#and the other one would break the world apart just to find you again in one of its crevices

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.04.24)

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanfiction

[danytar]

“Meet me at the highest heaven” [ King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader ]

Warnings: anxiety, aegon is going to Rook's Rest,Incest, mention of war and death, No use of y/n, swearing,(m receiving),erotic lactation.

Summary: Aegon is going to the battle. And now you feel like your heart will be torn apart at any moment. Will you be able to say goodbye to him?

'The true king is the king who leads his battles himself' The famous quote in the world. Which you've heard hundreds of times. But you did not think that your husband would apply the phrase himself. You are still in pain over the murder of your eldest son.

You still haven't forgotten what happened.. You still haven't forgotten how you lost two children in one night. It was like a nightmare.. you hoped you would wake up soon and find yourself in bed with your husband. as a prince and princess.

The weight of your titles weighs heavily on your shoulders. You hoped it was a joke or something but it never was.. Your husband has already entered the game of thrones and getting out of that game is not as easy as entering it.

You were in your room, combing your silver locks, lost in your thoughts then you heard your doors open and there was the new hand of the king. “My queen”. His voice was polite and firm.

“Yes sir criston? ”. You let the comb from your hand and turned to see him standing there close to the big door of your chambers. “His grace requested your presence in his own chambers”. he replied to you.

You nodded and got up from your chair to leave the room. The knight led the way for your husband's chambers. you can't help but feel worry about what will happen next.You don't know what's causing this feeling, but you ignore it for now at least.

The guard opened the door for you and stopped outside the room. You entered the room and your gaze fell directly on him he was standing there in full armor. You swallow and take steps closer to him.

He looked at you and didn't speak yet. There was a silent moment between you two, just letting your eyes speak for you. He meets you with a warm smile on his lips you couldn't help but feel small tears wet your cheeks.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you don't let him but you rushe to him and embraces him hardly. The feel of steel on your skin doesn't bother you at all.He hugged you back he moved your hair away from your bare shoulders and placed his head there to inhale your scent.

One of his hands was gently stroking your hair and the other was tight around you. He broke the silence between you two with a little joke to lighten the mood “Is my queen trying to seduce me with this dress now?” He cocked his head and looked at you with a smile.

You wiped your eyes and chuckled softly “Shut up”. he chuckled with you then he wiped away the remnants of your tears and looked into your eyes.

“Don't cry my queen I won't leave you alone in this world I swear”. He lifted your chin with his thumb so you could look at him. He can see the coming tears from your eyes So he presses a kiss between your eyebrows.

“Do you really have to go?”. The words escaped your trembling lips. You cannot afford another loss and it's not any loss A piece of you. “I'm afraid I do, my love it's my duty to protect my kingdoms...to protect you”.

He tucked your silver locks behind your ears and looked at your eyes sweetly. He may be a king but your tears make him the weakest thing you could ever imagine. He hugged you to his chest again and his arms caress your shoulders and your bare back.

“I want to go with you”. You break the hug and look at him. He cups your cheeks and sighs “No, you will stay here I won't let my queen go the battle”.

“Aegon-” He interrupts you and places his thumb on your lips “No objections You're not going anywhere”. He looked at you in the eye and spoke softly. He was serious, he didn't want to put his wife in danger.

You pulled away from him and turned to give him your back. He sighed at your stubbornness and spoke in a sweet, low tone “Is this how you will say goodbye to me?”.

“This is not a farewell. You will return to me against your will ”. You gently wipe away your tears with the palm of your hand. he chuckled and talked to tease you “I can't promise I'll come back alive”.

You turn around again, with a frown on your face. he chuckles when he sees your face. “This is not funny aegon! ”

He wipes away the tears of laughter and approaches you again. You try to move away again but he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him.He presses his lips to yours forcefully His kisses were desperate and intense. He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you hard.

He bit your lower lip until you opened your mouth slightly so he could insert his tongue inside. you gladly opened your mouth slightly and your tongue joined his with an elaborate dance. When he pulled away from you, you were both panting heavily.

He rested his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. You closed your eyes and sighed then you spoke in a low tone “Come back safe”. you whispered in his hear. He smiled at you and replied, “I will.” He holds you tightly and whispers into you ear, “Be strong, love, I'll be home before you know it...”He kisses your shoulder softly.

“Come back to me one piece, please”. you whispered to him.

“I promise, I'll be back..” He caresses your cheek, “You must be brave and look after yourself and our son”. He whispers to you and hugs you again, but this time his lips travel to your exposed neck and kiss you there. Your body shivers under his touch.

He sighs softly as he feels her soft skin beneath his palms “So soft..” He continues to kiss your neck, as his hands working to undress you slowly.He whispers to you and nibbles your ear “If you think you're going to seduce me like this without me doing anything to you, you're wrong my love”.

“I wasn’t planning to seduce you.” You reply with a low tone.

“Excuses...excuses ”. He lets your dress fall so he can kiss your breasts and suck your nipples. Your breasts were still producing milk because you were pregnant from little while before your tragic miscarriage.

He was still in his armor and combat uniform, but you never complained about the feel of the rough steel on your bare skin. He rose from your chest, then got up and rubbed his thumbs over your breasts.

He looked at you in the eye and smiled “Lay on the bed for me my sweet queen”. You felt a tingle of emotions hit your stomach. You did as you were told he smiled at you and knelt at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs he placed a bunch of kisses on your thighs and his tongue started messing with you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair and held your husband's face in place. He was caressing your pearl and he will nor stop until you told him to stop Maybe this was his way of saying goodbye.

♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #hotd s2 #hotd2 #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #danytar #aegon the elder #house targaryen #aegon imagine #hotd fandom #team green

[reaper2187]

Leighton murray x reader

In the hallowed halls of Essex College, a tale unfolds between two vibrant souls: Leighton Murray, the enigmatic and alluring senior, and you, the newly arrived freshman with a heart brimming with both trepidation and anticipation.

As you the campus, your senses are assailed by the vibrant tapestry of college life. Laughter echoes through the dormitories, mingling with the faint scent of coffee and the hum of laptops. It is amidst this vibrant atmosphere that you first encounter Leighton.

Tall and striking, with blonde hair that cascades over her shoulders, Leighton exudes an air of mystery. Her captivating blue eyes hold a tantalizing promise, a hint of untold experiences that pique your curiosity. An older student, she moves with an assured confidence that you find both intoxicating and intimidating.

As fate would have it, your paths cross again and again. In the crowded hallways of the library, you steal furtive glances at her as she pores over textbooks, her lips parted slightly in concentration. At a raucous party, you find yourself drawn to her laughter, a melody that cuts through the din like a silver bell.

One evening, as you sit alone in the common room, lost in a book, Leighton approaches you. With a warm smile, she breaks the ice and introduces herself. As you talk, you discover that beneath her enigmatic exterior lies a complex and intelligent woman. You are captivated by her insights, her quick wit, and the way her eyes seem to sparkle with a mischievous glint.

As the hours turn into a languid summer night, you find yourself drawn to Leighton's alluring charm. Your fingers brush against hers as you reach for a shared book, and electricity courses through your body. In that moment, you know that something profound has sparked between you.

In the weeks that follow, you and Leighton spend countless hours together. You explore the hidden nooks of the campus, from the  library to the  gardens. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, as you learn the intricacies of each other's desires and secrets.

Leighton's embrace is warm and inviting, her touch like a feather on your skin. Her kisses ignite a fire within you that consumes all inhibition. As you lie entangled in her arms, you feel a sense of liberation and fulfillment like never before.

However, the world outside of your private paradise threatens to tear you apart. Society's judgment looms over you like a dark cloud, whispering that your love is forbidden. But you refuse to be silenced.

Together, you navigate the choppy waters of college life, facing both adversity and triumphs with unwavering determination. You become each other's strength, a beacon of hope in a world that often tries to extinguish your flames.

In the tapestry of your life, Leighton Murray becomes more than just a lover. She is your confidant, your ally, and the catalyst for a profound transformation within yourself. As you graduate from Essex College, you carry with you the memories of your passionate love, a testament to the enduring power of human connection.

And so, as the pages of your life turn and you venture into the wider world, a piece of Leighton will always linger in your heart, a bittersweet reminder of a love that burned bright against the backdrop of youth and collegiate freedom.

#wlw #lesbian #wlw post #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #renee rapp x fem!reader #reneè rapp x reader #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #the sex lives of college girls #tslocg

[littlemsshoney]

Insatiable Hunger

Hannibal Lecter × patient!reader

Warnings: unhealthy dynamics, obssesive relationship, slight stalking, Hannibal bring emotionally manipulative dunno

(first time writing about hannibal, kinda nervous be aware)

At first you were just another patient, a potential pawn or a future extravagant dinner he would enjoy some Friday night. Another lost and troubled soul that was unfortunate enough to find him.

However his interest grew like a forest fire, a burning insatiable hunger consumed him more and more with each one of your sessions.

There was something about you that caught his eye. The way you talked, the way you carried yourself.

He started taking notes of every little detail of your life and with some research of his own he soon knew every aspect of your life. Where you live, where you work, who your friends are, which cafe you spend your Saturday morning everything in.

He knew that he should feel bad for crossing such a line between a therapist and a patient but he didn’t really. After all, it wasn't that hard. With your social media your life was practically an open book for everyone to read and enjoy and if he didn’t then he was sure someone else did.

Only the thought made him angry. It wasn’t about your safety but more about his hurt ego. He had his eye on you, no one else should change that and he should make it known.

Of course he had always been a fan of traditional courting so don’t be confused when you start bumping into him in the most random places at some point with the excuse of cheering you up even being invited to one of his glamorous dinner parties. All of those situations you tried to avoid and refuse gracefully, not because of being aware of his true intentions but rather because you knew there was a thin line you shouldn’t cross.

So you didn't leave him any other way. He truly wanted to be gentle and kind with you and treat you like the precious, vulnerable creature you were in his mind but you just won’t have it the easy way, will you?

The thought of being patient- one of the tarits he awlways took pride on- now felt like a real torture. He wanted to consume you whole. There was something about you that reflected some part of him, an unknown familiarity of your pain. He wanted to break you down, then pick up your parts and build you up. Then do it all over again.

Your sessions were heavy at least. Raw honesty from your part and emotional manipulation from his all to serve the creation of an intense bond, a codependent relationship.

Your wellbeing and mental health had turned into a chess game and the game was anything but fair. In less than two months your whole well being was hanging from a thread and only he could help you or tear you apart.

One can only imagine the sadistic pleasure he took from your vulnerability and pain. Comfortably he sat at his armchair watching as you fell apart in front of him each week feeling worse and worse. All he had to do was just watch and enjoy, proud of his creation.

In his free time he recalled how beautifully you cried, so broken and desperate for him to fix you but all he wanted was lick your tears and take you in. He imagined you being under him, crying - from pleasure - his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.

Soon he had you feeling as if the whole world had turned against you. You couldn’t even trust your own judgement, you had cut ties with most of your friends -Dr Lecter advised you that none of them were genuine-you had become more and more isolated, you felt like you’re turning paranoid.

And then the final act of his play

“I’m really sorry I didn’t know where else to go” and like clockwork you deliberately walked onto his trap, basically sealing your own fate. All he had to do now is hold his door wide open for you to come in.

And then checkmate. That eventful evening standing on the doorstep of the only person you thought truly cared about you. He let you in and like a wounded bird he took you into his arms with such generosity and kindness in contrast to everyone else in your life. The irony.

“It will all be alright”

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him for dear life, holding onto the only person that seems to understand you and actually wants to help you. As you cry on his shoulder he rests his chin on your head and gently caresses your hair.

Despite your persistence to resist him you are finally giving in. He kisses the crown of your head and though you know it is wrong you let him. You would let him do anything to keep him and he knows it.

Frozen in place you close your eyes as he kisses your forehead, then your eyes and cheek. You know what comes next yet you do not pull away, you don't resist what’s inevitable. A second passes and he doesn’t move, you open your eyes to see him staring at your lips. Now you know you want it, you feel his hunger as your own and you’re starving for it.

Grabbing him by his expensive tie you kiss him, not gently as he did but with desperation and need to be seen and understood.

Pleased he lets you have control just this once for the rest of your time together. He knew you would soon come to realise it’s only him you ever needed.

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal #yandare hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal imagine

[cerise-on-top]

how long do you think it takes Kate and Valeria to day ‘I love you’ to their s/o’s? love ur stuff fyi!!! 💚

Hello! Thank you for liking my stuff, I hope this is enjoyable to you as well! I think it would take the both of them quite a while to say it!

When do Valeria and Laswell Finally Say “I Love You”?

Valeria: It would take her a while to say it. I mean, once she’s with you, she’s already smitten, but she says “I love you” in different ways that aren’t just saying those three words. Valeria courts you with lots of gifts, that much is true, but the closest thing you’ll ever hear from her that resembles a “You have my heart, I love you more than the sun loves the moon, than the ocean loves the land” would be her spending a day with you where she isn’t spending copious amounts of money on you. But that’s not what you asked. Valeria will tell you that she loves you when you’re feeling insecure since she never says it, but on her own accord? It would likely be a year or longer into your relationship, on one of those nights where the two of you are lying in bed together, just talking about your lives, what you’ve been through and how it’s shaped you as people. Just venting your worries, voicing your appreciation for each other and how you’ve helped one another. It’s during such a night, when you’ve gone quiet for a moment, that Valeria would hold you close and tell you, in a voice softer than what you’re used to normally from her, that she loves you.

Laswell: Like Valeria, she shows her love for you through different means. While she may be a gift giver as well, she also shows you how much she loves you by doing anything you may or may not ask of her. From chores, to walking your pet, to cooking you some stew when you’re sick. Laswell doesn’t say that she loves you from the get go either, it would take her several months to a year for her to say it. But when she does, it doesn’t seem like a special moment to anyone else. You’re probably hanging up your freshly washed clothes while she’s sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in hand. Laswell would get up, give you a kiss on your cheek, and tell you that she loves you so very dearly. She was overcome with adoration for you during that moment and needed to show you that she loves you. It’s afterwards that you get a lot more I love yous from her. Not on the daily still, but they would be more common. She will always, and I mean always, accompany her I love yous with some form of affectionate gesture, regardless of whether it be a kiss to your temple, a hug from behind, or a small lovely rose she found in a flower shop. You will always be taken care of and loved.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #neither of them are too vocal when it comes to showing they love you but that's alright too #because one of them would watch the world burn down to warm you up with its flames #and the other one would break the world apart just to find you again in one of its crevices #they're not the most romantic people verbally but they'll always make sure that you feel loved and cared for #writing about the girls really makes me yearn for a girlfriend again!! where is my gf!!! I want one!!! #it's so sad that I've never met another lesbian irl either 😔 that is so sad I deserve a cute girl to hug in return for that #the yearning has been especially strong again as of late. especially since I saw a commission again yesterday #now I wish Valeria was way taller than me so she would look hot while looking down at me. but alas she's probably the same height as me #no amount of cute gir's love manga could ever cure my yearning I feel as though it's terminal 😔 #will I continue to be cringe in the tags? absolutely! I've got another request for one of the girls. a really fun one too #looking forward to writing that one! #I'm gonna post three times today so I can get out all the requests again and be left to me imagining giving a cute girl a hug

[scuderiahoney]

Ache

Oscar Piastri x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: Leaving you behind makes Oscar’s chest hurt. Sometimes coming home is just as hard. Word Count: 1.9k

a/n: Remember a while ago when I threatened promised Oscar angst? I finally followed through.

Warnings: angst, sexual content minors do not interact!, cockwarming (who am I?)

Oscar stumbles into the apartment as quietly as he can. It’s nearing 3am, and the entire world is asleep, including you. He’s careful with his suitcase, opting to carry it instead of rolling it, trying his best to not make any noise. Somehow, though, when he looks up, he finds you standing in the hallway.

You’re in one of his hoodies, the sleeves hanging over your hands. He’s pretty sure you’re wearing his sweatpants, too, just based on the way they hang low and loose on your hips. He catches sight of a pair of soft pink panties beneath that, ones that would have him absolutely drooling in any other situation. Your hair is a mess, and he winces at the sleepy look on your face.

“You waited up,” he says with a sigh.

You nod and rub at one of your eyes as you fight a yawn. “Missed you.”

Something in his heart breaks at the raw sound of your voice. He knows if he looked hard enough he’d find tear tracks on your cheeks. They’d be his to take the blame for. He left four days ago as you held onto his arm and tried to convince him not to go. He knows you know he didn’t want to leave. That it’s his job, that he had to go. It doesn’t mean the leaving hurts any less.

Now he stands in the hallway of your shared apartment and feels the guilt all over again. He can put it out of his mind most race weekends, too busy and pumped up on adrenaline to really feel it. But he comes home exhausted and finds you like this, and it stabs him in the gut again.

“I missed you too,” he says, quietly. “More than you even understand.”

He winces when he says it, because he’s said it before and gotten varying responses. You insist that it’s easier on him, because he’s busy and having fun, and you’re at home, just waiting for him to come back. The first season of F1 has been hard on you both, an endless push and pull, tug of war. You come to the races when you can, but you have your own life. Oscar doesn’t want to take that away, but…

When he goes to bed alone, in an empty hotel room, and thinks of you on your own, too, it tears him apart.

He’s home now. For two weeks, he’s home. He’s waiting for you to make the first move. Sometimes he comes home and you fling yourself into his arms. Other times you sit on the couch and cry until you fall asleep, and then he carries you to bed. He wishes he knew what to do, how to fix it. He’s gone as far to ask Lando for advice- his teammate just smiled sadly at him, squeezed his upper arm, and admitted he was the worst person to ask.

You rub your cheek softly with your fingers. Oscar’s hand twitches. He wants to reach out and cup your face himself. The sweatpants you’re wearing slip down your hip, and you let them fall. He swallows tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re not sorry.”

His eyes flicker up to the ceiling. His head hurts, right along with his chest.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Osc,” you say. “I know you can’t change it. I just…”

He nods. “I know. I’m not sorry I was gone. But I am sorry that I hurt you so much when I leave.”

Those seem to be the magic words tonight. You stumble across the gap between the two of you and nearly tackle him with the force of your hug. He lets out a noise between a laugh and a sob. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the top of your head, breathes you in and lets the feeling wash over him. The weight of you soothes the ache in his chest just a little bit.

He starts to shuffle the two of you towards the bedroom, step by precarious step. He’s unwilling to let go of you, because he knows if he does you’ll start crying and that pain will be back in his heart. He carefully dodges the piles of clothes on the bedroom floor, and the two of you fall onto the bed with soft groans. He collapses on top of you. The weight of the world is on his shoulders. It feels better when he rests against you.

You reach up and run your hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I was such a baby when you left.”

He groans into the crook of your neck. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

He really does want to talk about it, because it hurts to leave and he knows it hurts you, too, but the way you beg him to stay makes it a million times worse. He’s torn, because he doesn’t want you to stop telling him how you feel, but the weight of your anxiety over his absence is so heavy on his chest every time.

But right now he’s here, and he’s laying on top of you, and this is all he’s wanted for days. Since the second he left the apartment, he’s been dreaming about this. He doesn’t want to ruin it with a difficult conversation.

You nod. He sighs again and rubs his nose against your jaw, presses a soft kiss to your pulse point. You sigh in response.

Daniel said it gets easier- the leaving, the distance. He also made a reference to money making it easier, to the idea that maybe eventually, you won’t feel the need to work and that you could just travel with Oscar. He wonders if that’s something you’d ever want. If you’d give up the other parts of your life, the independence, just to avoid saying goodbye. God knows he loves to have you within arms reach, attached at the hip, but he doesn’t want it to be at the cost of who you are, all the things he loves and admires about you.

He wonders if there’s a reasonable solution, a compromise in the middle, one that doesn’t leave him feeling so disconnected. The video calls aren’t enough- just a reminder of the distance when he sees the sun low in the sky in your background while he still has half a day ahead of him. The voicemails he listens to after he misses your calls sting like needle pricks on fingertips. There has to be a fix. Something he can do to make it better. He’s scared you won’t be able to go on like this forever.

The hoodie you’re wearing smells like him, but your perfume and shampoo overpower the scent. You kiss his temple and he groans at the feeling, the soft press of your lips against his skin. He pushes himself up so he can reach your lips with his. He kisses you hungrily, in a way that he hopes shows how much he aches for this every second he’s gone.

You meet him eagerly, lips insistent against his. When he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you open up for him, hands dragging down his shoulders as he sighs into your mouth. He’s exhausted, too tired to make it any good, but he still finds himself rolling his hips against yours, just to feel you, just to feel something. You laugh when he bites at your lower lip, and you wrap one leg around his waist and grind upwards in a way that makes him let out a whine.

“You’re too sleepy,” you say when you break away, even as your hand is brushing over the front of his pants.

He nods, chest heaving as he mouths at your jaw. “Mhm. But I- I wanna be close. I need-“

“Yeah,” you agree. He nips at the hinge of your jaw and you throw your head back. “Please?”

The sweatpants slip easily down your hips, barely hanging on. He tugs your panties off with exhaustion-shaky hands as you shove at his own pants. He doesn’t bother pulling them all the way off, doesn’t bother getting your hoodie off, doesn’t bother with anything other than you. He slips his fingers through the wetness between your thighs, just to make sure you're ready, and groans at the feeling, at the way you arch your hips against his hand. He can’t hold back, then, can’t wait any longer. You sigh happily when he slips the head of his cock into you, and he groans into your shoulder as he pushes all the way in.

This is coming home. This is safe and warm and right where he belongs. You’re the reason he’ll never quite feel comfortable in another country, another city, another empty hotel bed. He could cry with the way the weight falls off his shoulders, the way his headache and chest pain melt away. It’s not about sex. He doesn’t even move. He just buries himself inside you, buries his face in the curve of your neck, and breathes in.

“I miss you all the time,” he tells you, hoping he can find the right words this time, the ones that make it all okay. “Every second I’m not here.”

“I know,” you say into his shoulder. “I do, too.”

He’d carry you around in his pocket if he could. But he loves the way you light up when you talk about your friends, too, or when you tell him a story about work. He won’t ask you to change who you are for him. He just needs to find a way to fit your lives back together, in a way that makes some sort of sense. He’ll figure it out.

“We’ll figure this out,” he says, eyelids feeling heavy, lips against your skin. “You and I. We’ll figure it out.”

“I know,” you say softly.

He wonders if you believe him, or if the ache is too strong right now. He’ll believe it enough for the both of you if he has to. The two of you will figure it out. He won’t accept any other possible option.

“I love you,” you say against his temple, sleep coating your voice. “So much. And I’m so proud of you.”

The last of the tension in his body melts away. Sleep is creeping up his spine. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes- tears of exhaustion and frustration and all the emotions of coming home to you.

“I love you,” he answers, closing his eyes, teetering on the edge of sleep. “More than anything, I love you.”

He falls asleep like that, face buried in your skin, with you wrapped around him in every way possible. In the morning, when the sun rises, you brush your lips against his forehead and apologize, and promise to be nicer the next time he has to leave. He tells you the truth- that he understands, that he wishes he didn’t have to go, that he wants you there with him all the time. There’s no good solution, at least not at that moment. But for now, it’ll be enough. It has to be.

He clings to you the whole time he’s home and tries not to dread the day he has to pry himself out of your grip. Then, he tries not to imagine a day where you’re not there begging him to stay. He knows which one would be worse. So when he kisses you goodbye to head for another race, when he lets go of your hand, he decides he can live with the ache in his chest and the guilt in his gut. It’s better to hate leaving you than to not have you there to leave. It’ll get easier, eventually. He’ll figure it out. He has to.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

#oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri imagine #Oscar piastri x reader #Oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri smut #formula 1 angst #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 smut #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula one oneshot #formula one angst #formula one smut #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #f1 angst #f1 smut #x reader #op81 #honeywrites

[dabislittlemouse]

❝𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝘿𝘼𝘿𝘿𝙔’𝙎 𝘽𝙄𝙂𝙂𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙁𝘼𝙉.❞

Dabi x Endeavor fan!Reader (+18)

SYNOPSIS : Dabi finds out that his beloved pretty girl is actually an Endeavor fan. Let’s just say, he doesn’t take it lightly~

WARNINGS ‼️: yandere!Dabi , stalking, smut, humiliation, noncon, unprotected sex, Dabi uses his quirk on you, bruises/marks/abuse

A/N: this fic is dedicated to @yanderenightmare , for the Secret Santa event. I hope you enjoy this, I’m a big fan of your work and I was more than thrilled to write this for you. ♡

MASTERLIST

Two months.

That’s for how long he had been around you. At first it was just small glimpses of him on the street, quite too often on your way home, but you didn’t think of it much. Or the times when he’d casually be in the same coffee shop every morning, his jacked zipped and hood covering his face, wearing sunglasses as he stared at you from across the corner. Though he would show his face only during the nights, the beauty he radiated left you breathless, the scars and staples that decorated his face had your eyes popping out of your sockets. He intimidated you, but you couldn’t deny that he was irresistibly handsome. The raven haired man who finally approached you one day and introduced himself as Dabi, he captivated you entirely.

He had set his azure eyes on you this entire time, stalking you on your way home, learning the time when you go to work and come back, your favorite shops and bars, and he would follow you and admire you from afar. Dabi was not a man who would let such distractions mess with his life, but you…

You were a beautiful distraction.

Some fun wouldn’t hurt, right? He knew his main goal, and you were by no means a threat to his plans. How could you? Pretty little thing walking down the street with no care in the world, not knowing the danger lurking nearby, the villain chasing after you. Dabi picked on all your habits, your favorite drinks or food, the people you met, and being good at gathering information and studying people he had already set his mind to make you his. Your charming personality felt like a cure to his dark soul, your beauty was a sight for sore eyes. He was not one to know what love feels like, and he sure as hell knew that he didn’t love you. All he needed was to possess you, the fucked up part of him wanting to have you and break you, make you miserable just the way he is, only to fix you again in any shape he wanted to.

But all he needed was time, time for you to trust him and let him in your life, and once you got to know his true self, he’d never let you go.

Though what he didn’t know was your true self either. Or mostly, what you’d do behind closed doors. Dabi knew your apartment, which floor you lived in, but he didn’t break in. Yet.

And in fact, there was no need to break in. Your little naive self invited him to your home for dinner, a small gratitude since the other day he beat up two guys down the street who were following after you.

“Thank you so much Dabi.. I honestly can’t even imagine what would happen if you weren’t here!” You trembled in his arms, hugging him tight. The two thugs were laying unconscious on the ground.

“Could never leave ya unprotected, dollface” Dabi patted your back, smirking at the way you clinged to him, to your saviour. Little did you know he was in fact, worse than those thugs. After you left, Dabi went back to the beaten up thugs, almost wanting to step on them.

“W-We did as you said! Now give us the reward!” one of them shouted.

“Silence.” Dabi said sternly. “You touched her more than I actually ordered you to. Did ya really think you’d take advantage of the situation huh?”

“What are you talking about?! I swear we didn’t-”

Their talking was interrupted by the scorching heat that melted off their skins, screams of agony and death echoing in the alleyways. Dabi nonchalantly walked past their corpses, leaving behind the wretched scent of burnt flesh, one he was now too familiar with.

And now here he was, in front of you door as your cheerful face appears, letting him in.

“Mm, smells nice in here” he says, walking in your dining room. “You really look good in that apron, like a pretty little housewife. Y’really did all this for me~?”

You blush at his comment, knowing that tonight you gave it your best to cook something delicious just for him.

“Well.. yeah..as a way to thank you, enjoy yourself!”

“Oh, I will enjoy myself alright..” he grins, looking at your figure from head to toe, licking his lips.

The dinner was on the table but your sight made him salivate more than the food itself. He had the urge to tear those clothes off your body and bend you over that dining table, fucking you from behind ruthlessly. The waiting game had him edged for long enough, and Dabi had run out of patience. In one way or another, you would end up with your legs spread for him tonight. Either if you wanted it or not.

As time passed by, you both finished eating, where Dabi praised your cooking skills, claiming he’d never eat something as delicious as your homemade meal. It made you feel giddy, his compliments always making you squeal in your seat.

“Y’have a nice home” Dabi says, wandering and looking around. “Real cozy and decent compared to the shithole I live in…”

“Glad you like it, I was in fact planning to uh..” you mumble shyly. “To have a sleepover tonight.. maybe watch a movie or two..”

A sly smirk formed on Dabi’s face, because both you and him knew where all of this would lead to. He’s been waiting for this moment in anticipation, not that he couldn’t take you by force. Though he enjoyed the chase more, when you finally go willingly to him.

“Sure thing doll, sounds fun” he says. “Which one of these is your room?”

“It’s the one at the end of the corridor, on the left!” you answer, fixing the table. “Please don’t mind the mess, haven’t had much time to clean my room today”

Funny you think I’d mind some mess, Dabi thinks to himself, remembering the kind of places he had to spend his days while he was on the run. The thought of entering your room, your personal and safe sanctuary, has him a bit excited. Would it be like one of those pink girly rooms full of plushies and cute stuff? For sure he’d love to fuck your brains out while you clinged to your plushie for dear life.

A few seconds passed and you heard nothing but silence. You thought Dabi would be throwing comments here and there once he entered your room.

Then you remembered.

As embarrassment crept up your face, you left the kitchen and headed to your room. Dabi was standing there, his eyes focused on that certain Endeavor poster you had put in your wall.

“Um..okay this is awkward” you scratched your neck, laughing nervously. You didn’t talk much of your interests or your idols to other people, preferring to keep them to yourself.

“Yeah that’s Endeavor, he’s actually my favorite hero, he is really strong and inspiring. I’m a big fan of his, sometimes I like buying his merch and stuff..”

Dabi remained quiet, not saying anything in return. His silence was making you worry. His eyes shifted towards an Endeavor plushie you kept near your bed. His hands were itching, he flexed his jaw and turned towards you. He had a dark look in his eyes, the smile on your face faded quickly and suddenly you felt scared. You’ve never seen him look this way, giving you such cold scary gaze.

“A fan huh?” Dabi chuckled darkly, but there was nothing funny about this situation. He felt nothing but anger, the moment he noticed those posters hanging in your walls, that heinous face, standing all mighty and proud, he saw red. Who would’ve thought, the only girl he actually had interest in, was his daddy’s biggest fan?

Dread settled in your gut as you looked back at him, you couldn’t recognise him at all. That Dabi who was always so flirty and kind to you, was nowhere to be seen.

“Is there something wrong? You’re acting weird..” you mumbled, backing away from him.

“Why are ya steppin’ back doll?” he says threateningly, coming closer to you. “C’mere, tell me more about this obsession of yours, like the big loyal fan you seem to be”

He puts his charred hand on the poster, activating his quirk and setting it ablaze.

“What are you doing?!” you gasp in shock, scared of the possibility that your room would end up in flames. Without thinking twice, you head quickly for the door, the situation clearly unsafe.

“You are not going anywhere.”

With a firm grip on your arm, Dabi forcefully pulled you back, throwing you to the ground. You let out a loud yelp in pain, while he went and locked your door.

“Stop it!! Dabi let m-”

Interrupting your whining, Dabi pulled you by your hair, making you face him. A psychotic sinister grin formed on his face, one that sent shivers down your spine, a grin that made you doubt he was even human.

“You fucking piece of trash..” he said through gritted teeth. “How low could you be, really? Endeavor?!”

By now tears were rolling down your cheeks, his sudden change of behaviour not only scared you to death, but also confused you.

“Dabi please- I don’t understand!!” you whined. “P-Please stop and let’s talk! I- I don’t-”

“Shut that filthy mouth of yours.” he spoke sternly, pulling your hair even harder and then throwing you to the bed. You had no time to crawl away from him, he was on top of you in mere seconds, overpowering you and suffocating you.

“Tell me, do you really think that precious hero of yours would even bother to come save you from someone like me right now? Let me tell you somethin’ funny doll…” he cackled, pulling your shirt and tearing it apart. Then his other hand tugged at your pants, the flames on his fingers burning them slowly. You screamed in terror as heat enveloped your body. Those azure flames of his were pretty, you’d always stare in awe as he lit up his cigarette. But right now that was not the case. They were terrifying, scorching hot, you thought he’d burn you alive. But Dabi controlled them just enough that only your clothes would burn, he had other plans in mind.

“A man like him would surely spit on your corpse if it benefited him the pedestal where he stands today.” Dabi whispered, his face inches away from yours. “Just like he’s always done. But you’re a naive little one aren’t cha? You believe anything the TV shows you right? Fuckin’ pathetic..”

As you stared back at him, eyes full of tears while trying to cover your naked body, Dabi had the strongest urge to hurt you. Real bad. Mostly for the fact that you, who Dabi considered his the moment he laid his eyes on you, was idolising the one person Dabi had sworn to take revenge on. The one person who Dabi dedicated the rest of his life, at the beginning to make him proud, and now to just shatter him completely. The same man who ruined his life, whose face was now printed on a poster hanging on your wall, who you apparently considered strong and inspiring, a true hero.

Dabi wanted to laugh. Dabi wanted to scream. He wanted to set this whole place ablaze with you in it, hear your screams of agony like every lowlife he’s killed so far.

“Y’know, it’s been a goal of mine to destroy him” Dabi says, pinning your hands, now your body bare for him to see. “But something that will feel good too is destroying his biggest fans, show them that their favorite hero won’t come save them when they’re in the hands of the villains. Show them what kind of people they idolise, show them how truly pathetic they are, right doll?”

You shake your head, now bursting into tears as he held you down, his body almost crushing you. The word ‘villain’ had you hyperventilating, shaking in fear.

Was Dabi a villain?

“P-please I’m sorry! I don’t know w-what is going on..let me go! Dabi stop!”

“Too late.”

As if your body weighted nothing, Dabi carried you and turned you around so you were laying on your stomach. With one hand he pushed your head further into the pillows, with the other he forcefully brought your hips up, bending you over and almost breaking your back. Your muffled whines and cries fed him even more with the desire to ruin you and hurt you. Heating up his hand, he gave your ass a harsh slap, making you flinch and move forward, screaming in pain.

“That’s gonna leave a nasty scar” he chuckled, looking at the reddened flesh, slowly bruising. “Y’see how his flames feel like, slut? You want more?” he gave your other asscheek a slap too, this time worse than the first one. Your cries and begging fell on deaf ears as he kept smacking your ass over and over again, the heat and pain on your lower back making you feel almost paralysed. With one final grab of your ass, he admired his work on you, but that wasn’t enough.

You were nearly having a panic attack, but Dabi couldn’t care less as he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants, letting out his now hardened cock, the tip leaking precum and begging to be stuffed on your tight pussy.

“Let’s see how long will it take for your favorite hero to show up hm?” he said, pulling you harshly by your hair and looking at your sobbing face. The look in his eyes was manic, his grin wide and terrifying, you saw nothing but a monster.

“Another soul ruined. Because of him people like me exist dollface. Never forget that.”

“D-Dabi no!!!”

Without any preparation at all, the tip of his cock pushed further between your folds, stretching you open and invading you from the inside. Your mouth fell open but no sound came out, the pain of the burning stretch left you breathless. He slammed his hips hard against you, burying himself to the brim and letting out a low groan.

“F-Fuuuck, so tight f’me” he whispered, leaning closer to your face to lick off the tears rolling down your cheek. “Tell me princess, you ever thought of that scum fucking ya like this hm? You probably have, touching yourself as you looked at his poster. His biggest fan yeah? Fucking disgusting!” Dabi laughed, looking at your reddened face as he humiliated you further.

“But now, you get his hellspawn instead. Ain’t that just wonderful?”

Setting up the pace, Dabi fucked you roughly, slamming his hips into you faster and harder, not leaving you any time to get used to his length at all. The unbearable pain had your legs shaking and your body falling down, unable to keep up with all of this. But he held you near himself, bending you over and keeping your hips in place, huffing and groaning in your ear like a wild hungry animal as he took everything from you. His hand would heat up from time to time, leaving bruises on your hips and back, painting your body with his marks and bites while his teeth sunk on your shoulders. Your choked whines and crying mixed with the creaking of the bed and his groans filled your room, and you wished for everything to end. For this suffering to end.

“Y’wanna hold on to this as I fuck this cunt into oblivion, little bitch?” he cackled, grabbing your Endeavor plushie and throwing it to your face. “Let the hero scum know how much you love villain cock filling you to the brim yeah?”

“P-please stop it! Dabi.. I-I beg you.. it hurtsss!”

“Nngh good- as it fucking should!” he moaned, his eyes almost crossed from how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock, milking him dry. He fucked you deeply, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix and making your legs tremble. You could feel him twitching inside of you, a sign that he was close to cumming.

“Mmhm fuck- Y’know.. what would probably make the old man happy?” To continue the bloodline” he grinned. “We have the honour, dollface. M’gonna breed you real nice- fuck- and have some other brats running around, making his life hell. Amazing, yeah?”

You didn’t know what sick twisted things went through his mind, nor had you any idea what was even going on as he continued rambling while fucking you ruthlessly. You panicked at the thought of him coming inside of you, you tried your best to move away from him but no avail. Dabi kept you locked on his grasp, his hand wrapping around your neck while he reached his high, his movements now getting sloppy and his breathing heavier.

“N-not inside! Please, Dabi!” you whimpered.

“Shut up n’ take it, slut. F-fuck.. take it all!” With one final slam of his hips he came deep inside of you, painting your walls with his pearly white seed, filling you so much to the point it leaked out. You felt so full, so filthy and violated, so hurt.

A few seconds went by as Dabi sat there without moving, catching his breath while you tried to catch yours, still crying and sniffing. Your body ached terribly, but you sat there without moving or saying a word, making sure to not accidentally anger him further.

“One last thing.”

Dabi turned you around so you’re laying on your back, then taking his cock out and smearing it all over your tits, covering them with his cum. Then he handed you the Endeavor plushie.

“W-what are yo-”

“Shut up and hold it. This moment shall never be forgotten” he grinned, taking out his phone for a picture. There you were, laying down with your body all naked and bruised, tits smeared on villain cum while you held the hero plushie near yourself. His scarred hand reached to grab your neck, then he took the picture, humiliating you fruther.

“Very artistic, don’t cha think?” he chuckled, showing you the nasty picture of you he took. Your face heated up in embarrassment, tears forming in your eyes again.

“M’gonna keep it for myself, but who knows. Maybe I will make it public, show those hero fans that they will never be safe from the villains.”

And with that, Dabi stood up, dressed himself up and prepared to leave your room, leaving you there, ruined.

“I will be back. Make sure to search my name on the internet, you’ll find some interesting stuff~” he smiled menacingly.

“You’ll soon be my biggest fan.”

🏷️ tags: @scariusaquarius @holydayaria @bubblegumsblog @daniidil @arinexeisnotworking @cherryflavoredkisses @madsttx @syrenkitsune @cyberdazetragedy @dabislittlebeaniebaby

#B.writes #secret santa #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #bnha smut #mha smut #dark content #tw: noncon #dark fanfiction #yandere #yandere dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi smut

[gremlingottoosilly]

The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 

— I can fold my own pants, love. 

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 

— Little minx. 

— Me or Lady Lasswell? 

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 

— Shite, love. Sorry. 

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 

— Not a chance. 

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 

— Help your captain, eh? 

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 

 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 

Price moans. 

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 

God, what are you even thinking about? 

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 

— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 

#cod #yandere price #price x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #yandere cod #call of duty #cod imagine #cod fanfic

[sukunasweetheart]

👀👉🏾👈🏾 Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?

wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...

i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)

prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)

imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one

a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.

youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day

but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing

seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-

it all got too much for you.

all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.

not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career

sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up

arguments after arguments after arguments

the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with

it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.

it leads to more arguing.

of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas

another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him

you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.

it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.

sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up

he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.

meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over

he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.

you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.

when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you

he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.

what the fuck are you talking about?

oh, here comes a severe headache.

his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing

the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?

its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..

eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.

the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)

eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?

i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.

years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.

you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.

of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.

you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?

and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.

he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.

"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.

he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...

during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...

when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.

after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.

but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.

he probably shouldn't bother.

but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.

youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.

what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.

he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.

"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.

"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.

you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?

the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?

a familiar headache creeps up.

simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.

you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.

you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.

he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.

truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?

"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."

...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.

"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."

that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.

"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"

it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.

"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"

before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.

you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.

he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.

back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.

he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.

a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.

when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.

from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.

your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.

he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.

the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.

he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.

over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.

he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.

sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.

you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?

"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.

"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.

why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.

"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."

"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.

"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"

like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?

"you don't sound very convincing."

"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"

that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.

"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."

your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.

it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.

"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.

"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."

he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.

sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.

"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."

you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.

your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.

while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.

from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.

and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.

it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.

you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.

a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.

however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.

the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.

"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.

he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.

"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"

"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."

"same here."

as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.

"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."

you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.

"alright. sure," you say.

he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.

but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.

"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...

"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.

"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.

".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.

"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.

"i still love you." (always have, always will.)

you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.

"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)

something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-

"...goodnight."

he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.

you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.

before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.

his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.

"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.

you don't respond, only silently weeping.

he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.

"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.

"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.

he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.

"...but do you want to let me in?"

"...yes," you hic.

he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.

"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.

"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-

"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."

he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.

you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.

sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.

he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.

he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.

soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.

it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.

it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.

his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.

it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.

"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.

when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.

"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.

he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?

"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.

"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.

"i'm all yours."

when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.

"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.

"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.

you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.

soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.

"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.

but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.

sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.

he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.

right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.

you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...

his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)

" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."

the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.

"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.

"i want your babies so bad."

you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.

"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.

the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.

when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.

he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.

there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.

back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now

you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk

he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know

anyway prepare for turbulence

but everything'll be alright bc hes with you

im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place

and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)

and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together

sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time

and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway

he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...

sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)

lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3

okay, thats all, bye <3

Masterlist

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #poe answers

[hoonvrs]

CHILD OF DIVORCE — l. heeseung

PAIRING heeseung × fmr

DESC. yours and heeseungs breakup through the eyes of nishimura riki

GENRE angst, 3rd party perspective

WARNING mutual breakup, mention of parental issues, riki has attachment issues, he’s also irrational but aren’t we all

W. COUNT 0.8k

S. NOTES why did i have so much fun writing this

to say riki considered you and heeseung his parents was an understatement.

he boy genuinely believed you were. so it's safe to say that when his heeseung hyung ( read: dad ) came home to their apartment late to their weekly boys' night and dropped the news, he was devastated.

“me and y/n broke up.“

riki could feel his whole world collapse, suddenly feeling ten again when his parents sat him down to tell him that his mum and dad were getting a divorce and dad was going to be moving back to his old city.

in hindsight, he should’ve consoled his hyung who didn’t look like he had just broken it off with his girlfriend of four years and the woman everyone believed he’d marry one day. he should've gone up to him like a good friend and given him a few words of comfort — maybe even a hug.

but instead, he felt anger. it was selfish, but he couldn’t realise his irrationality over the splitting feeling in his chest, and heeseung's reaction — or lack thereof — didn’t help but wedge a nail in the crack and hammer it down.

he couldn’t make out what the rest of their friends were saying, feeling all his senses suddenly muffle, giving his emotions nowhere to go but out, “what do you mean you broke up.”

the room suddenly felt colder. all their friends stopped talking and froze their gazes on him. seeing sunghoon from his peripheral, sending him a questioning look, but his vision tunnelled on the eldest, who was still standing near the entrance. “you can’t just break up, not now.”

confusion settled on the elder's face, overtly not expecting this reaction from him, “what do you mean i can't? it's my relationship, and we both ended it.”

riki was starting to feel antagonised, seeing faces look back and forth between him and the other, so he stood up in an attempt to size himself up, refusing to see the irrationality of his point. he felt like heeseung was being inconsiderate by breaking up something riki relied on without thinking of the others who'd be affected outside of the relationship.

everyone in their friend group was aware of his abnormal attachments, evident in the shirt he refuses to throw away because it was his father's, even if the fabric had more holes than not, or the two sizes too big shoes his sister gifted him, insisting he would ‘grow into them’ and now yours and heeseung's relationship.

healthy relationships weren't the norm in his life growing up, so by default, riki was hostile and withdrawn towards you the first few times heeseung introduced you as his new girlfriend. reminding himself constantly at the back of his mind that all relationships must come to an end and with every problem heeseung brought home, he was convinced it was near.

however, he must have underestimated you. one year became two, then four, and riki had become accustomed to his life with you. finding himself excited every time you’d come over whenever he was around because you had always seemed to favour him slightly, giving him the best meat cuts whenever you’d eat out together, or saving him the corner of the brownie because you knew it was his favourite part.

maybe it was silly to let you grow a home into the hole in his heart that was carved by his mother, seeking maternal comforts from you and allowing you to become a constant in his life.

but then again, all relationships have an end but riki wasn’t ready to let this one go. “so what? that’s it? you’re just going to end it here after everything?”

“look, it was a mutual breakup. we both just don't feel the same as we did before, so we broke it off like adults. i wish her all the best, just not with me.”

the split started to spread throughout his whole body, feeling his knees start to weaken under the weight of his emotions. when he started to feel his throat clog up and his eyes start to burn, he quickly made his escape, pushing past his hyung making sure to knock their shoulder on his way out to show he wasn't happy with the new change.

he could hear them discussing what happened after slamming his bedroom door, the thin walls leaving no word left unheard, drilling each question into his mind.

maybe then he should’ve left and apologised for his outburst, but grief is a funny feeling.

even though the relationship wasn’t his and never was to begin with, riki had gotten too comfortable living vicariously through you, and now he wanted someone to take responsibility for feelings only he could be blamed for.

but that’s another thing about grief. there’s always someone you want to pin the blame on. someone who caused this emotion to spiral and settle at the pit of his stomach without anywhere else to go leaving it to make itself home in his body.

and it wasn’t going to be him.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu

#saints works ( madewithlove. ) #enhanet #rmb this is fanfiction #so rikis parents here don’t reflect his parents irl #no beta we die like yang injang #riki is a bit weird but he’s so real #heeseung drabbles #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fanfiction #heeseung reactions #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #riki drabbles #riki imagines #riki pov #heeseung angst #heeseung au #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagine #niki reactions #niki pov #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios

[steddiealltheway]

Steve cradles Eddie's face gently as he kisses him with a smile. "I missed you," he whispers between kisses.

"I missed you, too," Eddie says as he kisses a path across Steve's jaw.

Steve groans and thuds his head back against the wall of the Hawkins High School theater room. "Tell me again why we can't tell people yet."

Eddie laughs as he pulls away to look at him with a softness in his gaze. "You've already asked me this twice in the past five minutes."

"Because I want everyone to know about my amazing boyfriend. Robin's going to kill me when she finds out that I've been lying about my series of bad dates. And Dustin will kill both of us for keeping this a secret from him. You know how much he's been begging for us to hang out together."

Eddie sighs and hides his face in the crook of Steve's neck. "It's just not the right time yet." He lifts his head to meet Steves's gaze as he continues, "I just... I'm afraid Dustin or one of the guys will say something at school and accidentally out us. Plus, I want to tell everyone together. Not just you and not just me. Together, okay?"

Steve nods. He would do anything for Eddie. "Not even Robin? he asks.

"Not even Robin."

Steve sighs and nods. "Okay. I promise we'll tell everyone together."

Eddie smiles and leans in. "Seal it with a kiss?"

Steve laughs and wraps his arms around his shoulders. "One more then I have to drive Dustin home before he kills me."

One more kiss turns into two which turns into three until Steve finally breaks away with a big smile and says, "Okay, okay! I have to go!"

Eddie clings onto his hand as Steve tries to leave, and Steve can't help but linger a little longer. "When's your final campaign thing again?"

Eddie smiles. "Two weeks. Think you can make it that long without me?"

"No," Steve replies honestly and moves in closer to hug Eddie tightly. His heart thuds in his chest, and for some reason, he feels like this may be one of the last moments the two of them will get. He tries to shake away the feeling but Eddie must notice.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, concern heavy in his tone as he pulls Steve in closer.

Steve only squeezes him tighter.

"We'll tell them together eventually, okay? Not apart."

Steve nods and breaks the hug, kissing Eddie deeply before he steps back, fingers trailing down Eddie's arms to his hands until they slip away. "Together and not apart. Got it. And hey, two weeks."

"Two weeks," Eddie says with a big smile. "But you better call."

Steve scoffs, "You act like I wouldn't."

Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face, failing to hide the blush on his face. Steve finds it entirely adorable. He walks away and pushes the door slightly open, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom he feels. He pauses in the doorway and turns around. "You know I love you, right?"

Eddie freezes momentarily in confusion, only having heard the phrase a few times. He nods. "I love you, too," he replies a bit breathlessly.

Steve nods before walking out the door, waggling his fingers at Eddie in the way that always makes him laugh. "I'll call you later."

And he does call him later. In fact, Steve can't go a single night without hearing Eddie's voice before he goes to bed, which makes it worse when he doesn't hear from him two weeks later after Lucas's game and their brief fight about how Eddie should've changed the date of the final D&D session.

Only, Steve didn't realize there was more to Eddie missing his call other than their fight.

Things only continue to go downhill after that as the impending doom finally comes.

With the world coming to an end, Steve doesn't really get the chance to talk things through with Eddie, and they both know now is not the time to reveal their secret relationship.

Steve reluctantly agrees to the plan to face Vecna, separating him and Eddie temporarily, but it seems like the best choice to ensure Eddie will stay safe.

But when he hears Dustin's screams as they leave the Creel house, Steve knows that he thought wrong.

And as he drags Eddie's lifeless body out of the Upside Down, he tries as hard as he can to hold his tears back. Because his reaction wouldn't make sense to anyone. And he promised him. They would tell everyone about their relationship together, not apart.

So, Steve waits until everyone leaves him alone, none of them knowing that he's lost the love of his life, and he lets himself finally break. "Together and not apart," Steve sobs, "We were supposed to be together and never apart."

And Steve will never know that Eddie, with his dying breath, tried as hard as he could to tell Dustin that Steve could tell everyone, but he never got the words out.

#steddie #steddie angst #angst #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #I'm sorryyyyyy #school is stressful and this is the resulttttt #main character death

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Series

In the Margins (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.

Fix You (f a) ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

desolate (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

sweetner (f s) ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

Illicit Favors (f s) ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

#bts #bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic recs #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fic recs #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #suga #suga x reader #suga smut #suga fic recs #suga fluff #suga angst

[nerdyjournals]

Thank you for your request! Other than the little mishap, this was a fun one to do! You really had me thinking over what each one would get upset over, so hopefully they all fit!

Bang Chan

You could feel his eyes bore through you as Chan stared at you through the glass in the hospital door. He looked frazzled. Hair a mess, the bags under his eyes even worse than before.

He stepped in and you watched all the air escape him as he took in your bandaged wrist.

"And what have we learned?" He said, voice soft but stern.

"To wait until help arrives and to not be a stubborn and impatient baby," you whined as he lifted up your hand. "They said it'll be a week or so before I can lift anything."

"Do you see why I was so insistent that you wait?" You nodded. "Plus I have seven able body movers who were ready to help us later tonight after rehearsals."

You whispered another apology as he took you into his arms and held you tight.

"I'm just glad you're okay and it was nothing major."

Lee Know

You felt yourself wince as you stepped over the threshold of your apartment. You had been hoping to do some spring cleaning before Minho got home so he could just rest.

He had told you to do it in stages so you wouldn't overwork and hurt yourself, but what do you do? You overwork and hurt yourself.

Now you softly flinch as you spot him sitting in an armchair that you swear was never positioned in the middle of the hallway.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" You scratched the back of your head nervously.

"Big time." Minho stood from the chair and walked over. "You know I tell you not to do things because I care about you, right?" You nod. "So why go against me?"

"I wanted you to have a nice place to rest since you've been working so hard, but I just screwed up again." He pulled you into a soft hug, silently trying to find where you were hurt. "You're not even supposed to be home early. Why are you here?"

"You always send me a photo of your food before my lunch break if you're home, and I know for a fact that you have today off."

"You were worried?"

"Don't tell the media. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know."

Okay, the laugh hurt a little bit.

Changbin

The front door opened and closed without Changbin's usual fanfare. Yup, you were in trouble.

His figure came around the corner with a small pharmacy bag and two cups of boba. Okay, so he wasn't that mad....yet.

"Are you okay?" Those words shocked you, having been ready for his beratement or something along those lines.

"I'm okay. A little sore, but okay." He walked over and handed you the drink and bag. "I thought you said you'll be late tonight."

"And I knew that if I didn't come home at my earliest convenience, you'd try something stupid again." You pouted as both of you knew he was right. "I know you want our first place to be perfect, but we have all the time in the world to decorate."

"I work from home, Bin. I need something to do other than watching a computer screen for eight hours."

"Then bring your laptop with you and visit the studio. The guys won't mind. They love you."

"Are you sure I won't be distracting?"

"Never. If anything, you might get annoyed with Jisung's antics."

"I'll take that risk."

Hyunjin

The sound of feet rushing against the tile of your apartment floor brought you back to reality. Your little perch on the balcony slightly helped alleviate your headache.

Hyunjin stood there with a small pharmacy bag and a hand fan.

"Are you okay? Any breakouts or irritation?" He asked, worry filling his voice with each word.

"No. I got out quickly enough." You said, obviously tired. He switched on the hand fan and placed it yours as he set the bag aside. "I'm sorry."

"What were you doing in there anyway?"

"I wanted to clean up a bit. You were really stressed about it."

"I'd rather have a messy studio than have you in the hospital." His gaze drifted from you to the view. "Fresh air help?"

"Not as much as you."

Han

Hearing footsteps approach, you quickly tried to get off the floor but to no avail.

"Aish..." Han's soft curse came from the doorway. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me before trying to unpack?"

The two of you had moved in together recently and your stuff was the last to unpack and also the heaviest.

"Did you finish your book already?" He asked as the two of you began to pick up the fallen novels. He could see your face scrunch at all the bent pages and covers.

"I thought the next one was in the stack of opened boxes. I just wanted to start and not have to bug you for something so small."

"You enjoy reading, yeah?" You slowly nodded. "Then it's not so small. I think it's small when I interrupt your reading for a thirty second clip opinion."

You nodded and placed another book back in the box as he tilted your chin over to look him in the eyes.

"If any of your books got ruined, they're replaceable. You know what's not? You. So ask me next time, okay?"

Felix

It was a little embarrassing to have Felix walk in and see you with your hand submerged in a bowl of water.

"I thought I told you to do an ice shower," he sighed as he placed the bag in the table.

"Why would I need to shower for just my hand?" You slowly lifted out of the water and showed off the damage. "How bad?"

"Well, it's not blistering so that's good." Felix grabbed the kitchen towel to dry pat your hand. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Taking cookies out of the oven." You pointed over to where a batch of cookies still sat on the baking sheet. "I couldn't find the mitts so i used the rubber ones, but the back of my hand touched the metal."

"You're very brave to even keep them on the tray while in pain." He put the cream on and began to wrap it. "You're not allowed to bake without me here anymore, okay? At least, not until this heals."

"Oh no. I have to spend more quality time with my boyfriend. Whatever shall I do?" The sarcasm dripped from your words, making him smile and press against the injury.

"Don't make me regret it."

Seungmin

His steps were frantic as he unlocked the apartment door. Part of him was thankful they had chosen to put security cameras in the house, but the other part cursed him cause it forced him to watch his partner take a nasty fall.

"Y/N?" He didn't raise his voice, knowing that you might have a bad headache.

Your hand peeked out from behind the kitchen island and he rushed over. He found you leaned against the cabinet with an ice pack against the back of your head.

"Hey," he whispered, "1 to 10?" You held up four fingers then four more. "Can you stand?" You signed out the sign for 'no.' "Can I carry you? I got the car running outside." You signed 'yes.' "Talking hurts?" You signed 'yes' again as he carefully lifted you into his arms.

You signed 'sorry' as you made it to the car.

"Why are you apologizing? It was an accident and the guys understand that." He gently placed you in the passenger seat. "They will want an update once you're all clear, okay?"

You signed 'okay.'

I.N

Something was off. You had been avoiding his hand ever since he got home. Normally Jeongin won't mind, but you won't even hold it in front of you.

"You tried to hook up the gundam already, didn't you?" He said as he watched you freeze. "Show me the damage."

You slowly held your hand out, placing it softly in his. Small bandages say on a few knuckles while little red dots covered your palm.

"You tried to solder the wires without knowing how to use the tool, didn't you?" You tried to take your hand back but failed. "I told you to wait for me."

"But I wanted it done so that I could show it to you when you got home. Now it's just sitting there, taunting me."

"What's more fun? Building together or building alone?"

"Together." You sounded so shy.

"Then let's have dinner and we'll finish your project together." You nodded. "And then I yell at my brother to never give you a complicated set again."

"JEONGIN."

#kpop fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz imagines #skz au #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids text imagines #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #changbin imagines #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagines #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin imagines

[ceilidho]

prompt: you keep seeing apparitions of a dead special forces operative who's been haunting the barracks. (light angst; nsfw) (actual ghost simon riley)

-

War dogs chewed up and spat out by the machinery of war.

It is an incalculable blow to learn of his death. Worse still that you learn of it by happenstance, one officer talking to another, only listening in because it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him and their voices go hushed in that way that makes your ears prick up. You’re sitting at a nearby table in the canteen when someone says the single most devastating words that have ever been spoken near you.

“They weren’t able to recover the whole body, just some of it. Pretty gruesome. Don’t know if you ever met him, but he was an alright guy—pretty quiet. Scary, yeah, but—I don’t know. He was fair. Got the job done though. Soap’s taking it pretty hard.”

You barely breathe at the news. Something is squeezing your heart until it overfills on the other side. 

You walk around base in a daze after that. It’s not anyone’s fault that you aren’t notified—no one was supposed to know. Your whole arrangement with Simon was predicated on the knowledge that it would never be revealed to your commanding officers or the rest of the infantry. Made sense at the time. Makes less sense now when your world is falling apart and you have no way of even requesting Ghost’s dog tags. 

Pain holds you upright like a splint while it also tries to smother you. You crawl back to your barracks after training the recruits, voice a hoarse whisper in your throat. Showers are an optimal place to cry, when maybe you won’t be heard. Grief is not grief when there’s nowhere for it to go. 

Maybe Soap was privy enough to Ghost’s life to know. He doesn’t spend time with you, but you see him once from across the tarmac on a flight out and his gaze lingers on you. There are deep troughs under his eyes, dark even with the distance between you. His posture is still, rigid; despite his uniform being pressed and his hair being cut and gelled into place, there is something singularly heavy weighing him down.

He nods from across the way to you. You grit your jaw and nod back. 

It’s the only time you’ll ever acknowledge it. Soap never seeks you out after that—maybe it’s too painful. Maybe shared pain isn’t always enough. 

The worst is only finding out weeks later that Ghost has been buried. That’s your closure. An offhand comment from an operations officer on a smoke break. Your numb hand flicking a lighter. Rain breaking in the early twilight hours and you stand in it so long that you shiver and shake on your way back to your room. 

Lightning that crackles in the storm clouds, illuminating the place where you just stood outside while you stare from your window. Illuminating someone standing where you just were. You squint, but they round the bend to one of the other buildings before you can make them out. 

Every soldier has a story. Conducting barracks checks on staff duty only to find a soldier with half their jaw missing asking for a cigarette. A marine approaching a soldier asking for his rifle, garbed in a ripped vest from early Iraq. Squad bays known for apparitions, known for hauntings. Figures seen from the trees, the half-shadowed remains of old tanks, burned and hollowed out, suddenly upright and mobile. 

In certain barracks, soldiers won’t even leave their rooms at night to use the washroom. They’d rather piss in old bottles or hold off until morning light altogether. It’s common enough to be joked about, for soldiers to trade stories in the mess over supper, trying to spook each other with the things they’ve seen or claimed to see. 

You can tell the ones who’ve actually seen things from those who haven’t though. The ones who have are often quieter, often only laugh a little. The truth is buried in their inability to fully commit to the bit. It’s the knowing that does that.

Knowing that there are things that death cannot hide. 

The first time you see Simon again, it’s not a homecoming. You know there’s something very wrong. 

It’s 3am and someone’s standing in front of your door. You feel it before you see them, feel something like every single hair on your body standing on end and the sudden lucid thought in the middle of a dream that you need to wake up. That you need to wake up right now. 

Heart racing when your eyes snap open. Sweat already slicking the backs of your knees. You’re lying on your side, hands curled close to your face, and you feel its gaze on you like the heaviest dread you’ve ever felt in your life. You stare at the wall that your bed is pushed up against until you find the courage to roll over.

Just a shape in the dark. A dark shape. Distinct from the rest of the darkness in your room. Tall as it is wide. The slightest motion to it, like breathing or the gentle swaying of the human body when it’s allowed to be loose. 

There’s a lamp on your end table. You flick it on without tearing your eyes away from the dark shape looming by the door, but when light unveils your room, it flickers away like a bad illusion. Just a jacket hung up on the back of the door. Your heart races still. 

When the light goes off, the shadow doesn’t reappear.

It might not be him, but something’s haunting you. You spoon cereal into your mouth in the morning with a shaking hand. It’s the massive shape of a body behind the shower curtain in your private bathroom that has you certain—certain—that someone’s there until you whip it to the side and see only tile wall. You know what you saw though, and you know from the way the top of it peeked over the curtain that it was blond. 

Weeks go by. You’re in a bivy sack and a voice you recognize wakes you up for watch. It’s the same voice that used to rumble low in your ear when you let him into your bed on leave (you always used to take them at the same time, no one the wiser). You’re back on base in your room and something leans its full weight onto your bed. You wake up to him sitting on the edge of your bed, blood dripping from an old wound. Him though, skull mask and all. Eyes shadowed always, black staring at you seeing and unseeing. 

You don’t need to ask what he wants from you. He lumbers around the barracks like a wraith that only you can see. Never truer to his old moniker than he is in death. A civilian worker flirts with you one day and he winds up in the infirmary. Fell down the stairs, another sergeant tells you when you ask. You smile tight, brittle. If only. 

He slips into your bed at night when the lights are shut and you’ve turned over onto your side. You can’t see him, but the bed compresses under his weight like it did when he was alive. He’s still for a minute, stare heavy on you while you lie there motionless, waiting him out. When he finally lays a hand on your hip, you flinch at how normal it feels. Like he didn’t go out and die one day. Like it’s really him at your back dragging a hand down the curve of your hip and over your thigh.

He divests you of your pyjamas the same way he used to in motel rooms, your apartment off-base, his cabin up north that you still have the key to but can’t bring yourself to visit. You let him. Shorts pulled down and kicked to the bottom of the bed, then your underwear. Shirt rucked up so he can fit a big, rough hand over your tit. His hands are solid where they touch you, nothing ghostly about them. He squeezes like the memory of your flesh is half-gone, like he needs to sink himself into you again. 

“Missed…you…” His voice comes like a deep rumble, tectonic plates shifting over the asthenosphere. 

The hand on your breast slides up, over the delicate skin of your throat, over where your pulse goes mad and you dry swallow because there’s nothing in your mouth. Over and up the curve of your cheek, thumb pressing against your lips, curling your top lip up until you’re almost kissing it. Then he lets go, hand coming back down to your hip. 

“Simon, are you—” you start, cut off on a gasp when he lifts your leg over his hip and something presses against your opening. Notches there, sinks in hot inch after hot inch. Head spinning and breath wild when he spears you on his thick length, half-tumbling over you until you’re lying prone on your bed. Simon’s as heavy as you remember, the full weight of him keeping you trapped there. You can only take. You can only draw in a deep breath and let out the softest sounds while he presses in, 

“Had to…come back,” the ghost of your old lover says, growling into your ear. “Couldn’t…leave you here…alone.”

You wonder what’s really behind the mask this time. His hands and dick feel flesh enough, but fear still quivers in your belly because you know that whatever it is pressing you down with a firm hand on your shoulder blade, it’s not fully him. 

You’ve heard of ghosts haunting places but never people. There’s something achingly loyal about the way he fucks you though. It’s dark and hot under him, and he mouths where he can, mask pulled up finally. Not that you can see. Better that you can’t, maybe. Pulsing in and out of your cunt, silent but for his shallow intakes of breath. He feels enormous and terrifying at your back. 

A big arm still clad in his old uniform jacket is braced beside your head. Simon whispers apologies into your hair; that he pulled himself out of a grave for a second time because he couldn’t untangle his soul from yours, but he got it wrong this time around. He didn’t make it in time. 

“I won’t leave you though, love,” he says around kisses laid tender on the nape of your neck. He bites the meat of your shoulder hard enough to leave an imprint of his teeth. “Never gonna leave you.” His words make you slicker, hotter; tightening around him until he snarls and fucks more viciously. A promise you thought he couldn’t keep. 

In the morning, you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You take off your shirt and turn around. There’s a red bite mark on your upper left shoulder and it aches when you touch it.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

[kakujis]

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 

but that’s not- 

it is. check your phone. 

oh, i guess it… is? 

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

[bluenotes75]

Trust pt.2

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader x Miles Morales ! 1610

wc : 5,9k Warnings : angst, possessiveness, all characters are around 19 years old, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago, eventual love triangle ?, dramaaaa. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 (coming soon)

Sorry, it took so long, the chapter just kept getting longer. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

You sighed as you closed the door of the store. It was already past midnight and you had just finished a long shift. Oddly, the store had been particularly active today and you couldn't catch any break. Now you sought one simple thing. To find the comfort of your bed.

You removed the key from the lock and frowned as a drop of water touched your skin. It was raining. 

Wonderful.

You had no umbrella with you as you didn't anticipate the night to get rainy. Regretting your choice of clothes, you pressed your bag on top of your head to protect yourself from the rain. Your home was a bit far from the cornerstone you worked at and you knew you had to hurry up because the streets were not safe at night.

As you headed toward your apartment, your thought deviated toward him. 

It had been one month. Four weeks since everything fell apart.

At least, to you.

Twenty-eight days since you broke up with Miles Morales. Six hundred and seventy-two hours since he betrayed you and you liked to think that you had moved on. It was the easiest way to go through your days. 

 And if your heart ached each time you found his clothes in your closet or if you woke up in the middle of the night to noises on your window thinking it was him, you denied it.

The pain that you felt that night was unmatched. It was still fresh, rooted deep in your memories. But with time, you discovered it was nothing next to the pain of leaving without Miles. He wasn't there physically, yet he occupied each ounce of your mind.

Contrary to what you could believe, Miles wasn't any better. You were on his mind, 24/7. 

He regretted. He regretted considerably. He had made the worst mistake of his life and just like that, you slipped through his fingers. 

You were his world. His universe. He missed your presence. He missed holding you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your skin, tickling the curve of your hip, caressing the softness of your skin with his lips and seeing the deepness of your loving gaze when you looked up at him. He missed everything about you and he refused to let you go.

And this became the hardest part for you. Miles had tried to get you back. 

Countless time.

Because even if your mind was screaming no, your heart was still weak for the boy. And he knew it.

He hadn't stopped texting you in the weeks following your break up. He had asked for forgiveness so many times you couldn't even count it. When you blocked him on every social media, he directly came to your house. He would knock on your window at late hours like he always did. 

You would leave him outside.

After some time, he finally decided to give you some space but you could still feel his presence from afar. You could feel his stare on your back sometimes as you came back from work. You knew he was still making sure you were safe. Sometimes, you find to notes from him on your window.

You didn't read them.

You had thought of taking him back. On your lowest nights, you had thought that maybe it was for the best. You felt nothing without him. Even if the relationship brought your more strain than anything else, it was at least something. It was toxic but addicting. It made you cry at night but it made you feel high on other days. The only thing stopping you from going back was that little doubt ticking in the back of your brain.

What if he did it again?

But if there was one thing you knew, is that you were faithful to yourself. You were too afraid to put yourself through that process again if he was to mess up again. He had already broken you once, had left you miserable and you had suffered too much to trust him again.

So with time, you learned to let go. You had finally gotten used to living without him. Each day you were forgetting him more and more and you felt like yourself once again. And while your heart was still tied to his in a way, you knew you could live peacefully now.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by a noise behind you, yet you didn't give it a second thought. However, when you heard again, this time followed by irregular steps against the wet concrete, you frowned.

You peeked behind your shoulder and noticed a man, both taller and broader, dressed in a black hoodie. You couldn't see his face.

Your heartbeat picked up.

You accelerated, hoping that you were worrying for nothing, but that hope was soon crushed when the steps also became faster. Before you could think of a way to get yourself out of this situation, a hand covered your mouth and you were dragged into an alley.

It was dark and you could barely see anything as you fought back against the broad body that manhandled you against the wall. 

''What pretty girl like you doing outside at such an hour.''

He whispered, his breath reeking of booze. He pressed his body against yours and travelled his hands on your back. Your cheeks pressed hard against the rugged brick wall, you felt tears burn the brim of your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

''N-no! Please don't''

''Shut up bitch, you want it. You wouldn't be walking alone at such hours if not,'' he laughed in your ears.

''Nah, I think her no was clear enough.''

You jerked at the new voice and soon, the hands holding you against the wall disappeared. You turned around panicked, gasping as the man who was once all over you, now laying on the ground, holding his bruised cheek. Another guy dressed in a red suit stood over him.

''I hate assholes like you-'' the newcomer shot a string of web to tie up the man against the wall ? ''who think they can do whatever they want.''

You rubbed your eyes to make sure you saw well. Web ?

''Don't touch women again, got it ?''

The man nodded quickly, eyes widened in fear before the guy in red sent another punch, knocking him out for good.

You stood there, back against the wall, frozen. You had never heard of a guy in red playing the hero in Brooklyn.

New-york was filled with villains. You just hoped to fall on the nicest one.

As if reading your thoughts, the guy in red walked toward you.

''Hey, are you fine? I'm sorry this happened !''

He stopped in his track when you flinched.

''Look, I don't want you any harm,'' he raised his arms in the air as proof. ''Can I...come closer ?''

You nodded slowly, still speechless, and he did so. From closer, he was towering over you and you had to raise your head to properly look at him.

Just like with your ex.

You frowned, feeling stupid for thinking of the guy in such a situation and finally spoke.

''Thank you."

You watched as he smiled through his mask.

''Of course,'' he raised his hand before stopping abruptly. ''Can I touch you ?''

You nodded and he held your chin, angling it to the side and checking your cheek.

''Good he didn't hurt you,'' he then took in your appearance. You were completely wet because of the rain and you had started shivering. He removed the coat he was wearing and wrapped it around your shoulders. ''Here.''

A million thoughts crossed your mind, yet you only cared about one.

The coat smelled like Miles. 

You shook your head, feeling stupid again. Were you so obsessed that you imagined your ex everywhere now? You really needed some sleep. 

But you didn't want to walk home alone.

''I'll bring you home,'' the boy announced before wrapping his arms around your hips. ''Hold onto me tight.''

You did as he said, confused about why but soon understood when he brought you both in the air.

''Oh god !''

You closed your eyes not daring to look down.

''I know,'' he laughed near your ear and you couldn't ignore the shivers that crossed your body at the familiarity of his voice.

In less than ten minutes, you were home after telling him the way.

''Thank you for this,'' you smiled shyly and handed him back his coat.

''Of course! ''

You looked at him and you just couldn't get rid of this picture of Miles. 

''Who are you ?''

You were shocked at your own question, the word escaping your mouth before you could stop yourself.

''Oh, I'm Spiderman," the guy said and you could hear the proudness in his voice.

''No, like who are you really?'' You slid your hands down his shoulders and his arms. It was a posture you knew too well. You could recognize that body in a million. ''Miles ?''

''W-what''

You grabbed the end of his mask and to your surprise, he didn't stop you. You raised it until it revealed his face.

A gasp escaped you as you saw Miles but....he didn't have braids. You studied him carefully. Same lips, same nose, same cheekbones, you almost got fooled. But when you made eye contact with him, you saw it.

It wasn't your ex.

His eyes weren't the same. Your ex had this hardened stare. A gaze built by the wall he created around himself. People said eyes were the mirror of the soul but you couldn't read anything through them.

This guy in front however had....innocence painted all over his eyes. His stare was soft, warm and solacing. 

''You aren't Miles, who are you ?''

The guy took a step forward, hope in his eyes. You stepped back.

''You know Miles Morales ?'' 

You shook your head freaked out by the situation and took another step back.

''Get out.''

The taller widened his eyes. 

''No, no please listen to me first.''

Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was because he looked like Miles, you didn't know. But you didn't have the heart to chase him away one more time.

''You have five minutes.''

"So you're telling me that you are a hero from another earth that is exactly like mine and you saved people you weren't supposed to so a hoard of spidermans is following you and you need to go back to your earth to save your dad."

Miles nodded eagerly.

"I know it sounds crazy but yeah…that's pretty much it.''

''Damn,'' you breathed, letting the information sink in. ''And you need me for..?''

''To find a way back home.''

The boy stared at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You bit the inside of your cheek before shaking your head.

''Look, I don't think I can help you with that.''

His face dropped and he clasped your smaller hands in his calloused ones.

''Nonono, please! You are the only one I could find and you seem to already know Miles Morales from here. You know how I need to act to stay unnoticed.''

You thought about his words. It made sense, but you didn't want to get involved in all that mess.

"I really don't know."

"Please !"

You wondered for a few more seconds. How where you supposed to refuse when he was looking at you pleadingly?

''Alright.''

His facial features broke into a grin and he pulled on your arm, making you collide against his chest.

''Thank you !''

You could only widen your eyes as you felt his arms tighten around you. You hadn't expected this sudden affection. Dumbstruck, you failed to return the gesture until he froze and leaned back, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

''Sorry, I got too excited…'' he looked away, your stare becoming too intense for him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. The Miles you knew was so cold so this new Miles with such a…bubbly personality was interesting.

You couldn't help but think it was sweet…and very cute.

''It's fine.''

He seemed satisfied with your reaction as he joined you before your laughers died down.

''Uh, I might have sum else to ask.''

You hummed.

''I kinda need a place to stay.''

Miles towered over you, holding bedsheets, while you hugged a pillow to your chest.

''So how are we going to do this ?''

You two made eye contact before glancing at the bed again. Suddenly, the boy dropped the fabric on the floor and rose his hand next to his chest.

''I'll sleep on the ground, it's fin-''

''no, you don-''

''Yes, I do. I'm the guy and the guest, so sleep on the bed and I'll-''

''Just lay down, I don't mind.''

You slid under the covers not waiting for his reaction and soon, you heard the mattress dip toward his side. He was careful to let some space between you.

You rose the fabric over both of your bodies and sighed. This was a long day and you were honey tired. You tried to get some sleep but you could feel starring eyes burning your skin.

''What is it ?'' you whispered with your eyes still closed.

You heard the rub of covers before Miles cleared his throat.

''Nothing, nothing.''

Then the mattress bent again and you assumed he turned the other way.

''Oh, by the way. My mom can't know you are here. So you know…be discreet.''

You didn't want to have to explain to her what Miles, your ex - even if it's not really him - was doing in your room at such an hour.

''Don,t worry, I'm discreet.''

The next afternoon, you found yourself in the library. It was far from your apartment and your school, which reduced the chance of running into an unrequired acquaintance.

''Look at this, doesn't it look interesting ?''

You extended a book about something called 'The Super-Collider'. 

''That's basically a particle collider right ?'' You added as Miles grabbed the heavy textbook.

The taller boy nodded, peeking at the back cover.

''Yes, it uses electromagnetic fields to speed up charged particles. And-

''Eventually, pull or join different objects coming from different dimensions,'' you finished, scratching your chin as you wondered about something. You didn't notice Miles' amazed expression. 

''You know what it is ?''

You looked at him as if he was crazy.

''Of course, didn't you watch The Flash ?''

His excitation vanished and you received silence as an answer.

''I'm joking, I'm just really interested in physics,'' you said pivoting back to the bookshelf and searching for another work that could be useful.

''Oh...I didn't know that. I wanna study in that field later.''

Your widened eyes shifted back to him.

''What, you literally hate phys-'' you stopped as remembered who you were with and you shook your head embarrassed. ''Nevermind.....It's nice to have someone who likes it like me.''

You couldn't help the thrill that invaded you. Your ex would always joke about your interests in physics and eventually, you stopped talking about it. So seeing this new Miles show interest brought a certain warm feeling to your stomach. You didn't know what it was, but the longer you were with the boy, the more interesting you found him. You had found a special chemistry with him and it's like you two had always been friends.

You liked that sensation.

''I was wondering, are particle accelerators the reason why you are here ?"

The taller twisted his mouth to the side.

''Uh...not really? It's part of the reason though. Some type of butterfly effect,'' he finished as you opened another book. You simply hummed not pushing too much on the object. It didn't look like he wanted to talk much about it.

''I think we have enough for now. Let's buy them !''

You gazed at the raindrops interrupting the peaceful reflection of your face on the blurry window. It was particularly cold today, gray clouds snatching the sunrays from the city while its people ran down the streets to cover themselves from the water. To you, the scenery was simply gloomy.

A usual rainy day in Brooklyn.

You jumped as the doorbell of the store rang, pulling you out of your train of thought. You relaxed after realizing it was only a client. You were only 3 in the shop. You being the cashier, the man who had just crossed the door and Miles hanging upside down next to you while playing a ball.

''What's up with you? You've been daydreaming since morning.''

It had been 3 weeks since this Miles arrived from Earth 1610 and you had nearly spent all of your time with him. 

Well, it's not as if you had a choice since he lived in your apartment, but it didn't change the you two had gotten extremely close. You were hanging out every day. One time at the coffee shop and another time watching a movie while trying hairstyles on his hair. Just like yesterday.

You couldn't deny your attachment that had grown for him. Hell, just thinking about him made your heart flutter and you would find yourself stuck with a stupid grin on your lips.

At first, you kept comparing him with your ex. His accent, his gesture, what he liked and what he disliked. He didn't speak as much Spanish, he wasn't as mysterious and cold. But as time passed, you found yourself more and more drawn by this new Miles. He was more expressive, affectionate, supportive and careful with you. He knew how to make you laugh no matter the situation and you two shared multiple interests. 

You weren't oblivious. You quickly understood that the boy was slowly stealing your heart. But that doesn't mean you were ready for it.

You were used to feeling love with pain. To push and pull kind of relationship. To toxic and aggressive feelings. To spend the night worrying about your lover and only to find him bleeding the next day. To cry alone at night then drown your sadness in your boyfriend's arms for a few minutes before you had to separate again to go to school. 

But with Mile Morales, everything was different. It was sweet, warm and solacing. He was always next to you at night and he was careful with you in daylight. You felt protected and you weren't sleeping next to a criminal anymore. 

This was so different, but you liked it.

''I just didn't get much sleep last night.'' 

The taller jumped back to his feet before getting closer to you. He looked at your face carefully, worry painted all over his own features.

''I shouldn't have kept you up all night, sorry.''

You looked up at him with a chuckle before flicking his forehead softly.

''No, it was funny. You looked really cute with those coloured rubber bands in those cornrows I did,'' you teased, facing him.

He frowned before a tiny pout took over his mouth. It was nearly imperceptible but it was there.

''I looked like a kid. How am I supposed to be big and scary with that in my hair.''

You burst out laughing, the memory from last night coming back to you. You had told him you would braid his hair since he wanted to try something new but he ended up removing them because 'they were too tight, and his scalp was too soft for all that'. You knew he just wanted to remove the rubber bands.

''I'm still mad at you for destrpying my beautiful work.''

He smirked getting closer, reducing the space between you two.

''Don't be upset tesoro, what will I do if you are mad at me ?''

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, like it had done for the past weeks, and you looked away, to hide your shy smile. However, before you could answer, you heard a gun cocking right in front of you.

You slowly looked up, to find a riffle pointed right to your face. Your heart dropped as you failed to understand whatever the client from earlier was screaming.

''Open the cash register and gimme the bills,'' when he noticed your lack of reaction, he brought the gun closer to your forehead. ''Hurry the fuck up !''

However, before the stranger could try anything else, the gun was knocked out of his hands and his arms were joined together by web.

Everything passed in a flash and Miles quickly neutralize him and called the police. And if he gave a few unnecessary punches to the man, as he was already tied up, you didn't mention it. It was Miles' way to get back at the man and make him regret pointing his gun at you.

Before you could even realize what happened, the boy was in front of you, holding you tight by the elbow, checking up on you for the second time in less than 10 minutes.

''How are you feeling,'' he whispered, his low voice vibrating in your ear.

''G-good.''

Your voice left you like a whisper, still shaken by the event.

You had encountered multiple... ominous situations in this city. But being held at gunpoint and knowing your life was in the hands of a stranger was different. You realized how lucky you were to have Miles at your side at this exact moment and your eyes watered.

The boy read right through the facade you were trying to keep up, as he noticed your shivering and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, dragging you against himself.

''Come here precious.''

You tightened your hands around the low of his back, losing yourself in the warmness and the comfort of his embrace. You felt safe and the panic was slowly soothed away from you.

''Feeling better ?''

You nodded, slowly, face still hidden nestled in the crook of his neck.

''How come there's so much crime in this city,'' he sighed, caressing the back of your neck to bring you more comfort.

''We don't have Spiderman here, you know,'' you muttered, finally finding the energy to spill some words.

Your words were muffled by his skin and you felt him shiver at the sensation of your lips against his neck.

''Right.''

You expected him to laugh at your words so you looked up at him, frown plastered on your face.

''Are you mad ?''

His expression softened when he noticed you scowl and he shook his head.

''No,'' he rested his chin on top of your head. ''I just don't like the idea of you living all these years without anyone to protect you.''

You ignored the butterflies that invaded your stomach as his sentence, your lips growing into a grin against the crook of his neck.

''I'm not a damsel in distress.''

Miles only hummed, not letting go of you.

''Yeah, if you say so, preciosa.''

Everything was going perfectly. You and Miles were slowly finding more clues on how to send him back to Earth 1610 and by then, old Miles was already far in your memory.

You couldn't but wonder how unusual that was. You weren't used to just living peacefully. There was always something going on.

And you weren't wrong to feel so suspicious.

You were walking down the street as it was getting darker outside. 

Again.

You had to stay a few more hours at school to finish a group project and you hadn't realized how much time had passed. You cursed under your breath, remembering what happened the last time you found yourself walking for such an hour outside.

Not wanting to get in such a situation again, you accelerated until you arrived on the street where you live. You sighed, relieved, but before you could take your keys, a large hand caught your elbow, dragging you into the alley behind your apartment. You were pinned against the bricked wall and clenched your eyes shut, groaning at the impact.

What's with the people of this city and walls? Damn.

However, when you glanced at whoever seized you so brutally, your heart sank. You had completely forgotten about him and you had never expected him to come back.

''Miles.''

Your ex smirked staring up and down at your silhouette before licking his lips. A shiver travelled down your body at his action.

''Happy to see me mami ?''

You two made eye contact and you were hauled. His gaze was still as piercing as you remembered and it brought back unwanted memories. However, you suddenly blinked, waking up from your stupor and averted your eyes from the imposing male. Your expression turned sour and you tried to push him away, unsuccessfully.

''Leave me alone, Morales.''

He chuckled, taking a step forward to reduce the space between both of your bodies.

''So that's what we are doing now ?''

You kept your lips sealed and turned your head to the side as an answer. However, his fingers slid behind your neck, using his thumb to shift your head back to him.

''Look at me when I talk to you.''

''What do you want ?''

He rose his eyebrow at the dryness of your tone, still not used to such an attitude from you.

''I don't need a reason to see yah princesa.''

''I don't have time for this, move.''

Miles clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening at your words.

''Watch your tone.''

''Or what ?'' you raised your eyebrow at him with a bored expression. Two months ago, you would have never talked to him like that. But right now, you couldn't care less. You wanted to go home, take a shower and cuddle with your Miles. You were too tired for all that.

Your ex-boyfriend visibly took a deep breath and closed his eyes to calm himself down. You could see the frustration growing in him. But you didn't expect what he would say next.

''Who's that guy you've been hanging out with lately ?''

You froze at the question.

''What the- have you been following me ?''

''I asked you a question,'' Miles repeated louder this time.

''It's none of your business.''

''I'm being nice and you don't wanna try me. I don't like you talking to other guys and you know that.''

You scoffed at his nerve. Why was he acting like you were his or something?

''What part don't you understand in 'we're done' ?''

He took a deep breath and pinched his nose.

''Look, I fucked up mami. Lo sé and I hate myself for it. But I let you have some space for two months already, te necesito.''

''Miles, I don't love you anymore.''

He froze for a second but you could see him gulp slowly.

''I know you, stop playing hard to get.''

You rested your hand against your forehead tired of this situation already. 

''Are you being serious ?'' he asked again in disbelief.

But instead of answering, you pushed him back and this time, he didn't resist. 

''I'm leaving.''

''Where do you think you are going ?''

''Hopefully to my new boyfriend,'' you answered. Being honest was probably the only way to force him away from you.

''You don't want to do this,'' he said darkly. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his hand on his chin. You had never seen him so mad. ''I'm warning you.''

You shook your head with a sigh before ignoring him and entering your apartment. You knew he was saying empty words. Your ex would never dare to hurt you directly. He could cheat, and lie but never harm you intentionally.

That's what you thought at least.

Arriving in your room, you find your new Miles sitting at your desk, sketching something on a sheet. 

''Preciosa, you are finally here.''

You nodded with a tired smile.

''You're not sleeping yet ?''

He shook his head, leaning back on the chair and spreading his leg to be more comfortable. ''Nah, was waiting for you."

You raised an eyebrow at his position before throwing a shoe at him that he easily caught with one hand.

''Stop the manspreading in my room.''

He laughed before telling you to come closer. You obeyed and your eyes fell on the drawing he was making. 

It was you.

And it was you in a way you had never seen before. You looked...magnificent.

Your breath got stuck in your throat and couldn't help but wonder if that's how the boy saw you. 

All the stress you got from meeting your ex evaporated from your body as you sat on Miles' thighs and one of his hands rested on yours.

''It's beautiful.''

He hummed. ''When the muse is already gorgeous, it makes everything easier.''

Your heart jumped at the compliment and you pressed your head against his, running your thumb down his cheek as he kept drawing.

''Careful, you'll make my fro flat,'' the boy muttered, still focused on his sketch.

''I'll brush it out for you later,'' you giggled, continuing your ministration on his face.

A few more seconds passed and only the soft sound of a pencil running on paper filled the silence surrounding you. All until the boy broke the ice.

''I've always wanted to ask but...what's your relationship with Miles from here ?''

You gulped at this sudden question. Did he saw...what happened outside?

''Why you wanna know that ?''

Noticing your defensive reaction, he shook his head softly.

''Hey, I'm not forcing you to tell me, I was just wondering since you know...he never tried to contact you since I arrived. I kind of assumed you two were close since you recognized me in my suit. ''

You relaxed at his explanation.

''Oh, uh we were friends, but we had an argument and haven't really talked since.''

You didn't want to think about the guy anymore and ruin this wonderful moment. You hoped your Miles wouldn't mind the white lie you had just spitted out. 

Hopefully, the taller didn't seem to question you more and quickly changed the conversation.

It had been two weeks since your encounter with your ex and everything was going better than ever. Your mom had just left for a trip and the house was left to you and Miles. You woke up to the sound of the plate coming from the kitchen.

Loud sounds.

When you arrived in the living room, you found Miles throwing water in a pan which contained burning eggs. Your mouth dropped.

''What are you doing ?''

He jumped at the sound of your voice before placing his hand on his chest right over his heart.

''Shit, don't scare me like that.'' He then looked at the mess he had created and scratched the back of his neck. ''Uh...I was trying to make breakfast.''

You looked at him, still devoid of words before bursting out laughing.

''And you managed to burn eggs? How do you even burn eggs ?''

You shook your head taking the pan out of his and putting it in the sink.

''What I am going to do with your Miles.''

He pouted following closely behind you like a lost puppy.

''It's the meaning that matters ?''

You glared at him before seeing the opened bag of flour next to you. You smirked before grabbing some and throwing it in his face.

''Hey !''

He retaliated by taking the closest thing to him, which was a raw egg and throwing it on your shirt.

A gasp was heard.

''You did not just do that.''

''Oh, I did. ''

Soon, it turned into a food war, and your enjoyment could be heard by the mix of yells and laughers coming from the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Miles caught the back of your thighs and sat you on the table, before resting between your legs.

''Caught you.''

You laughed gaily, before getting closer to his face with a raised eyebrow.

''What do you want champion? A kiss as a price ?''

Yet, instead of joking back as you expected, the boy only gulped. That's when you noticed the small space separating both of your faces. 

You liked your lips, anxious at his silence and his eyes followed your tongue before slowly travelling back to your nose and your eyelashes. He then closed his eye and shook his head to compose himself.

''The stuff you make me think, preciosa.''

Your mouth dried out at his words and you bit your lips.

''Like what ?''

''I can't say it.''

He averted his eyes from you once again but you stopped him before he could lean away.

''Then show me,'' you whispered.

He widened his eyes as his breath brushed against your lips. You saw as he tried to hold himself back but the intense burning in his eyes showed you that he wanted exactly what you wanted.

''Fuck it.''

He leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours and you automatically responded, sighing in delight.

Finally.

Your lips moved in synchronization and you felt euphoric. After a few seconds, he leaned away, his dark eyes travelling onto your face as if he wanted to capture to moment and carve it in his mind forever.

''You don't know how much I've wanted this."

''Me too,'' you whispered before your mouths found each other again.

You kissed and kissed. For how long, you didn't know. But all you knew is that it felt too good and it only felt like a few seconds before you separated again.

Miles licked his lips and let out a breath.

''That was -wow.''

''Yeah...'' you whispered trying to catch your breath, a bit dazzled by what had just happened.

''I made you this breathless already,'' he laughed before you punched him on the shoulder.

''Shut up !''

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist.

''I would love to kiss you more, but I think we need to clean this up first.''

You followed his eyes and noticed the mess you two had created.

''Yeah...''

He carried you back on the floor and you two got to work. Eventually, you realized you needed more cleaning products and you went to the store while he continued cleaning.

On the way, you kept touching your lower lip with a stupid smile stuck on your face. Miles made you feel all sorts of things and infatuation was the main one. You were already excited to get back home and continue the unfinished business.

The trip to get more cleaning products was fast and soon, you were back at your apartment.

But bliss goes away as fast as it comes, doesn't it ?

When you opened the door to your apartment to find that the living room was a mess. 

But not the mess you had left in the kitchen. 

A people having a physical fight kind of a mess. The armchair was knocked down, the table was broken and the pillows were ripped. 

''Miles ?'' you yelled but received no answer.

Your heart raced as you rushed to look in the different rooms of your home, but there wasn't any living soul.

What the heck was happening?

When you arrived in your room, there was still no one.

But as you were going back to the kitchen, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on your window. 

Exactly like the one your ex used to leave.

From afar, you could even recognize his writing. You snatched it and for the first time, you decided to read it.

Your heart sank at the words.

''I warned you.''

Don't hesitate to comment or reblog, I read everything <33

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