeling.

The smiles they both convey just shows our babies are healing. Lucy is healing. She isn’t holding back with the positivity and flirting right back. There is this underlying UST too. But the most beautiful part is their talk about 'Tomorrow'. Tomorrow is another day for them to get one step closer to being who they once were. Only stronger. Tim’s 'Yes it is.' Is everything. His tone of voice, how he’s looking at her, and that determination to make something out of every day he gets with her. Driven to make tomorrow a day he inches one step closer to the promise he made in the elevator in 6x10. Oooh lord I’m excited for this season.

I said couple days ago how amped I was for this new dynamic. Them being T.O’s together and finding their way back in this fashion. It’s a fantastic and true to them way to do it. Couldn’t be more excited. The LOOKS everyone my god. The way he is pining after her. Doesn’t tear eyes away for a second as she pulls off. And our girl checks the mirror not once but TWICE.

Making eyes right back at him. This scene should excite the hell out of you. I’m scaling the walls right now haha This is as a very very promising opening episode for them. Little more proof they're going to make their way back. Won't be right away but it's coming. This is what I was longing for when we left off all those months ago.

For them to be in a better place to even start this healing. I’m so ready for this journey. I really am. Trusting the writers to do this at the right pace. So when it does happen and it will. We’re gonna be on cloud 9 x1000 Ooof lord that was good. They know how to close out an ep our ship. Watched promo for next ep. I’m vibrating with excitement.

The UST I feel from that little clip is the beauty of Eric and Melissa. This season gonna be incredible i feel it deep in my soul baha Now I’m excited we don’t have a break now that we’re here. As always thank you thank you thank you. To any and all who comments(love me to chat don’t be shy wanna theorize with you all) , like or reblog these. You have no idea how much it means to me. Also proud of myself for keeping this brief ish for me lol Below is my side notes feel free to comment on anything said in this or below till next week my lovely fandom :)

~~

Side notes non Chenford

No Bailey in a the premiere was already staring off with a win for me. Sorry Jenna but ya know lol sorta not….really…

Lieutenant Grey! So happy for him. Solid reasoning why he got it. Sucks he feels bad but I'm glad for him.

Lots of action off the bat hot damn. They said we'd have more and I loved it

Oooh loving Wes being assumed to the station. Welcome sir. Happy to have you and more Wopez moments to come.

Aaron went to north Hollywood someone had to lol Makes sense he would leave due to Blair. Also leaves the door open for him to return someday. Which makes my heart happy.

Poor Wes has to hear the recording of a man wanting to do things to his wife lol oh my lord. He’s legit having a meltdown about it hahah I sense some trouble for Wopez. Should be interesting season for them.

[stargirl-ae]

It's Just Pretend ; L. Howlett ⚔︎

Pairing: Logan x Female Reader

Summary: Reader has a formal work gala she needs to attend and she's spoken to her colleagues that's she's newly married and they wish to meet her husband. Push comes to shove Logan attends the work gala with Reader and the night ends with an exploration of each other.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Unprotected schmex (wrap it before ya tap it, gents), Oral (F! Receiving), Fake marriage.

Word count: 2.4k

MDNI

a/n: okay, hi! i legit haven't written in SO LONG ! buut, this has been in my notes for like three weeks and I wrote this after watching Deadpool and Wolverine for the second time and i legit was half drunk off of six raspberry twisted teas, but when i say i had an entire h o r n y episode about logan, gnawing on the iron bars (or whatever brittany broski said) plus i don't know how to do summarys and warnings and correctly.

this is not spell checked / grammar checked don’t come for me

anyway, enjoy yall 𝜗𝜚

⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆

“Please Logan, for the love of God, can you please just get dressed? I will leave alone.” you shouted more at yourself than at Logan, you were still getting ready in the mirror, with a large white light surrounding your reflection. The bathroom counter was scattered with your makeup, your straighter, and possible perfume options. “This is stupid, I don’t look right in a goddamn suit,” You could hear him mumble in the hallway outside of the bathroom. “Look, a lot of important people are going to be there, I just want to see like it’s like I have my life together, with a good job and a husband, please !” at this point you're gritting these words through my teeth. 

“A husband !? You don’t even have a goddamn ring? How are people supposed to believe that!?” The temper in his voice only seems to get higher. “It doesn’t take a fucking genius to order one online.” You snap back at him. Letting out a breath and stare into you reflection, your dark hair perfectly straighten out, your eyes surrounded by the color of sage green eyeshadow, black satin dress clung to your figure perfectly hugging ever curve and contour out of your body. Turning around to look over your shoulder to see yourself from behind and in all honestly, you're happily with your results of your own talent with your hair and makeup.

You could hear Logan huffing, he can be so goddamn stubborn. “A fake marriage, how fucking cliche can y-“ his words were cut off, he stood in the doorframe of the bathroom and the energy changes in the room, the air stiff, no movement, no friction. Turning your head slightly to see Logan in black dress pants, no shirt, no shoes. His toned torso, rising and falling with every breath he took. “Shit, if I knew you cleaned up this good I would’ve made you my fake wife months ago.” His mouth slid into a smirk, his hazel eyes raking my body up and down. Suddenly in that moment you felt way too exposed, collarbones exposed, the way the low-cut satin hung between your tits. “Look, you need to tell me now if you’re going with me, I need to leave in like ten minutes.” You huff out at him, eyes would dart from his chest to his eyes, his lips. “If you weren’t so busy eye-fucking me, we could’ve left two minutes ago, bub.”

— *after the work gala* —

“A fake wife, what a fucking idea,” Logan buried his words into your neck, his lips slightly nicking at the sensitive skin. The work gala ended up being filled with tequila and champagne, seeing a fake three carat diamond ring on your left hand being left to pretend this perfect married life with Logan brought me to this very situation; slammed into his bedroom door here in the X-Mansion. “I could make you mine, bub.” His voice vibrates against the side of your neck. "Y-yes Logan, I’m yours, please.” the words came out more as a whine than they did words. His scruff tickled the sensitive skin near my pulse point, he snuck in a laugh against my skin. “Look at you, so desperate for me.” He trailed kisses down my neck and near my collarbone. My breath hitches in my throat. My thoughts were messily left all over my mind, this was so wrong, but fuck, everything felt so good, so fucking right. 

We were on the outside of Logan’s bedroom door, “Logan, someone could hear us, s-someone could see us.” Your eyes fluttered, his lips felt so good against the tender skin of my collarbone. “Shh, it’s two in the morning, nobody’s up.” Just fucking us. “Wait, wait, wait.” Grabbing on to his face, to pull him away from my skin. “Please, behind closed doors.” Your breath was heavy, and Logan's hazel eyes looked into mine with lust and need. “Do I need to pretend we’re fucking married? I can do that.” He raised an eyebrow at you, in mere seconds he crouches down and buries his arms behind your legs, with the sudden movement you squeal. “Shit! Logan!.” He manages to open the door and we head through the doorframe. 

There was no denying the way you felt about Logan, why would you think I would choose him as a husband. Well, a fake husband.  Logan kicked the door closed and took a few more steps until we reached his bed. The room smelled of whiskey, musk, and cigars. The smell was undeniably him, the definition of a man. “For the love of God, you look too fucking good in this dress,” He was gentle, placing you down on his bed. His eyes taking in every detail of your dress and your body. Your chest rising and falling with the amount of sheer intensity of what this was. “Too good to fuck me in?” The words left your mind before you could even process them. Your left hand flew to my mouth, not believing what you just said. “Oh my God.” 

You could see Logan’s eyes fall to the faux wedding ring, “Is that what my wife wants?” My wife, fuck that sounds so good. He snakes his way between my legs, his face meeting mine. He takes a deep breath in, a smirk curling upon his lips. “I can smell how fucking wet this cunt is for me.” he sneaks a hand between my thighs, playing over the delicate fabric of your lace panties. “Mmm, so fucking wet. Tell me how you want me bub, hmm ? My wife, how does she want me?” His pointer finger swirls little circles on your clit through the thin fabric. Logan may be over two hundred years old, he may know is way around a woman’s body but fuck this was heavenly. “Fuck, please Lo- fuck me please.” Your plea rung through his bedroom like a prayer. 

“That’s my girl.” He placed rough kisses on your shoulder, biting down on the strap of your dress, his finger still swirling circles on your sensitive bud. You could only manage to hum back positive hymns back to him. He pulled down a single strap until your chest was revealed. He managed to do the same with the other side until your entire chest was exposed, your nipples hardened under the feeling of the cold air in his room. “Fuck, look at you, so fucking beautiful.” He buried his head between your tits, his breath against your sensitive skin. Placing kisses across one of your breast, licking over your nipple, a ray of electricity struck through you. He places his warm mouth over your nipple, his teeth nicking lightly, sucking you in softly. Grabbing a pillow and placed it over your face to keep myself from sounding like a fool. Your nipple came from his mouth with a comical pop, he laughed to himself and moved to the other side. In a way you wanted to laugh at that sound, tossing aside the pillow off his bed.d “Do you know how hard I tried to control myself tonight? With you looking like this?” He looked up at you through his thick lashes. Again he places his warm mouth against your sensitive skin, in that same moment I could feel him push your panties to the side. Skin to skin, his index finger meet your clit, circling the sensitive bunch of nerves. 

“Oh my god,” everything felt like heaven. Logan let go out go of your nipple from his mouth to move to the part of your dress that had still been hugging my torso. He trailed kisses down your stomach, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, dragging you towards the edge of the bed. He lowered himself between your thighs, feeling his breath against your core. You could hear him breathing you in, his chest heaving. “Look at her bub, fucking soaking for me.” His voice hums against the walls of his bedroom. He inches closer to your clit, taking in small kitten-like licks. Even the slightest amount of friction was ecstasy. Your hands traveling into his brown hair, peppered with grey strands. He hums against you, he licks through you folds, leaving you a moaning mess “Fuck, yes Logan! Please baby!” Your back arches off his king sized bed. His tongue laps over your clit time and time again. He dives two fingers into your aching core while his tongue laps over your bud. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes!” You praise him, your words linger in throughout the room. His fingers steady in your cunt, curling up to reach that sweet fucking spot, your mouth falls open like a goddamn fool. 

“Look at you bub, you wanna come for me?” He came up from in between my legs, his eyes meeting yours. “Yes, L-Logan, please, baby, let me come. Don’t stop.” God, you couldn’t have sounded anymore needy. His fingers pump into your cunt like his like his life depended on it. His thumb tracing over your clit. Your breathing was erratic. Your chest heavy with ecstasy. Your stomach was tight with emotion and warmth. Your chants echoed like a perfect prayer. The warm coil snapped in your stomach and your mouth fell open with the sound of Logan’s name. “Holy shit, fuck me.” You breathe out. 

You could feel the heat in your face flush, you swear you were seeing stars. Your eyes raked over Logan’s body, his chest, his stomach, your eyes meet where his waistline laid perfectly, the outline of his slightly hard cock. “You want me to fuck you huh? Anything for my wife.” With his words he undoes his belt to under his button on his black dress pants. He pulled down his pants slowly, leaving his cock to spring up. He’s not even fully hard and it’s fucking huge. “Oh my god,” Once again the words leave my mind before I could process. He palms himself, his head falling back with the smallest moan. “You gonna be my good girl? My good fucking wife taking my cock?” His words like velvet through your ears. Your voice was barely audible as a hum, you shook your head. He pulled down his boxer letting his cock spring free, coming up to nearly hit his stomach. His tip was this deep red leaking pre-cum. “L-Lo, I don’t know if you’re gonna fit baby,” In all honestly, you did process that thought. “Oh baby, you can take, you can tell me if you wanna stop okay?” His words were soft as he pumped himself. 

Logan wanted to learn your body as he went, and what he knew as of right now if that you’re just a sensitive bunch of nerves, he passes the head of his cock through my folds, playing against your clit, leaving you a whimpering mess. Moving your hips against his cock until he’s lined up against your cunt. “Look at her, begging me to fuck her,” His cock was at your sensitive entrance of the your cunt, “Please baby, fuck me.” Your brows furrowing together. Logan pushed into you ever so slowly, your cunt hugging around every inch of his cock. He groans out your name. “Goddamn it!” He cursed out. “You’re so fucking tight,” He pushed in another inch into your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, Lo, stretching out my fucking pussy, fuuuck.” The words fell out of your mouth. Logan’s hips moved ever so slighty, energy pulsing through your sensitive cunt. “Do you want me to stop.” The genuine concern brought you back to reality, looking down to find that he had inches to go into your cunt. Shaking your head no, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Please, please, go deeper.” Fucking whines left your lips. He pushes deeper into your cunt, his thumb lapping over your clit. This was fucking ecstasy. 

Each movement was carefully done by Logan, his hips jerking slightly, every advancement into my care was heaven. “Fuck, baby. She’s takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” He gritted through his teeth. The delicate praises ring through my ears nearly take me over the edge. “Fuck, give me more, please Lo-“ a pathetic please, a beg, a whine. “As you wish, sweetheart.” He pushes his further into you, reaching that soft spongy center in your sex. He curses out, learning to tower over you. Snaking a hand underneath your thigh to cradle the soft skin, sneaking his lips to meet the crook in your neck. His tongue tracing a line up to your ear, taking your ear lobe between his teeth. Rocking his hips into you, setting a steady pace and leaving you to chant his name like. hymn. “So … fuckin’ … good.” Each thrust kept tightening the warm coil in your core, getting ready to snap. 

“Yes, fuck … Lo, please … don’t stop.” The pathetic plea left your lips barely audible. “I hear you baby, you wanna come on my cock?” He brings his head out from the crook of your neck. His forehead meeting yours, leaving your chest heaving, you hand snaking from the back of his neck to his messy chocolate brown hair. His pace quickens, causing your mouth to fall, Logan looks at you with those determined eyes. “Come on baby, come for me,” His cock was nearly hitting your cervix, your brain became foggy, he was fucking you stupid, you could see the stars, the coil in your stomach would grow tighter and tighter. “You can do it baby, go ahead.” Logan’s soft words fell into your ears. “Oh my god, fuck fuck, Logan! Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming!” Your legs shook around Logan’s waist, your chest trying to find all the air to breathe in.

You tried to find any to say anything, but all of your words came out as mumbles, barely comprehensible. A smirk curled up amongst Logan’s lips. “Look at you baby, such a good girl.” His lips came very close to grazing yours. “So good for me." He places a kiss on the top of your forehead. Your legs fell on the bed, feeling more like jelly rather than bone and flesh. "You okay?" Logan asks, laying next to you, covering the both of your bodies' lower halves. Turning your head to look into his hazel-green eyes. Sighing out, "Yes."

"Let's get cleaned up for the night huh, bub? You should stay with me tonight." He began to sit up, your eyes tracing over every muscle along his back. "I am your wife after all, Lo." You sit up with him, going in to kiss him on the cheek. "Might just have to make your my real wife." The amount of oxytocin flowing through the both of your brains could wake up a tiny village but both you and Logan ended the night tangled in each other's bodies, fitting into each other perfectly.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

the end

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

[otterly-darling]

First Heartbreak

‘I’m sorry, Sirius, but I can’t.’

The room felt cold, icy even, the chill clawing its way into Sirius’ heart.

‘Not even for me?’ he asked on a whisper. ‘You won’t change your mind even for me?’

Remus shook his head and looked away. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

‘If you’d just let me-‘

‘Stop! Sirius, we’ve been through this. I won’t do it.’

Sirius stomped his foot. ‘I can’t believe that I’m only finding out now that my boyfriend thinks that The Rolling Stones are better than Led Zeplin!’

‘I like Led Zeplin! I just think that-‘

‘That the Stones are better. Yes, I know, you’ve made that perfectly clear!’

Remus rolled his eyes; fond.

‘After everything we’ve been through,’ Sirius continued, ‘You’ve finally managed to break my heart.’

‘Sad.’ Remus said with a nod. ‘Very sad.’

‘I suppose this is it then?’

‘Looks like it.’ Remus patted Sirius’ head as he picked up his bag. ‘Have a good day at work sweetheart.’

‘I will try. But it won’t be easy.’ Sirius slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Love you, you Rolling Stones loving monster.’

‘Love you too, Padfoot.’

@wolfstarmicrofic

[c-cobweb]

Hiii

So I have a request for doctor!charlie Mayhew x sexworker/pornactress!f.reader (only if your comfortable with this ofc) and reader often hang out with other colleagues on the back of the hospital and Charlie see them times to times but one day he found her on a porn site and became a little more friendly with her to have what he wants but she is just doing it for work.I’m so sorry I know it’s not really good explain English is not my first language 😭😭🙏

Love kiss kiss 💗💗🫶

𝓢ex favours ⋮ doctor charlie mayhew

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mdni!, smut, doctor!charlie mayhew x pornstar!reader, mentions of male masturbation, dirty talk, p i v, kinda dom!reader, car sex. a/n ᯓ english is not my first language! also tysm for all the love to my last work, i love y’all🫶

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

You said goodbye to your coworkers once you were dressed up and left the small recording studio.

The building in which that small recording studio was located was near the city hospital, so you went to the back of the hospital and lit a cigarette. Waiting for your taxi to arrive.

Several metres from you was Doctor Charlie, it was not the first time he saw you — rather he was watching you —, but you never paid much attention to him. Your face was familiar to him and he was sure he knew you from somewhere, but he never knew where.

Later that day, Charlie arrived home; exhausted from his long day at the hospital. After dinner and changing into more comfortable clothes, he grabbed his laptop and sat on the bed. He quickly went into incognito mode and then to his favourite website.

He was looking for the perfect video for a while until he saw it, he saw you. The miniature showed your face in close-up and the beginning of your perfect tits gathered in a lace bra.

Charlie didn't take long to take his semi-hard cock out of his sweatpants and began to caress it as he played the video.

. . .

The next day Charlie was waiting for you at the back of the hospital, as always. You wore a simple outfit, a tight tank top that slightly showed your pink bra and dark jeans shorts.

Before you could take a cigarette out of your purse, Doctor Charlie approached you and offered you one. “Do you want a cigarette?” He asked with his eyebrows slightly raised.

You looked at him from top to bottom, evaluating his physique. You could tell that he exercised because of his muscles, but his hair was thrown back and his all-black outfit betrayed him that maybe he was working in the hospital.

You shrugged before answering and grabbed a cigarette from the package that that attractive stranger offered you, “Okay, thank you” Before you could take your lighter he was already offering you his.

“May I?” He said bringing his hand with the lighter to your face as soon as you put the cigarette between your lips. You just nodded your head.

While he lit your cigarette, his eyes did not move away from yours, and when he saw that you did not look away, he smiled sideways.

“I’m Charlie, Charlie Mayhew” He finally introduced himself while leaning against the wall next to you.

After expelling the smoke from the first pout you took, you also introduced yourself, after an uncomfortable silence Charlie spoke again. “You know, your face is familiar to me, could it be that I've seen you around here before?” He played dumb, as if he didn't really know where he knows you from.

You smiled to yourself and let out a small laugh. “Oh, really? Yeah, maybe you've seen me around here before...” You replied by following the game. “I bet that you are a doctor” You guessed while inhaling your cigarette again.

“Exactly, I work in this same hospital,” he said referring to the building behind you. “And you, what do you do for work?” He asked innocently, running through your body with his gaze, appreciating your curves.

You snorse sarcastically, moving the cigarette away from your lips to be able to talk. “I think you know perfectly what I work for” You looked at him from your position with a playful smile.

“Yes, I may know,” Charlie replied, crossing his arms over his broad chest and lowered his head a little to look at your face.

“Be honest, Doctor Mayhew. What do you want?” You were sincere, you knew that that man wanted more than a simple friendship. “I know from experience that men who treat you well don't always have good intentions”

“You think you're very smart, don't you?ñ He let out a low laugh. “What do you think is what I want you?”

“Sex,” You whispered throwing the cigarette smoke on his face and then throwing it to the floor and stepping on it with the sole of your shoe. “Why do you think I should have sex with you?”

“Well; I'm tall, handsome, smart, I have a good job...” He began to list with his fingers. “And if none of that convinces you, I can pay you”

“God, no! I'm a pornstar, not a prostitute” You said giving her a bad look, but quickly your attitude went back to the way it was before. “But you're right, you're well built...”

Charlie was surprised when you grabbed his hand with yours and gave him a slight squeeze. “Let's go to your car”

Without asking questions, the man began to walk, taking you with him until you arrived at a gray car.

He opened the car with the key and pretended to open the pilot's door, but you stopped him by pulling his hand towards the back of the car.

You made him enter the back seats of the car first and then go up and sit on his lap, straddling him. Once you closed the car door from the inside and then brought your face closer to Charlie's and whispered on his lips “Kiss me”.

Doctor Mayhew didn't take long to obey your orders, joining your lips with his in a heated kiss. His tongue immediately made its way to enter your mouth while his hands walked along your thighs, then to your hips and finally to your waist, where the edge of your shirt unhook. “Can I?” He said slightly stretching from the garment.

You didn't let him do it because you immediately took your shirt over your head and threw it on the floor of the car and then unbuttoned your bra.

Charlie's eyes went straight to your breasts, admiring the beautiful shape they had “You don’t know how many times I touched myself looking at these tits”. His hands took them in and with his thumbs he traced circles around your nipples. “Don’t tease,” You demanded with a firm voice as you began to move your hips on his, brushing your crotch.

You intertwined your fingers with his hair and pulled him to have access to his neck. Quickly your lips went to his pulse point, sucking and kissing it, your actions made the doctor growl and moan under his breath.

His hands continued to massage your breasts and poke the nipples between his index fingers and thumbs, making you moan against his neck. Your hands were slowly going down from his shoulders to his chest and then to the waist of his pants, unbuttoning the belt and putting your hand in his boxers without warning.

While you massaged his member inside his clothes, he unbuttoned your shorts, lowering them down your thighs until they were on the floor of the car next to your shirt.

“Are you ready?” You asked with a cocky smile, taking his cock out of the confines of his clothes.

“Fuck, I’m more than ready, baby.” Charlie replied by pushing your panties to the side to expose your dripping centre.

Before putting him inside you, you spat on his member for more lubrication, giving him a couple more caresses until you finally went down on him. Charlie threw his head back and closed his eyes while growling, instead, you were already starting to move your hips from front to back in a torturous way.

His hands went to your hips to make you start moving up and down, bounceing on him. You rested your chest on his and arched your back to get a deeper angle, that way his cock touched all the right places inside you.

“Is this what you wanted?” You asked purring in his ear, starting to move faster.

“Yes, fuck, yes” He said moaning and growling. His hands went down to your ass to squeeze it and guide your movements. “I've fantasised so many times about fucking you...”

You smiled playfully and whispered again “It looks rather like I'm the one who's fucking you.” You left a sensual kiss on his cheek, guiding your lips to his neck again.

“You’re a bad woman,” He growled, complaining about your actions.

“Yeah, I’m bad, but you are enjoying it” You answered as you stepped back, resting your hands on his knees behind you.

In the new position you were in you could grab more impulse, so you began to move more agilely on Charlie.

You felt how his cock twitched inside you and how his breathing became more agitated, a sign that he was about to come. “Are you going to cum now?”

Doctor Mayhew could only nod his head and let out a small whine, he was desperate to reach climax.

But you didn't allow him yet, since you took his dick out of your pussy just when he was about to cum. “What are you doing?” He complained.

You began to massage his member as at the beginning, Charlie looked at you pleased but confused. “Do you really think I'm going to let you cum inside me?”

He licked his lips settling better in the seat to give you more access to his hard cock. “At least let me make you feel good too,” He whispered and then took his hand to your wet pussy.

And so you both started masturbating the other. Your hand went up and down on his dick, occasionally caressing the tip with your thumb. And Charlie caressed your clit while two of his fingers were immersed in your wet centre.

The doctor was the first to finish, doing it on your hand. His chest rose and fell quickly and his head was thrown back. His fingers, motionless inside you, but he didn't take them out of you.

You began to move your hips again, fucking yourself with his long digits. Seconds later you came on them.

You were both still, trying to regulate your breathing. After coming down from the cloud you were in, you began to pick up your clothes from the floor to put them on, also taking a handkerchief out of your bag to clean your hand.

“Well, thanks for the quickie.” You said once you were presentable and you opened the car door to leave.

“Wait,” He said grabbing your wrist. “Let me drive you home”

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

mlist , bots

taglist: @dzsr77 , @nicholaschavezbby , @hoffmansgirl , @nicholaschavezslut69

 c-cobweb 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[tsuutarr]

Sooo about mulsu-

Do you do anything nsfw requests? If not that’s totally fine but if you can. Would he be rough? Or gentle with his darling during the act? Or maybe both or in between. Wait does he even have any parts like that?

I’m obsessed with this guy don’t mind me

(Also did you know Sea bass are able to preform bidirectional gender switch? Which is when they can switch between male and female multiple times in their life! I thought it was pretty interesting…does mulsu work like that since he is..You know what ignore my bisexual ass I’m to freaky 😭)

I do take nsfw requests! They just take a tad longer because I need to be in the mood to write nsfw haha

Here are some old nsfw HCs I did for Mulsu~ I'll answer the ask itself down below:

Mulsu isn't usually horny unless he's in heat, so he's a pretty flexible lover! He can be gentle or rough based on your preferences. His main priority is making sure you're feeling content and satisfied, after all~

However, when he's in heat, he becomes extremely clingy, possessive, and quite rough. "You're taking me so well," he'd coo, while he bullies his thick cocks into you. Your face flush with pleasure spurs him on even further, his primal instincts driving his motions. He only stops fucking you when his heat ends, which will then lead to him making sure you're taken care of after you've been so good for him.

He's an aftercare king -- he'll feed you, give you water, help clean up, and then wrap you up in warm blankets (that are kept fluffy with magic). He'll make sure you have everything you want and sleep soundly~

Also, yes, he does have a dick! He has twins dicks, in fact. They're long and thick like his tongue.

And, theoretically, he's a god, so he can change his sex! He just prefers his male form and will most likely stay in it. He could be convinced to showcase his female form too, though, as a treat~

[pearlofthewoods]

Spuffy band-fic ramblings (long-post)

I think about this scene so frequently because…"Well, I sing.” 

Yes, of course he does. That man was a poet, he could write such gorgeous lyrics, and no one can tell me Spike wasn’t an active part of the rock scene in the 70s.

Honestly, a whole Spuffy band fic has been marinating in my brain for like a good 6 months now, (like seriously, it even has its own playlist, that’s when u know it’s getting real)… but since I’m only a baby writer I wanna get some writing practise in before I embark on the project, so that I can do it justice. 

However as I literally cannot keep these thoughts to myself, allow me to invite you into my brain for a while. 

(Be warned I'm basically spoiling half the plot of a future fic under the cut so scroll away if u only wanna read it when, or if, it gets written.)

So in my fic idea, there’s a huge underground vampire music scene (particularly in LA), since because vampires are immortal, they’ve lived through so many different eras of music that they have a really deep understanding of music history. They’ve seen so many famous bands live etc (which obviously is one of the few human experiences open to vampires, since so many gigs take place at night and are tied to nightlife culture). 

I’d also say that since vampires have no need to work, if they can get their hands on instruments they'd have plenty of time to practise/dedicate themselves to the craft. 

One head-canon that I have comes from the idea that Billy Idol “stole Spike’s look” from him. What if he stole something else too?

Bear with me here. 

Vampires don’t age, so they could never risk becoming famous in the human world, since people would very quickly notice that they weren’t human. Vampires need to keep a relatively low profile. They also can’t really make money easily from music by playing for other vamps, cause it’s quite unlikely the vampire scene has much money flowing around. Why would it? Everyone can just steal/mug to get what they need.

So in the vampire music world, they’d mostly just be playing for each other to stave off the boredom of eternal life, but with no worries about finances or putting food on the table. 

And dear God that music would be experimental, with none of the usual restraints of human life.

Like I think their music would be very interesting/ outside the mainstream. Perhaps they’d play stuff from entirely different decades which had completely gone out of style, but not amongst vampires who never aged/got uncool (unlike the humans who played it)….

Vampires would also have so many different first-hand musical influences that they’d create the most weird and wonderful sounds. Think Spike’s Victorian musical upbringing mixed with jazz mixed with rock, mixed with… well, you get the picture.

And tbh I think some people would try and capitalise on that, on that raw vitality. Perhaps there’s a demon who records demos secretly in the crowd or steals entire songs and sends them to someone in the know in the music industry. And since vampires don’t exactly have passports, social security numbers or any real documented presence at all, there’s nothing they can do about it. Like what if, in this fictional world, Billy Idol didn’t just steal Spike’s look, but his music too? Frankly, it'd explain the resentment.

Anyway, in my head Spike hasn’t played music for a while, he took a break to look after Drusilla and then got wrapped up in the scoobies and their shenanigans. 

But after Buffy dies? He needs somewhere to put all those emotions. He needs to write goddamn it, he hasn’t felt heartbreak like this for a long, long time. He’s not used to death, he doesn’t know how to deal with it. No vampire does.

So when he’s drinking away the pain in Willy’s one night, some demons he used to know are down from LA and offer him an open spot to sing with them at a new demon club. Spike’s about to turn it down, but they tell him things have changed. Like Wolfram and Hart, demons are all in business now, and this new club will pay.

Spike doesn’t need money… but Dawn does. Tara and Willow won’t tell him anything, (they don’t want to be put in the moral position of whether to accept mugging-proceeds from Spike), but he knows that finances are tight. And this is something he can do for Dawn, and in a way… for Buffy.

So Spike joins a band!

I think he’s probably pretty famous from his past in the 70s vamp rock scene, but this time he wants to change up the music genre. He wants a fresh start. It’s the nineties goddamn it, and he’s certainly not the same vampire he was twenty years ago. He’ll play, but he’ll play on his terms. 

I imagine his newer music to basically be Jeff Buckley’s (my fave 90s musician), which I know might seem a bit melancholy for Spike, but with his current grief, it feels quite appropriate.

Tbh since I basically know nothing about music and can’t even imagine lyrics for toffee, I'd probably even just give him Jeff’s discography and call it a day. It’s fanfic I can do what I like. Grace? Spike wrote it. Job done. 

For example, the lyrics to “Opened Once”?

"In the half-light where we both stand

In the half-light you saw me as I am

I am a railroad track abandoned

With the sunset forgetting I ever happened

That I ever happened"

Half-light = the twilight, the safest time of day for vampires (to quote Edward Cullen, sorry lol). also a metaphor for the place between the vamp world and the human world. A place where Buffy and Spike "both stand", as she’s the slayer and he’s a vampire that can’t hurt people.

‘You saw me as I am’ - After Buffy's resurrection, Spike’s the only person who truly understands what she’s been through, and the experience of crawling out of your own grave. They meet each other where they are.

‘Railroad track’ - ‘railroad spike’. Railroad is a pretty unusual and archaic way of phrasing that word. At least where I’m from. ‘Railroad spike’ is too good of a coincidence. 

‘Sunset forgetting I ever happened’ - Spike doesn’t get to live in the daylight. the sun (and the sunset) are both out of reach for him without the danger of dusting. He doesn’t fully feel like a true vampire anymore, but the human world won’t accept him either. In fact, his human life was so long ago that even the sun itself has forgotten William Pratt.

I also think Spike/ Jeff Buckley is a fitting parallel  since, if I stick to major-canon events, Jeff’s unfortunate passing very early in his career would also fit roughly timewise with Spike’s death at the end of season 7. 

The last unfinished album that Jeff struggled so hard to write? The one Spike wrote when he was getting over his ensoulment and entirely reevaluating who he is, and what that means for his music.

Unfinished final album? Yes. Unpublished? No. 

Because when he accepted wearing that amulet, Spike had a pretty good idea he was going to die. So he did something a vampire never plans to do. He wrote a will. 

If he’s dead, there’s no more worries about fame exposing his immortality right? So his music is published posthumously in the human world (with some bullshit about his talent going undiscovered by the industry during life).

And combined, the proceeds pay for Dawn’s college bills, and lift all of Buffy’s financial worries from her shoulders. 

In the end, that’s Spike’s last gift to Buffy, his music, his poetry…and it finally allows her to rest. 

[mission-light-if]

Mission Light - Update 08.01.2025

Hey, it’s me again after a long time. Happy New Year, by the way!

A lot has happened—uni started again and I had a writer’s block throughout November and part of December. I’m way behind where I wanted to be, but things finally getting better. I’m almost finished with the prologue now. I had planned to release the second part in October, but here we are. It took longer than I wanted, but oh well.

I plan to be more active here in 2025 and write more, even though it’s going to be a busy year for me.

I always plan too big and end up overwhelmed by my ideas and tasks, which causes me to freeze and do nothing. So, I cleaned up my ideas and to-do list for the story and cut some things. It would have been cool to include them but I’m just one person and the prologue is already way bigger than I expected—160,000 words (including code, with some repeated passages, so it’s not really 160,000, but that’s what Twine says).

I had to compromise. Maybe that’s why the prologue seems a bit messy to me right now, but I’m working on cleaning it up and improving it.

I’ve decided not to promise release dates anymore because I often can’t meet them. Chapters, updates and content will come when they’re ready. However, some of you might have noticed that I updated my Tumblr blog and the itch.io game site.

I’ve realized that I get frustrated or hit writer’s block when I don’t immediately feel a sense of success, probably due to my ADHD. Sometimes, I get so frustrated that I want to abandon the whole project. But each time, I get mad at myself because I want to prove that I can finish something—that I can finish this and stay consistent without changing my interests and projects every week.

To help with that, I’m considering weekly updates on my progress in 2025. It won’t be much—maybe a few hundred/thousand words per week—but it might help me staying motivated. I would still make bigger announcement posts when a chapter is complete, so that those who prefer to read completed/finished chapters can wait for that. But we’ll see how it goes.

I’ve also done more character art and CGs and I’ve updated my art style. I’ll be posting those in the future. I also plan to write some short stories or prompts. I know I haven’t been consistent in answering questions, but please send them if you have any—it really helps me stay motivated when people engage with my work.

That’s it for now. Thanks for reading, and thank you so much.

Take care,

Jakob (yes, I changed my name, haha)

[kcalsforhim]

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ thursday 9 jan 2025

༄.°

i woke up in the worst state someone could find me in LOL. i can’t recall much except feeling so fucking terrible ;; i did go to college and haku didn’t go to college so i was all alone

2 sugar free red bulls

2 sugar free coca cola oreo

in class for the first half i worked on a drawing for college then on the second half i talked with my classmates to make sure i could actually be included in the second half of the group project pretty please. i had a lot of cool ideas and that is a lot of fun im excited for that

then when i was walking home my mom sends me a text, she got called by a number and she’s asking me who it is. i checked and the number called me too

earlier in the day i sent my mental health coordinator at college that i wanted to commit suicide on new years and i ended up not doing it, and that im just kind of lost now ;; and she started panicking and called me

we had a nice conversation on the phone about a new special trajectory for me so that i can calm down and obviously get extra help and bla bla. this has been weighing on me for like.. ever since i started college again, but mostly since start of november, that’s also when i started binge eating.. or well, it started developing.

afterwards i just started to stress and i wanted to binge, it was a good convo, but i wanted to eat everything in sight. instead i went to the shops to spend money there instead since another one of my comforts is shopping. (yeah i know lots of bad comforts)

i went to miniso and got lots of kuromi stuff, bottles and lunch box that’s tiny and even a hair straightener ; then i went to primark and bought a pair of sweatpants and a kuromi hoodie and pyjamas and more kuromi stuff. i also went online and ordered a pair of pants. yes i went crazy.

however, i got no food. when i got to my local train station i began my walk home and my knees wobbled and i just kind of half fell on the floor, i was so exhausted and it was. cold. icy cold. i called my friend and asked him to get me

he did and he was deadass pale like a ghost. he had to hold onto me when we got me some groceries so i could eat. he even pulled out of his savings to have enough for what i wanted to eat

he got me cigarettes and got me everything i wanted, just ingredients for a dish. he held me when i felt my legs giving out lol, he took me home and he gave me the longest hug ever and asked me to keep safe, i told him i would try

a pokebowl containing salad mix, spicy mayonnaise, edamame beans, half of an avocado, carrot shavings, cucumber cubes, shrimp and salmon.

4 courgette hashbrowns / cakes

3 medjoul dates

1 protein yogurt

i didn’t count my cals cause i knew if i didn’t eat something properly i would and will binge eat everything and i was feeling really emotional so i would rather eat salad and salmon than a big thing of cookies… im just saying… 3 dates instead of 1 for the same reasoning

its pathetic but i did half all of the ingredients at the very least, half the avocado, half the salmon, half the shrimp, ect ect. i made my mom a small bowl to eat out of too and that’s where the extra meat went (i ate similar meal today too)

i wanted to eat more and more and more afterwards but i ended up not doing it dont worry. i just chewed a lot of gum to get my jaw moving and active so that i wouldn’t go downstairs to chew on something else yk ?

i am relieved things in my life will change though, i’m relieved. telling everyone in my life i wanted to be gone on new years stressed me the fuck out

fitting for how i felt yesterday, i listened to it a lot that day too… it just resonates with me, you know ?

𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡ stats for today

streak : 4 days binge free, thank god

cals : n.v.t

steps : 15.2 k

overall today went shit in well, EVERY regard, not just food. im cutting myself a little slack. the next day; so today as im writing this, i did eat the leftovers but only because my friend pulled from his savings for me to be able to eat something i find comfort in. my favourite restaurant is closed, so i have to make their dish from my own memory. i hope you guys understand but im ready to feel terrible by the next day (11th)

༄.°