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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

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Hey I have an idea for "Get Off My Screen" what if Y/N starts talking to Vox less and less and he is so confused so he goes through her phone to try and figure it out and sees her Instagram announcing a new bf and Vox is soooo jealous but she basically ignores his protests and so life goes on as normal for them both until one day he gets nosy and checks her texts on her phone with her bf and finds nudes from her and then he gets annoyed and lectures her about it which leads to her getting angry and ignoring him but then a few weeks later he checks Y/N and the bf's chats again and sees him threatening her

On a completely unrelated note I luv this series and also definitely need a Vox of my own in my phone cause I can't write or spell for shit lol

You Could Do Better(With Me)

Protective!Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of Alcohol, Nudes, Blackmail, Manipulation

A/N: Okay this was actually pretty angsty, more on Vox's side because he's just dealing with a lot of emotional whiplash- most of which he doesn't really deal with well but he powers through it to be there for you. At this point in time he's kind of certain he likes you, but not that he loves you. Kind of like the: "Oh I'm really fond of this person, I want to make sure they're safe and happy." Without realizing the romantic implications nor how deep the level of attachment really is. So far, Reader's only kind of had a puppy-love crush on Vox but has blatantly disregarded it because well- Vox is fucking dead so what the hell are you supposed to do?? That and Vox constantly gets on Reader's nerves with his shenanigans so even if she gets the Cupid valentines filter when he cranks up the charisma- his stupid hijinks quickly do away with it and make him seem idiotic(cutely) again. The story also has a lot of emotional stuff so if you'd rather stick to the comedy feel free to skip this interlude and the one directly after it.

A/N: Either way, that's currently the pace these two are at- and this is a songfic! If you want to listen to the tune while reading- here it is! "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. The story itself is slightly different from the prompt since I made it centered around how Vox perceived things were going. As always, I hope y'all have fun and enjoy! Happy Reading!

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Vox wanted to pretend everything was okay.

Walking through the halls of the Vee tower, he really wanted to play it off like nothing was bothering him.

And still, he found himself checking his phone for any updates or messages from you.

Day by day you were starting to slowly disappear from his routine.

He didn't notice it at first, how you were pulling away-

It was just the little things initially.

One word replies, emoji spam-

Vox figured you just weren't in the mood to listen or talk.

Did he do something that hurt you?

Up until the point that you both didn't really have any meaningful conversations anymore.

Which, as much as he tried to start anything proper-

It would always fall flat.

Were you still even trying?

He woke up one morning and followed his routine, shooting you a greeting before he started the day.

It just so happened that once he was finally able to check his phone to shoot you a wish goodnight-

You hadn't even replied to his morning message.

He was busy throughout the day, so he wasn't given the opportunity to worry about you.

But now, worry he did.

Vox quickly made his way towards his monitor room despite how late it was.

He went through your files, your pictures-

Wait.

Wait a goddamn minute.

Who the fuck was that?

He glitched slightly when he saw how that guy grinned in the picture.

It reminded him of his own, just so fucking fake.

Not to mention the air the person had around them.

They just exuded a great sense of showmanship and arrogance.

One Vox was all too familiar with.

That wasn't even the first picture you had with that person recently.

And the more the overlord looked, the more worked up he got.

He wasn't sure if it was anger, envy, irritation, or just a mix of everything under the sun.

Holding your waist, hugging you close, in some pictures your faces were so close together that you were almost kissing.

He was glitching in his chair from the emotional overload.

Who did this guy think he was to be able to treat you like that?!

Vox definitely punched a few screens from fury and jealousy.

Come the next day when he confronted you about it-

More like became a clear pain in the ass that you really couldn't ignore-

Making your computer practically unusable even-

Was when you revealed to him that you didn't mean to hide something like this.

You just simply forgot to say anything.

Vox didn't know if that was worse than if you tried to deceive him.

"Geez, so you have a boyfriend now?"

"Oh come on, you act like I'm not allowed to date. I'm a responsible adult Vox, not a kid."

The tech overlord only stared at the screen.

Was that really all you saw him as?

A digital guardian?

Just... someone who treated you like a kid?

He scoffed, he could count more times where he was the childish one.

That was stupid.

Besides that, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

What was this... horrible sinking feeling that was running through his systems?

It was like a weight that made him struggle breathing.

"Vox?"

"I'm still here. Can't believe you would forget to tell me something as important as this."

His claws dug into his armrests, he should've been happy you found yourself a partner.

If that partner just didn't remind him so much of himself.

"I'm sorry okay? I was really busy the last few days."

"The last few days? How long have you even been talking to this guy dollface?"

"Months? Probably? I've known him for a while now, he was the school crush when I was back in high school."

Vox wanted to convince you that this guy was bad news.

A walking red flag if you will.

He... should know.

Vox was at least aware of himself that much.

Still, he swallowed it all back and just replied to you again.

"I don't mind the fact you're off the market, hell- congratulations even! Just don't get into any sketchy shit. You know, anything that could be used against you as blackmail."

"Yeah yeah, I know what I'm doing Vox. Seriously, don't worry about it!"

You simply brushed off his worry, typical.

That just made the suffocating feeling even worse.

He didn't even know where it came from, or why.

"Oh yeah! I've got a boyfriend now!"

Those words replayed in his head like a bullet to the skull.

The day hadn't even started.

And Vox already wished it was over.

This just continued for a while, your presence in his schedule became negligible and Vox was falling back into his old vices.

He became snappy, irritable, just downright intolerable to be around.

The employees were feeling it, the Vees were collateral-

Not even Valentino could placate Vox's current horrid state.

It's been a week.

Vox stopped bothering to message you in the morning.

But he didn't stop checking if you would message him even once or twice.

It was pathetic.

And another.

Vox broke more than a dozen phones from just throwing them around.

He drank himself to sleep every night.

Valentino and Velvette were getting tired of having to dump his wasted ass on his bed every time.

And another.

Vox holed himself up in his monitor room whenever he wasn't needed.

No one could get him to come out.

Not even for food or water.

If he needed anything he would get it himself.

It was a long day of broadcasts and meetings, another monotonous cycle in his fast-paced life.

Vox intended to just drink until he passed out again, but he somehow found himself drunkenly stumbling through the halls of the Vee Tower into his monitor room.

He honestly didn't even know what he was doing this time.

The overlord fought to keep his own head up as he collapsed in his chair.

He glanced over to the side your computer's screen was connected to and let out a shaky sigh.

God, he fucking missed you.

Against his better judgement, Vox connected himself to your devices again.

He went straight to your playlist and just pressed start.

Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor~

Vox spun around in his chair, letting the music ebb and flow into his brain.

He took another swig from the bottle of alcohol in his other hand, squinting at the screens.

Everything was just kind of fuzzy.

Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore...

It took him by surprise when one of the screens showed your living room.

Had you connected him to your TV again?

"Vox...? Are you there?"

And I wonder if I've ever crossed your mind?

He was too out of it to properly say anything, Vox couldn't recall if the words that stumbled out of him were even coherent.

"Dude... you look like shit."

Listening to your voice gave him a slight moment of sobriety.

"Likewise dollface."

For me it happens all the time...

"Are you wasted??"

"Erm, not really. Just buzzed."

He was able to take a good look at you then, your eyes were red and puffy like you'd just been crying.

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now...

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Uh... well... you know that guy I was dating?"

Vox took a swig of alcohol before he replied, there was no way he was making it through his conversation unless he was drunk out of his circuits.

"My personality copycat? Yeah, what about?"

Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost all control-

"Your personality- what??"

"Dollface, do you seriously think I wouldn't notice how much of a walking red flag that asshole was?"

You paused as he took another swig of his drink, Vox didn't miss that look of guilt and pity in your eyes.

"But you just called him your copy."

"And? I know I'm a piece of shit. Takes one to know one."

And I need you now...

"Whatever, I don't think you'd stoop as low as he did."

"That's for me to judge, what did the bastard do?"

He saw the slight tremble in your posture, your voice cracked as if you were holding back sobs.

And I don't know how I can do without-

"I- I knew I should've listened to you. I sent him compromising pictures and he... he-"

"You sent him nudes and he used them to blackmail you didn't he?"

You flopped back down on the couch and his unfocused eyes met your watery ones.

So that's why you'd been crying.

I just need you now...

"It doesn't feel good to have your trust broken by someone you gave your heart to I'd reckon."

You scoffed at him, wiping away your tears as they continued to fall.

Vox so badly wanted to make it stop, but he didn't trust himself to be lucid enough to say the right words.

"Well wouldn't you know? I'd bet the women over there would throw themselves at your feet."

Another shot of whisky, can't stop looking at the door...

Vox couldn't tell if it was his imagination or not that made it seem like he heard jealousy in your voice.

There wasn't any reason for you to feel envious anyway.

He took another swig of alcohol before meeting your gaze once again.

Wishing you'd come sweeping, in the way you did before~

"So what if there are? I'm too busy to pursue a dedicated relationship. I mean- have you seen the amount of shit I have to deal with every day?"

You looked dejected by his answer, or at least that's what Vox thought.

Yeah, he was absolutely wasted.

And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

"So what did you do? Did you break up with the guy?"

"Can't. If I do, he'll release all my pictures online."

Vox hummed, pulling up a window on your computer for you to interact with.

He was a paranoid man as is, but this just proved it didn't hurt to have precautions in place.

For me it happens all the time...

"What is that?"

"Something I made for all your files months ago."

"What does it do?"

Vox took another swig from his bottle.

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now...

"A safeguard, all files you send from your devices can be irreversibly corrupted remotely. An encryption thing, I tried to tell you about it but you didn't respond."

He wasn't surprised that you pressed the prompt to start the file corruption process on those pictures you'd sent.

Hell, everything you sent the rat bastard that broke your heart.

Honestly, the fucker didn't even deserve you.

Neither did Vox if he had to be honest with himself.

Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control-

The overlord stayed silent as he drank once more from his bottle of booze.

It was nearly empty at this point, not that he cared.

He could only assume you were watching the progress bar load which was why you didn't say anything.

And I need you now...

Vox just watched as you eventually got up and used your phone to call someone.

A smug smile worked onto his face when he realized who you were talking to.

After all, you'd only curse like a sailor when you were genuinely mad.

And I don't know how I can do without-

"You're kind of hot when you get angry you know?"

"Pfft, is that why you like to piss me off then?"

"Maybe, though I usually do just to get a reaction out of you anyways."

I just need you now...

Vox saw you roll your eyes, a smile finally gracing your face and he couldn't help but return it.

"I just became single again and you're already hitting on me huh?"

"Whaaaaat? I would never."

Vox humored you well into the morning hours.

The both of you talking once again like old times.

Like nothing even happened.

Eventually it got to the point you had fallen asleep on the couch right in front of the TV during one of Vox's stories.

The overlord let a soft genuine smile appear on his face at the sight.

At least you were okay again.

He swirled the remaining alcohol in the bottle and threw his head back as he downed the rest of it.

Finally feeling the exhaustion catch up to him, both emotionally and physically-

Vox's screen dimmed as he succumbed to slumber right alongside you in his chair.

A/N: HOOOOLY SHIT THIS CHAPTER IS LONG- this was an absolute UNIT of a segment but it gets better in the next one I promise, besides- I don't want to doom Vox and Reader by the narrative, that would just be a sucky ending. We'll still have more emotionally vulnerable stuff in the next interlude so if that's not your cup of tea feel free to skip it too.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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objectumnonsense · 6 months

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robot oneshot, as requested VwV

The lab was dark, save for the dim neon light filtering in through the curtains and a singular work lamp in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a train passed overhead, making the ceiling groan with the weight, but it was otherwise quiet. The lab's only two occupants sat without speaking, one in maintenance mode on a table and the other wearing thick, elbow-length rubber gloves and wielding a variety of delicate tools.

The Mechanic worked diligently and in near silence, save for softly humming a tune and occasionally blowing their hair out of their face while they worked on SN-0407-67. The only sounds coming from 67 were the hum of its fans and the occasional buzz of a wire being put in the wrong place, quickly corrected by the Mechanic.

After about half an hour, the Mechanic said, in a voice rough with disuse, "Exit maintenance mode," and a line of small lights blinked to life on the back of 67's neck. Its shutters flicked open and it turned its head right around to face the Mechanic.

"Is there a problem?" it buzzed.

"Well, I don't wanna catastrophize, but I'm lookin' through your lower back complex and I'm seein' some stuff that looks an awful lot like buzz bug eggs. Can you run a diagnostics check for me real quick?"

"Affirmative." In a blink of its shutters, it received data from all of its main systems and most of its secondary and tertiary programs and responded.

"Small loop errors in primary memory arrays. Minimal damage to recursive power wiring. Buzz bugs may be a possibility. Suggestion: analyze sample of offending material."

"Will do. Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Negative. We are almost done, correct?"

"If this don't turn out to be an infestation, yeah. What's got you so eager to leave?"

"Nothing. I simply do not enjoy being in maintenance mode for extended periods of time."

"Oh? Why's that?"

67 turned back around and allowed the Mechanic to pry open its back panel and delicately reach through its wiring with a pair of tweezers.

"I dislike being unaware of my surroundings for so long. It is against my purpose."

"It's necessary though, ain't it?"

"As is sleeping. But you are avoiding that now."

"Fair 'nuff."

The silence returned for a few minutes. The Mechanic extricated some pieces of material from 67's wiring and the gaps in their chassis while it sat perfectly still and nearly silent.

Abruptly, a small yellow light on their shoulder lit up and they said, "Your heart rate and breathing have increased."

"Huh?"

"Are you in distress? Is the infestation worse than you expected?"

"Oh, no, nothin' like that. If this is buzz bugs, we caught 'em real early. I could probably get all of this outta you before dawn."

"That is good."

They continued without speaking for a few moments more, the yellow light still turning on and off rhythmically, before 67 spoke up again.

"Your heart rate has not decreased."

"And I suppose I can't ask you to ignore that?"

"Negative. It is against my purpose."

"Right. First aid robot."

The Mechanic pursed their lips and tried to continue their work, but 67 kept talking.

"You hands are shaking slightly. Allow me to check your blood sugar content."

Before the Mechanic could respond, 67 had already completed the check.

"Blood sugar content within healthy range. Brain scan indicates higher than normal levels of oxytocin. Heart rate and breathing rate are increased, but have plateaued."

"Can't keep anythin' secret from you, huh?"

"Negative. You have poor control over your responses to emotion."

"Well, can't say I didn't try."

"Correct. You are still avoiding telling me the reason for your heightened emotional state."

"Would it hurt so bad to let this one go unmentioned?"

"A key to maintaining healthy relationships is communication between constituents. I am curious why you are acting differently."

"It's... complicated. It's a human thing."

"Mechanic, "human things" are my area of expertise. I will understand whatever you tell me."

"I just..." They sighed, but set their tweezers aside and brushed their fingers along a piece of 67's circuitry. "Can you feel this? When I'm workin' on you?"

"To an extent, yes."

"And does it... hurt?"

"Not unless something is damaged. It feels almost the same as when my exterior is touched."

"Almost?"

"There is a level of... trust involved. I trust that you will not break me, you trust that I will not close myself or shock you to injure you."

"When I do this..." the Mechanic traced the column of 67's spine with their index finger, "what is that like?"

"I fail to see why you are asking me again. Did I not just explain it?"

"I know, I know, just.. tell me what you feel me doin'."

"Alright."

A moment's pause.

"I feel you touching the outer shell of my spine. It holds much of my central processing power, which is why it's covered by thick metal plating. But I know you will not try to damage it."

"And now?"

"Now you're moving towards my power cell. It's a very powerful battery, and very fragile. But you will not damage it."

"Now?"

"You're reaching up through my chest cavity towards my transform arrays. This is where most of my proprioceptive senses are processed. It's also highly sensitive to touch. But you will not damage it."

The Mechanic let out a shaky sigh. The blinking yellow light on 67's shoulder began flashing more quickly. They noticed it was in time with their heartbeat.

"Your breathing and heart rate have increased steadily. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

They abruptly pulled their hand out of 67's back and stammered an apology.

"Sorry, I'm - sorry, that - that was kinda weird. I shouldn'ta -"

"It was not unpleasant."

Their words ground to a halt and they stared at the back of 67's head.

"You... motherfucker, you knew this whole time, didn't you?"

67 made a beep that sounded like a laugh.

"Negative. I only realized when I scanned you."

The Mechanic leaned their head against 67's shoulder with a clunk.

"And I couldn't get you to delete this whole interaction from your memories?"

"Negative."

The Mechanic sighed again and leaned back, rubbing their temples.

"Well, that's about it for your checkup anyways. We should probably get goin'."

"Mechanic, I would not refuse if you wanted to take this further."

The Mechanic froze. "Whuh?"

"I do not have the capacity to feel it the same way you do. But I understand it would be enjoyable for you. My purpose, after all, is to ease suffering."

"Wh - but - I - I'm not sufferin' about it, I just -"

"Mechanic."

67 rose and walked around the table, standing very close to the Mechanic and resting a careful hand on their hip. They swallowed thickly.

"We are the only ones in here. We have time."

The Mechanic let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. They raised a hand to 67's face plate and brushed their thumb along it.

"You're amazin', you know that? Just... incredible."

"I know," 67 replied, a playful lilt in its voice. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any point."

"Alright."

67 stepped even closer so that one of its legs was between both of the Mechanic's and they had to lean back against the table. One of their hands rested on 67's shoulder and the other settled on its hip.

67 hooked a thumb over the Mechanic's waistband and tugged down. Its other hand worked its way up their shirt and cupped their chest. It leaned its head down and bonked it gently on the top of theirs.

"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

"Affirmative."

"You're such a dork."

67 hummed. Its movements remained smooth and steady, but the Mechanic distinctly heard its cooling fans pick up when it tugged their underwear aside.

"Could it be you're enjoyin' this too, 67?" they purred, lifting the hand that was on its shoulder to the back of its head, where they brushed over some of the exposed wires there. Its lower shutter twitched upwards.

"You do look... very nice. Under me like this."

"Mmm. Kinky." They spread their legs further and gasped when 67's searching hands found their bare skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's just been a while. Go slow."

"Understood."

Gently, 67 started working its hand, and the Mechanic let out a quiet groan. They rolled their hips into 67's touch, grip tightening on its neck and making its shutter twitch again.

"Is - fuck - is that hurtin' you?" they asked.

"Negative."

"Want me to - to stop?"

"Nnegative."

At the stalling of 67's voice, the Mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Is it gettin' you off or s-something?

"N N N N - Unsure. My proproprocessor has encountered an error."

Experimentally, the Mechanic chose a wire and tugged on it - not enough to break it, but with enough force to pull it partially out of line. 67 jolted forward, making a buzzing sound the Mechanic had never heard before, and its hand dug harshly into their flesh, making them gasp.

"Arrre you alright?" it asked, stopping all motion. The Mechanic whined and pushed against its hand.

"Don't stop," they pleaded.

"One moment. I nnneed to check -"

The Mechanic tugged on the same wire again, creating the same reaction, and sighed with satisfaction.

"Memememechanic," 67 scolded, though the effect was somewhat lost due to the skipping in its voice.

"Keep goin'. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Make me."

The defiance caught the Mechanic off guard, but only for a moment. They glared up at 67.

"Y'know, you're real disobedient for a robot," they growled, finding a different wire and wrapping it around their finger. 67's shutters closed completely this time, its entire body jerking randomly for a moment before the Mechanic let the wire go again. "I thought you were s'posed to follow directions?"

"Youyouyou haven't said the magic word yet," 67 replied, though their hand had begun to move again.

"Make me cum, 67. That's an order."

"Affirmativvve."

The Mechanic cried out at the dizzying pace 67 suddenly set, hips rocking helplessly into its touch. Its name flowed from their lips like a hymn. 67 bore down on them, chest pressed to theirs, free hand supporting their back so they didn't fall.

"Yesyesyesyes, just like that, yes -!"

With a drawn-out moan, the Mechanic came hard, slumping back so that 67 had to adjust its hold on them, completely at its mercy as it kept up the harsh pace of its hand. It slowed to a stop the moment the feeling became too much and their groans of pleasure turned into whimpers.

The pair stayed like that for a moment, the Mechanic struggling to catch their breath and clinging to 67, whose fans were still going at top speed. It stared adoringly down at them, privately recording a short clip to replay later.

"Holy shit," the Mechanic finally breathed, pushing themself upward off of 67's arm. "That was... wow."

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Jesus Christ. Are you... can I - is there anythin' I can do for you?"

"Negative. No part of me can experience anything close to sexual arousal, but I appreciate the consideration."

"So, just outta curiosity, what were the wires doin' to ya?"

That gave 67 pause.

"I'm... unsure. It's not a sensation I've ever felt before."

"Was it bad?"

"Negative. It was... novel. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"So what... would it be okay if I did it again?"

Another pause.

"...Affirmative. Please be careful."

"You know careful's my middle name."

The Mechanic lifted both of their hands and rested them on 67's neck. One slid its fingers over the exposed wires, still slightly out of place, making 67 beep and twitch.

"Why don't you try tellin' me what you feel?" they purred, finding a wire and winding it around their finger. 67 took a moment to respond, its voicebox making nonsense sounds before it could gather it to something intelligible.

"I I I I feel... dizzzzy? I think that wiwiwire has a role in proprioceptive data transfer. It's hard to to to to rrrecall at the moment."

"Mmm. And what about now?" the Mechanic asked, parting the wires and reaching deeper into 67's neck. They felt their finger make contact with cool metal, and 67 made a long, low tone until they lifted it.

"My my my my my centrrrral spinal casinnnnng. It's very sensensensitive to touch, which is is is why it's underrrrneath everything ellllse."

"You're startin' to sound pretty rough, 67."

"Hard to to to prrrocess speech at the momoment. Unsure how to parrrrse sensory dadadadata."

"Still don't want me to stop?"

"Affirrrmative. Want you you you touch furrrrther in me."

"Fuck, that's hot."

The Mechanic moved upward this time, under the plating on the back of 67's head with a muttered "keep your head down." 67's head briefly dropped limply downward, chin hitting its chest with a dull thunk, before the Mechanic hastily removed their hand and it looked back up at them.

"Why did you you stop?"

"That wasn't bad?"

"Negative. Want morrre."

"Oh, I see how it is." They resumed their probing, 67's head falling again, its voice struggling to express exactly what it was feeling.

"Hannnds in my in me touch ch ch ch mind feel I feel your hands," it managed, and the Mechanic bit their lip, looking up at it with adoration in their eyes.

"God, you sound fuckin' wrecked. I wish I knew I could do this to you sooner," they confessed. 67's optic flickered.

"Want want hands want touch morrre so so so much so want want want wannnnnnt -"

Abruptly, its voice dropped so low it was almost a buzz, its optic blinking out, hands in a vise grip on the Mechanic's hips while the lights on its body turned off all at once. Its fans continued on high for a moment more before they lowered to a more normal level and a noise like a dial-up played.

"Shit."

The Mechanic waited nervously while 67 rebooted, slowly releasing their hips before its optic blinked back to life, immediately zeroing in on them.

"Are you okay? Did I touch something I shouldn't've?"

"Negative. I am still processing. Please give me a moment."

After a second or two, 67 spoke again.

"Last sensation recorded before shutdown: foreign object inside cranial casing. Pressure applied to central tactile nerve. Systems overwhelmed." It blinked. "No memory lost. I am in no pain."

"So that tactile nerve thing -"

"I felt... everything. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. Don't worry."

"It was... good. I felt good. I would like to do this again sometime."

"Is right now a good sometime? 'Cause that was fuckin' hot."

67's optic widened slightly, disbelief creeping into its voice.

"Causing a temporary shutdown... made you aroused again?"

"It was more like making you get there. But yeah."

"Interesting. In that case..."

67 opened the maintenance panel on its chest, exposing a crisscrossing maze of wires and circuits to the Mechanic, who practically drooled.

"Help yourself to me."

#ty for your patience!#lmk what you thought... i havent really written anything creative in like four years '^^#nsft writing #wireplay #robophilia

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glorious-spoon · 4 days

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your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms.

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

#911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #buddie #bucktommy #my fic #i actually have no idea how to tag this pairing-wise lol #it is somehow both all and none of the above

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jiminjamms · 6 months

Text

sex therapy :: 22. little dark age

chapter tags/warnings: megumi is very mean but he's very uwu in the end. dad! toji. angsty! megumi. family drama. mentions of death. classism. strong language.

word count: 4.2k

notes: despite my long hours at work and the word count, I finished this update at a speed that impressed myself! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

The next morning, you woke up alone in Toji’s bed.

Sunlight filtered into the room through the lace curtains, the brash beams softened into a gentle glow, a cinnamon and honeysuckle candle flickering in the corner.

While you could be disappointed that Toji’s warm presence was not beside you, this was your chance to stretch out on the mattress and rub at your eyes, feeling the crisp sheets against your skin.

With your mind growing more alert, memories from last night made their way back into your mind: how Toji touched you, kissed you, fucked you, made you feel so sexy. Only he could make you feel like he was the luckiest man alive. That you were the only girl in the world.

Like an idiot, you curled into a smiling and giggling ball, kicking your feet in a flustered bout.

Even with six months of marriage under your belt, it was actually…weird, to remember sex as something enjoyable and fun, rather than an obligatory action.

Sure, Toji might view last night as normal given his abundant sexual endeavors in the past. But this was totally a different thing for you. Naoya had never bothered with ‘unnecessary acts’ like aftercare, after all.

Hell, he could not even care to look at you most nights.

Several weeks back, you would have been racked with guilt.

However, you have recently discovered a renewed sense of self-worth, a belief in your own agency and right to pursue happiness outside your tattered marriage. This was the realization that, if Naoya Zenin could feel like he could do whatever he wanted, you could too.

You could do better.

Toji had said so himself.

Not to mention, with Toji, you were heard.

You were understood.

With him, you were special.

Keeping these thoughts in mind, you practically hopped toward the bathroom and washed up, then skipped down to the lower level to search for him. Looking for him didn’t take long when the kitchen bustled the sounds of cupboards being opened then closed, the clatter of metal forks against porcelain plates.

You rushed in that direction, unconsciously smiling at how thoughtful Toji was to be preparing breakfast. He must be anticipating you to be awake soon (and how surprised he would be to see that you had risen from your slumber already!).

So you can imagine how disappointed you were when you turned into the kitchen doorway, ready to implode from giddiness, and Toji was not the person you saw.

Rather, you found Toji’s son.

Megumi did not even notice you at first.

He leaned over the kitchen island, his upper body shifted onto the one forearm that rested casually on the counter’s surface, his free hand swiping at his phone. His gaze was locked onto the device which was why he had not sensed your presence, instead occupied with reading his friends’ texts and chuckling to himself as he scrolled through the messages.

Megumi looked like a completely different person now that he wasn’t clearly pissed off.

The contrast was like night and day.

His morning appearance was remarkably neat. With the abundant lighting, his tall and fair features became clear, with sparkling dark eyes that glimmered like the evening sky. He had taken off his rings and been wrapped snugly in a baggy brown pajama set.

For once, he looked…soft and sweet, and when he laughed heartily at his screen, everything in his smile was a reminder that this young man was nothing but a kid in the end.

Briefly, you did not want to believe that this was the same anguished teenager you had encountered last night. All over, you searched for one singular flaw. A loose strand. A crack in his lips. A budding, rosy pimple. But, with Megumi, there was nothing.

How could this possibly be the same person who accused you of being a demon, who lashed at his father for thinking with his dick rather than his head? As you wondered how your plain presence could turn such an innocent boy into someone filled with contempt, your heart filled with chagrin.

“Yuuji, this bumbling idiot,” he snickered quietly at a video from his friends. As he pressed replay, he brutally stabbed an apple slice with his fork and popped that bit into his mouth. “If your older brother hasn’t already, Nobara is definitely going to whoop your ass.”

Still chuckling, he shifted his weight, leaning from one arm to another, and that…was when he spotted you.

Quickly, his grin fell flat.

“Oh,” you heard him mumble.

Even a half-brained goldfish could tell Megumi was horribly disappointed to see you here. He straightened up a bit, chalking up the invisible and seemingly impenetrable wall that you recognized from last night.

Megumi didn’t want to smile. He didn’t want to be your friend. For all he cared, you only stopped by for a few hours in his life, and he had no obligation or expectations to ever see you again.

So, with that, the atmosphere became thick and awkward.

Horribly awkward.

“H-Hey,” you uttered, unsure of what else to say as the gloomy teenager turned around toward the refrigerator and effectively ignored your presence.

He did a terrific job in avoiding your gaze as he reached for an orange juice carton and a new glass, pouring himself a drink in silence once he returned to the kitchen island. Since you were older, you shouldn't feel humiliated by how you were being treated like a fly on the wall by an eighteen-year-old.

Yet, you were.

Megumi made you feel irrelevant and insignificant, as though all idiosyncrasies that made you feel helpless in your marriage came to haunt you through him.

He could hardly bother to glance in your direction even as he downed his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did. Then, once his glass sat empty, he treated himself to another cup.

All in silence.

When Megumi finally decided that, fine, he could not simply pretend you didn’t exist forever, he turned to face you and asked, “Why are you still here?”

The question caught you unprepared, leaving you frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

Although Megumi didn’t roll his eyes on the spot (which probably demanded great self-control from himself), he leveled a piercing stare that bore right into yours. For a moment, his looks resembled his father’s greatly, but the intensity in his indigo eyes was nearly palpable, like a spear that grazed along your throat.

Instantly, your mouth dried at the scrutiny, his look disapproving and judgeful.

Perhaps you should head to the water cooler, hoping to rehydrate yourself and avoid his direct line of sight in the process. He left you unsettled with how he examined you with narrowed eyes, likely sending death wishes your way.

“I’m here because—”

You paused.

Here because your father and I fucked last night in the bathroom two doors down from you.

No. In times like these, honesty was not the best policy. Knowing this, you felt more exposed than ever in Megumi’s presence and tugged at your shirt collar to cover the dark marks on your neck, but the teenager had already seen them all.

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed, his eyelid twitching with irritation.

Megumi slammed his glass down in exasperation (which, to your amazement, did not shatter despite the force), and he stormed into the next room over.

His signs were clear that he would rather not spend another minute talking to you, but you persistently trailed behind him. There was still a lot to understand about him. At the very least, you would like to sort things out.

On the other hand, he wanted to avoid all that, escaping into the library. Even with your goal for conversation, you had to slow down in awe to admire the newly discovered space. A grand brick fireplace occupied the wall opposite the entrance, a magnificent woodblock painting hanging above the mantel as plush beanbag chairs encircled the hearth. Shelves crafted from dark cherry wood lined the rest of the vicinity's perimeter, showcasing not only an impressive literary collection but also antique figurines and framed family photos.

“Leave me alone,” Megumi deadpanned amidst your amazement. "My dad's busy on a call in his home office upstairs, but that doesn't mean you should be following me now."

He could never let up on you, could he?

“Well, no one ever said I was following you.”

“Yes, you totally are. Why else are you tailing me here?”

You shrugged. “Because this is a nice apartment, and I’m just exploring.”

“Well, I’m sure you live in a very nice place too, given who your husband is.”

A small part of you was still amazed at how publicized your life was given your ties to the Zenin Corporation’s CEO, but you had been growing accustomed to the attention in recent weeks.

“I like the aesthetics here, though. Drawing inspiration for my own place.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled in finality but did not miss how you stopped at one particular framed photo. Immediately, he rushed to your side, the proximity introducing you to his grapefruit fragrance that was accompanied by ambery cedar notes. Forcefully, he swung his sleeve in front of your face and hampered your view. “Nuh-uh! Don’t be nosy.”

“I’m not being nosy!” you protested. “That was your baby picture—”

“Yes, exactly. So, you are nosy,” said a Megumi trying to hide his embarrassment. “You’re a dreadfully nosy, horribly pushy, and appallingly insistent old snooper.”

“Old snooper?!”

Sure, you weren’t a high schooler anymore, but that didn’t mean you were old.

“Control yourself,” Megumi went on, ignoring how offended you have become. “You’re victimizing us all.”

While Megumi’s original mission was to slink away and enjoy his personal space, he now decided that he had to monitor your every movement instead, worried about what other awfully cute childhood photos you might come across if left alone. Knowing there was no use in arguing with a stubborn teenager, you took your gaze away from the photos and spotted a large maroon pennant plastered above the doorway.

“Oh, Harvard?” you asked,

“Yes, my dad completed his college degree there. Double major in economics in psychology,” he stated matter-of-factly, not that you were surprised. “That, and I’ll be starting school there this fall.”

“Oh, congratulations!" you praised (and questioned why Harvard would accept a cynic like him) before using this chance to make some meaningful conversation. "My husband also went to school in the United States as well. He could give advice about starting university in a foreign country. He went to—”

“Yes, Yale.”

Wow. Just how many hours did Megumi Fushiguro spend on Naoya Zenin's Wikipedia page? Obsessed much.

Creepy, even.

“Well, look who’s the snooper now,” you teased the boy, jokingly pointing out how he seemed to know more about you than you knew about him.

But perhaps, that was a terrible idea.

Megumi stopped, falling quiet as he turned back slowly to face you. His lips were pressed, as though he internally debated what charged and hateful thing to say next.

How dare you involve yourself in his matters? How dare you use his words against him? Arrogance was never a classy trait. So, how dare you challenge Megumi, an incoming freshman at one of the best universities in the world, while you were a sidepiece in Japan’s aristocracy.

You braced yourself, expecting a barrage of insults, until he asked, “Are you feeling better since yesterday night?”

Caught off guard, you froze, not sure if you heard him right.

Meanwhile, Megumi did not meet your gaze. He almost appeared ashamed to do so, regarding the nearby bookshelf instead, his long fingers running over the wooden engravings.

The room, once filled with apprehension, now held a rare glimmer—a shred of kindness that left you realizing how complex the teenager was.

To respect his space, you stayed put from where you stood, the library growing quiet while waiting for your answer.

“I am better, thank you for asking.”

While Megumi tilted his chin forward in thought, he still did not glance your way. He stayed silent for a long while, sucking on his teeth.

“Sorry,” the boy spoke up again. With his head hung low, he took in a deep breath through his nostrils before admitting, “I know I'm a complete asshole sometimes.”

This, naturally, was the last thing expected from the younger Fushiguro. Observing him from your position, you noticed how his features softened as he thumbed through the shelved pages of one book.

Was this real?

Five minutes ago, this was Angsty Megumi. The don’t-bother-me Megumi. The hated-your-fucking-guts Megumi.

Yet suddenly, he began apologizing. While Toji presumably had some influence in bringing about this change, Megumi appeared to mean what he said given his idle fidgeting.

The easier—and frankly, more childish—comeback was to make a scene and accuse him back. After all, Megumi’s slander and actions had torn a hundred gashes at your fragile heart, but you knew better than to hold grudges at your age. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Another silence, this break twice as long as the last. He continued to drill his stare into something far less interesting, but only because he seemed hesitant to speak more. His lips parted and then closed as he visibly fought with himself regarding his next words.

“This doesn’t mean I trust you, though.”

Oh. Just when you thought you advanced two steps ahead, you had merely been circling around square one. Right, you should have expected that because this was only the first time you two were holding some semblance of a civil dialogue. But, despite all this internal rationalization, that didn’t make your disappointment any less.

“That…is fair,” you replied, trying to mask the rejection in your tone though the defeatedness still bled through.

“Look,” Megumi started quietly.

He sighed and ran a hand down his dark hair. When he finally turned to you again, gone was the outright scorn that once dwelled in his eyes, replaced by a countenance far more sad. His lips pursed into a strained line, his forehead marked with concern, and brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“I don’t know what your intentions are. Just…please don’t hurt my dad.”

Your chest tightened.

Megumi could judge you for all he wanted, but you felt unfairly blamed. He had said something similar last night. What could you—a young and inexperienced housewife to the Zenin family, yourself with no real power—possibly do to hurt Toji?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The boy stared at his feet, rocking on his heels. “Dad’s been through a lot. All to protect me. But, as an unfortunate result, he had made several awful decisions in the past to the point I feel like I am the one watching out for him instead. Ever since my mother passed away, he had been a mess.”

Ever since his mother passed away.

While you were aware that Toji had an ongoing affair with ‘Tsumiki’s mom,’ you had not stopped before to think about Toji’s other past wife who must be Megumi’s mom, much less wrap your head around the possibility that the latter no longer existed in this world.

Not that you were to blame.

Toji, who preferred to keep many private matters to himself, didn’t mention his first wife in conversations before, her premature death being a likely reason.

This might be rude, but you had to ask, “What happened to your mother?”

Megumi had expected the question, putting on a front to seem tough and act as though the past didn’t bother him. Yet, pain flashed visibly across his face.

“Involved in an accident many years ago. She was an event coordinator and traveled to Canada to visit a vendor when she crossed an intersection, and then…”

He paused.

Even though you had an inkling about what he was to do next, adrenaline coursed through as Megumi raised his outstretched fingers and collided them to create the letter T.

“Boom. Gone.”

Your heart sank.

How come no one had ever mentioned this to you before?

While you could understand why Toji did not want to discuss this traumatic event, the other therapists never brought up their leader's tragic history either. Therefore, the realization wrecked you—to think about how a young woman’s life could vanish from an unpredictable freak accident, leaving behind a husband who could never tell his wife that he loved her one last time and a son who could never feel his mother’s tender affection again.

“That’s horrendous,” was the most appropriate reaction you could conjure to sum up your thousand thoughts. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”

Your voice trailed off.

Despite the time to process, you still didn’t know the proper verbiage. Only now were you scratching the surface regarding who Toji and Megumi Fushiguro truly were, and you could only wonder what else there was to know about them.

“Don’t say sorry to me.” Noticing your loss for words, Megumi had interjected. “I don’t remember much about my mom since I was seven when she passed, so not that I really care anyway.”

A lie. The teenager tried to seem unbothered, but his voice wavered. Even Megumi himself must have noticed how he began choking up a little, turning away to distract his sadness.

“My dad, though…” Megumi continued, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand the rest. “He truly loved my mom.” After propping his elbow against a nearby shelf, he rested his head on his palm and sighed. “He had given up everything just to be with her.”

Both warmth and sadness shone through like he was retelling a bittersweet story of star-crossed lovers—two people deeply in love yet destined to be apart.

“I see.”

“Dad has not been the same since,” the boy continued to explain. “He slept around a bunch and got charmed by some pretty lady. Blinded, my dad got married to her and life had been a living hell afterward—treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister—which forced my dad to raise her instead.” In the end, Megumi huffed loudly in exasperation and seethed in anger, his hands balled into fists that turned his knuckles white. “A fucking bitch.”

He’s talking about Tsumiki’s mom, you realized.

“They’ve gotten divorced, no?” you inquired, referring to Toji and his second wife.

“Thank all the Shinto gods, they did! About several months ago, yes. Would have taken their marriage certificate into my own hands if they hadn’t by now!” Megumi exclaimed, extending his hands out to rip an imaginary piece of paper for illustrative purposes. “That…That whore did my father really dirty during the years they were together. No, the craziest shit is that she continues to bother my dad all the fucking time.” Scoffing, he threw his arms into the air. “She’s got a new shiny boy toy, so why is she still trying to bother the ex-husband that she placed the divorce papers in front of?”

His eyes slid to observe you, as though he attempted to read through your thoughts or elicit some reaction. Therefore, when you did not, Megumi simply continued.

“I am this close,” he leaned forward, bringing his thumb and index closer just about together, “ this close to placing a restraining order on that lunatic. For my sake, for my stepsister Tsumiki’s sake, and for my father’s sake.” Then, he dropped his hands down in one long sigh. “Therefore, I hope you can understand why I have trust issues.”

With this newfound information, you finally understood why Megumi had been so hostile to you during your first few encounters with him. He had a good reason to be. With all these years gone by, he hadn’t seen anything good come out of his father’s escapades ever since his mother’s passing, and Megumi was desperate and determined to protect what he had left.

Like you, Megumi knew that Toji deserved none of this.

Toji did not deserve to agonize alone after his first wife’s untimely death, he did not deserve to be taken advantage of by his second wife who sought opportunity in his heart’s emptiness, and he did not deserve the suffering of having no one by his side to comfort him during these times.

Seriously, how could you possibly be complaining about bad sex to a man whose lowest lows tortured him far beyond your comprehension? Juxtaposing your therapist’s tragedy—from loss to grief to betrayal—against yours made your problems seem minuscule compared to the vast amount in his. Even though Toji suffered through many colossal heartaches, he still lived, smiled, and gave each day his all, living through the halcyon days of sunshine.

Meanwhile, Megumi stared at the ring that was already on your finger. “Are you going to marry my dad?"

Spit nearly catapulted past your mouth.

“What?” you blurted, dumbfounded.

“I don’t want another stepmother,” Megumi clarified, assuming that the answer to his question would be yes. “I just want a mother.” He crossed his arms and hugged himself, the loneliness evident in his orotund voice. “I…want to know what having a mom feels like again.”

You could feel and see, for the first time since you two met, the vulnerability that resided within Megumi. A side that would only come out whenever he thought about his childhood, which must have been filled with love, joy, and beautiful memories.

Seeing this made your heart tear with sympathy.

Because, in him, you saw a reflection of yourself.

“Back when I was in high school, my mother passed away after a long battle with kidney cancer,” you divulged, recognizing and validating his sorrow. "The immediate years after were extremely difficult for me because I had known my mother for so long in my life, and I sought a presence that could replace hers. My father, like yours, recognized my struggles and took it upon himself to fill my mother's shoes. Still, my mother cannot ever be replaced, and I similarly do not think I can completely substitute your mother either. But there is one thing for you to know: that my very last goal would be to hurt you and those you care about, Megumi.”

Words, you knew, did have the capabilities to mend the rift alone, so you took slow steps toward him. In the closed distance, the desolation in his eyes became more vivid, the ever-present struggle between his confused emotions and the barriers he fortified to protect himself and those he loved.

Without saying more, you tugged at his arm and pulled him into an embrace.

Beneath your hands, you could feel his shock.

He resisted at first, a subtle rigidity in his frame.

Gradually, however, those tense muscles in his body softened as he sunk in the warmth you provided him. His shoulders seemed to lower along with his guard, and he leaned into the hug. Not every issue may have been resolved, but at that moment, you found a common ground with Megumi that replaced the once-charged disagreements with a consolation transcending words.

“I only know a small part of your story, but I want to be here for you,” you whispered, voice a soothing murmur.

Megumi did not respond immediately, but his grip on your shirt tightened as if acknowledging the shared vulnerability. There was warmth from his body that assuaged your broken and throbbing heart, and with great sincerity, you hoped that he could at least get the same comfort from you. Like a little child, he rested his head by your neck and let out a deep breath.

“Thank you for talking to me.”

With a sad smile, you patted his back. “Of course.”

Even the room seemed to exhale in relief, releasing the lingering tension that had gripped the vicinity.

The peace and serenity were only interrupted when a holler thundered from the upper floor.

“Boy!” Toji, who must be done with his call now, boomed. “I told you to clean the bathroom, already! Mopping and scrubbing today!”

Megumi groaned at the command and peeled away from your touch. “I’m going to do that soon!” he shouted into the void, hoping that his voice somehow made its way back to his father.

“That’s what you said an hour ago!”

“Okay, yeah, he’s right,” Megumi conceded, huffing. He stepped back, a faint blush dusting across his pale cheeks.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just some chores to do. Sorry.”

Toji must be lucky to have such a good son like him.

“No worries.”

With Megumi rushing out to obey his father’s commands, you found the library now all yours. You were smiling ear to ear, your entire body much lighter now that you had resolved many misunderstandings with Megumi. As you waited for his return, you scanned the room in search of something to help you pass the time, your gaze fell upon the Harvard pennant again, this time also noticing the framed document that hung beneath the banner.

“What is this?” you mumbled to yourself.

Yes, as Megumi had pointed out about you earlier, you were incredibly ‘nosy.’ In your defense, this was your chance to learn more about the Fushiguros, a family whose past you just began to uncover through the conversations earlier.

Besides, what harm could be done from just some innocent curiosity?

You approached the piece slowly, unable to comprehend the English print quickly when your first language was Japanese. Yet, with just enough foreign language reading skills, you figured that this document was in fact a Harvard University diploma. Impressed, you admired the gold embossed letters, the university's iconic emblem, and the dark ink that conferred the degree to…

Toji…Zenin.

What?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: We have officially hit the turning point in this fic! The reason I enjoyed writing this chapter so much was how many topics and emotions were explored. While our hot therapists didn't take the spotlight, we got a chance to explore our very elusive Megumi.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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itsgodepi · 8 months

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 2

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.3k Also on AO3

“Oh, you’re up? C’mon get dressed, we have a meeting with the engineers in like ten minutes” the stranger singsongs, throwing the door open and carelessly stepping inside.

The man does not spare you a second glance, instead making a beeline for the tall window that cover the entire wall at your right to throw the curtains open. Your hand flies up to cover your eyes, the new source of light not only blinding you but also revealing too much information for you to process. What is this room? Not your bedroom, that’s clear, you sure as hell do not have a kitchen in front of the bed for starters. And what is that huge balcony? Where are you?

However, you are missing a key question: you are late for what?

“I…I don’t-” you try to get his attention, arms coming around yourself for protection since your voice is not cooperating.

He interrupts you almost instantly, ignoring your complaints as he takes a look down to his phone “Be ready in five, I have to make a call”, and with that said, he is out the door.

The silence he leaves behind is chilling, your mind working at lightspeed while your body remains there, standing alone in the middle of an unknown place, petrified. You can only hear him outside, his steps and words filtering though the paper-thin walls —and only then does your brain register he is and has been talking in English all this time.

You look around, completely overwhelmed by the situation. What are you supposed to do now, jump out the window? Because there is no way you are going to do what he is saying, right? You do not even know who he is or where you are, this is crazy!

A look around the room further confirms your suspicions, this is a hotel room. Those bland colors, decoration to fit everyone’s taste and a neon pink suitcase pushed into a corner that you run to dig through with such fervor that you almost tear the zipper out. But there is nothing that could help you anywhere. Maybe you could throw one of the heels at him and pray that it causes a concussion or something, but that could potentially get you into a lot more trouble.

A couple of knocks halt your investigation, the same mechanical noises sounding again as the door slowly opens. You make a split-second decision to hide in the bathroom, door closing way too loudly for him not to notice.

“We really have to hurry, the car is waiting for us” the man sighs in frustration. You hear some ruffling around the room and before you can figure out what he is doing, he is walking towards the bathroom’s door “Hey, open up, you left your clothes outside”

Considering your chances of escaping any other way are non-existent —you have locked yourself in the worst possible room for an impromptu breakout plan—, you decide to lower your head and listen to him. What else could happen? The situation is bad enough already, you should at least change out of this pyjama.

Taking the knob in your hand and placing a foot close to the door to prevent it from completely opening, you comply with his request. Through the small gap appears a stack of neatly prepared clothes that you quickly snatch before closing it again. The outfit is nothing special, a pair of jeans and a shirt that looks exactly like the one that man is wearing. The fabric is white and of a strange but flowy material, logos of different brands plastered all over it. The biggest one painted right on its center, letters drawn in a dark red color: HAAS.

Advertising clothes? Weird.

You make quick work of getting yourself dressed, stepping out of the room before the man can call for you again. He guides you out the room and through the corridors in silence, glancing every now and then at his phone, until you arrive to the car he had talked about. The driver does not even look back when you get seated, only speeds off as soon as both doors are closed.

On the ride, the atmosphere is tense. Nobody says a word, the only sound filling the space being that of the car’s radio, and even that is worrying you. They are speaking so fast and in such a strange language that it is impossible to understand any of it. Is that why the driver had not talked? Is he a foreigner, like the guy seated by your side? What have you gotten yourself into?

“Sorry, I’ve been so stressed all morning... didn't even ask if you are feeling alright after yesterday” the man breaks the silence, letting go of his phone for the first time all morning.

So, all of that did happen, you did faint in the arms of some stranger dressed in a weird orange jumpsuit. It is nice to have some confirmation, but what the hell...

He rummages through the backpack in the middle seat while waiting for an answer that is so painfully obvious. No, you are not feeling alright, you have been literally kidnapped, is he that delusional or just plain stupid? But you decide it's better to remain silent.

In the meantime, he manages to take out two plastic cards with neck straps attached to them, and holds one of them on your direction as he puts his on. Something instantly catches your attention: not only is your face printed on it, but your name and surnames are written just beneath it. What is this? Why do they have this picture of you? You cannot remember ever taking this photo.

But you do not dare ask it out loud, voice now stuck on your throat as you dwell on what this means to your situation. They must have been following you, they know exactly who you are.

“The doctor said everything was fine, that it must have been the rush of emotions and the exhaustion, so you don’t have to worry” he explains once the silence stretches for a beat too long, waiting a second for it to sink in and gather some courage to continue his monologue “Look, I know you don’t like discussing these things on Sundays, but...”

And although you would have loved to snap at him and tell him that he would not know what you want or do not want to talk about —who the fuck does he think he is?—, it is not you who interrupts him. The arrival to your supposed destination had gone unnoticed by both of you until a woman starts knocking on the car’s window, the scoldings about your lateness filtering even through the thick glass.

Oh, his name is Nick?

The pair seem to be associated —a conclusion that you draw solely because they are wearing that ugly advertising shirt you are now sporting too— or they at least know each other enough for the man to shoot straight out from the car as soon as he hears her. You do so as well, for some reason, but they come over to guide you around before you can question your decision any further.

The place they have taken you to is rather strange, an enclosed area with colorful buildings that look more like tall campers than actual constructions. The people crowding the street are bubbling with energy, running from one place to another, talking and eating. Some of them are carrying cameras and microphones, big ones, like those you see in TV and... they are pointing them at you? In fact, when you look around to confirm your suspicions, you note that you have attracted more than the attention of the cameras, there is so much people looking at you.

Even though you try to avoid everybody’s gazes, too worried about who they might be and what they could do, a man standing further down the street manages to catch your eyes. He waves at you, his lips being drawn into a smile as he notices you have seen him. He is dressed in a red shirt with a bunch of logos —these people sure are big on advertising clothes— and a matching cap, a similar outfit to the man he had been talking to. Oh, and now he is... walking towards you? What? Who is he? But most importantly, should you like, say something? It is not like your kidnappers, or whoever they are, are any more trustworthy than a random man on the street, but maybe-

Yet, before you can decide on anything, he has already arrived.

“Hey, did you eat? You didn’t, right?” the man in red asks —in English again, mind you, although he seems to have a different accent—, and answers his own question in the same breath.

You shake your head in response anyway, it is true, the last thing you ate was yesterday’s lunch, had been too sad to even make yourself a sandwich that night. But it does not feel like your stomach would accept anything either.

His smile widens at the confirmation, dimples peeking out as he reveals what he had been hiding behind his back. On his palm rests a package of cookies wrapped in transparent plastic and a pretty bow. “They made these again! You liked them so much last time, so I brought you some” the man’s voice has turned light with happiness, the look on his green eyes signaling just how proud he is to have gotten them for you, but what does he mean by last time?

Frowning, you peel your eyes off the treat, looking up to the pair by your side for permission. This all seems so strange. “Of course, go ahead” Nick quickly responds, looking rather confused “You can eat whatever you want, I thought you’d be too nervous for food”. And you are, but this man is looking sweetly that it feels impossible to refuse his gift.

You swiftly pick up the bag, holding it close to your chest as a “Thanks” slides out of your lips.

“Uhm, sorry, the meeting is about to start, we have to go” the woman beside you reminds, as Nicks checks his phone for the nth time this morning “Good luck today, Charles! Be safe”

Oh, Charles? That may explain the accent, it sure isn’t an English name.

“Yeah, I’m running late as well” Charles murmurs, taking a look back to where he came from. You follow his gaze to see a man dressed in a similar red shirt, arms crossed over his chest as he waits by the door of another building. Charles seems to nod at him after the man in red makes some signals and points at his watch. “Thank you, and good luck to you too! I know you’ll do great so” he looks back at you this time, shrugging his shoulders as a grin plays on his lips, like it is a done deal.

But what exactly are you supposed to do great at? What is all this good luck for? The man’s arm quickly comes to rest on top of your shoulders before you can dwell on Charles’ words too long, steering you towards one of the buildings while your mind is boiling with questions.

A glass door gives way to a long corridor full of doors, voices and mechanical noises echoing off the walls. The inside is fully painted in white with various red details lining the walls, which awfully remind you of the place you had woken up in yesterday. The only difference is that now you can recognize that red logo drawn all over the walls: HAAS. The same one resting atop your abdomen. You look down at your shirt to confirm it, eyebrows furrowing as you try to decipher what this is supposed to mean.

The source of all that noise seems to be a bigger room that opens at the end of the hallway, one that you do not get the opportunity to take a peek at because the man smoothly ushers you into one of the firsts rooms before you can snoop around much. The door opens to reveal a group of men seated around a table, the group casually greeting you and resuming their conversation a second later. The conversation seems to be all about cars? Something about their engines, the degradation, strategies and stuff you cannot understand, the discussion continuing as one of them points at statistics on a screen. Is that an F1 car?

“We are starting really far ahead today, congratulations on P10! I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday so… I hope you are feeling better and just” one of them says, his eyes lifting from the papers on the table to look straight at you with a big smile “Don’t be greedy, ok? Keep the position, we need the points” The rest of the men seem to agree with that piece of advice, erupting in laughs as they dedicate each other knowing glances.

On the other hand, you remain silent, trying to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. P what? What is P?

The meeting does not last much, a thousand of technical words are thrown around without care and a pile of numbers is presented to you all, but you do not manage to grasp what anything of it means. However, the final phrase stays on your mind, a wish that they all share: “Let’s have a great race”. And that word is what starts turning the gears in your head.

That and the fucking Formula One car that you come face to face with when Nick leads you further down the corridor. A “What the hell?” rolling out of your tongue almost unconsciously, eyes glued to the machine before you are pushed into yet another room.

Next chapter

___

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for the nice comments and interactions.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd@drezzerk33

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you #f1 fic

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theprismyyy · 6 months

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Honestly, I read on several different platforms, both here on Tumblr, and on Wattpad, ao3 and others... and so, in general, they are all great apps with great stories to read, but there is one thing that bothers me about all of them, mainly and especially on Ao3, and the amount of disgusting content involving serious subjects like incest, rape and others that I won't bother mentioning here; What irritates me most about this is the lack of filter in the app.I'm only saying all this because the following happened, I was simply reading some stories about Gwen Stacy on the said app (ao3) when I came across atrocities like a fanfic whose plot was literally an incestuous relationship between Gwen and her father....man , I just wanted to read some fluffy fluff and not come across unnecessary and unsolicited material, I didn't bother opening this (obviously) and I didn't even want to, I was honestly disgusted... Also, I came across another whose plot idea was even more horrible... I don't know, it all just made me think that maybe these apps need more serious and firm rules and punishments in the face of these things; such serious and criminal topics being written in a sick manner to normalize and entertain more disgusting and sick people is still dark, it's even darker how little we talk about it and how little the developers seem to care, I imagine dealing with demands so big ones must be extremely difficult but we don't even see a movement to deal with these things...IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S JUST A CHARACTER, IT DOESN'T MATTER HE OR SHE DOESN'T EXIST, FUCK YOU AND YOUR SICK SHIT THAT USES THIS AS AN "ARGUMENT" TO WRITE CRIMINAL THINGS AND FEED YOUR FANTASIES DISGUSTING!!!! WHAT WE WRITE AND CONSUME SAYS A LOT ABOUT THE TYPE OF PEOPLE WE ARE AND IF YOU CONSUME IT AND DON'T SEE A PROBLEM WITH THIS TYPE OF CONTENT THEN PLEASE FUCK YOU

Anyway, this was just me venting because honestly I was extremely uncomfortable, I just wanted to read some nonsense and I had to come across something so sickening.

Edit: Apparently this is necessary as I may not have been as specific on some points and some people don't seem to understand (or don't want to understand)

It wasn't a personal "attack" on the Ao3 platform, I just used it as an example because that's usually where this type of work ends up appearing more.

2. Yes, I know and use the filtering system, Still, I think they are very often very flawed... besides, many of the people who write this type of content use tags that have nothing to do with the plot of the story to achieve greater visibility.

3. Yes... teenagers have sex 😱 wow what an incredible discovery!!! I know a lot of movies, shows, etc. portray this openly, I personally don't feel comfortable writing smut in general and everyone has their own opinion about it, but I understand there are a lot of writers who do this normalization and trivialization of a CRIME!

4. I know that many people use writing as a coping mechanism, but I think it is very unlikely that a person who has been through a situation, such as rape, for example, You'll write about it like it's something sexy or the best experience you've ever had in your life, like a lot of these types of writers do.

5. Yes, one of the joys of writing is that we can explore the deepest, most complex aspects of humanity without directly hurting anyone, and I love that, but we need to take responsibility for that.

6. There was a guy here who literally said that it's because of people like me that you can't have porn on Tumblr anymore...but why would there need to be porn here? Why just not open on an adult site like pornhub or xvideos?

7. I was indirectly called a facist through a Hashtag.... not supporting the normalization of rape, incest, etc. apparently makes me a facist😍

(I really am completely willing to hear opinions and comments, but I will not tolerate disrespect in the comments. That's it and thank you)

#gwen stacy x reader #across the spiderverse #spider verse #into the spider verse #gwen stacy #hobbie brown #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #peter b parker #peter parker #what the fuck #what the fuck is this #I'm disgusted #We need to talk about this

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sehtoast · 6 months

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Pocket Pal (tiny!Homelander x OC)

18+ | 2k | tiny!Homelander, micro/macro, oral sex, he gets wild with it | Fic Directory

These stupid fucking super villains and their stupid fucking gimmicks!

Homelander is the strongest man in the world, and now? Now he’s lost inside of his own suit, tangled up somewhere between padding and fabric that won’t let even a smidge of light filter through.

It’s the sound of squeaky complaints that helps Ben figure out which sleeve he’s caught in.

The web-head arrived just as it happened. Some new villain running around calling herself Minimizer managed to pull a fast one on Homelander, completely shrinking his body.

“I’m going to ram through her fucking skull!” He shrieks, standing stark naked in Ben’s palm. His eyes burn with rage, and his fury increases tenfold when Benjamin giggles.

“Oh man,” the bug chuckles. He marvels at Homelander’s size. He runs roughly the length from the heel of Ben’s hand to the tip of his middle finger– maybe just a bit more. “You’re so tiny…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Homelander bellows, though his voice rings higher to the larger world. “It’s not fucking funny!”

Ben shakes his head, biting back a smile.

“Benjamin, I swear to fucking Christ!”

This was horrible. There was a crowd forming, and he’d fear for his real body being on every screen in the world if not for the way Ben shielded him with cupped hands. Everyone’s getting pictures and videos of his suit piled in the street, of Spidey crouched down, speaking to something in his hands. Any fucking idiot could put two and two together, and now the world will know he’s weak.

Homelander’s fury quells the slightest bit when Benjamin ruffles his hair with his thumb.

“Alright, alright,” Ben relents. He brings his hands to the neckline of his suit, allowing Homelander to crawl inside for the ride. “Look, we’ll get back home and see what the verdict on this is, yeah?”

He grumbles, but agrees. Minimizer had run off anyway, and this was only drawing out the public spectacle. Homelander watches Ben gather his suit and boots, and they take off together.

Dr. Edi, head of the medical ward, checks him over. She finds no humor in his condition, but reassures the both of them that Vought’s records indicate Minimizer’s powers are a temporary effect. Most of her victims are back to normal within five or so days, and all they had to do was wait it out.

There are no reasonable clothes that fit his tiny form, and his eyes burn a fierce red when Ben mentions those Barbie Ken dolls having stuff that might work. In the end, they both realize it’s easier if he just runs around naked.

Homelander’s entire schedule is cleared for his ‘recovery.’ Ben’s as well, especially once Homelander threatened to crawl inside Ashley’s head and piss on her brain if she didn’t free the web-head’s time.

For the duration of his recovery, Homelander rides around on either Ben’s head or shoulder wherever they go. And sure, he can fly, but he finds this much more enjoyable. It’s kind of fun seeing the world from Ben’s point of view, and he likes that he can throw himself entirely on top of his little spider and be held from head to toe. Ben has always doted on him, but he does so especially now that he’s tiny.

Homelander hangs on to Ben’s hair as the web-head makes them dinner. It’s the first time in his life he’s given a shit about cooking, and it’s almost hypnotizing to watch Ben throw everything together and make something out of nothing.

Benjamin makes him a special dish. All of his food is sliced and diced just enough to be workable for his little mouth. Sure, he doesn’t have to eat, but Ben always insists he does anyway. Now was no different, and it stirred something warm in Homelander’s angry little heart to know Ben cared enough to adapt everything for him.

They eat and conversate as if nothing is different. At the end, Homelander floats up to take his spot on Ben’s shoulder, leaning and nuzzling against the side of his neck. Ben thumbs at his tiny shoulder before seeing to the clean up.

The pair had to find a method for Homelander to take showers. Sure, he was tiny, but that didn’t mean he was going to shirk his strict hygiene routines. Flying under the stream of pelting water took more effort than it was worth, and it was far easier to let Ben hold him throughout the process. Scented products became a hell far worse than ever before, and Ben had to use only the special unscented soaps Homelander typically used on himself.

It took a whole debacle to realize Homelander was better off scooping shower product out of Ben’s palm instead of attempting a pea sized squeeze of product.

“Well, you’re definitely clean,” Ben had told him the first time they tried to pour soap into his little hands. Homelander had to be rinsed under the water after the body wash flowed too fast and drenched him. He griped about how humiliating the ordeal was for the rest of the night. If nothing else, at least Ben giving him a fully body massage as he lathered him with his thumbs was near fucking orgasmic.

Ben found that the best solution for drying Homelander after showers was to simply use a blow dryer. Initially, the two tried to just use a washcloth, but it was like attempting to dry off with a king sized blanket. Plus, the sight of Homelander pretending he wasn’t shivering from the cold was pitiful, so Ben picked the next best thing.

He liked it, too. Sitting under the current of warm air, not even caring how messed up his hair got. It felt so fucking nice to just lay back in Ben’s palm and let himself be spoiled endlessly. Lifting his legs so that the air could hit every little crevice on his body, chuckling at Ben’s own laughter at the act.

“I’m starting to think you like being small,” Ben teases as he fans the dryer back and forth.

“Maybe I just like when you spoil me.” Homelander shouts over the whir of the dryer. “Should do it more often. Like, way more often.”

He finds he enjoys sleeping curled up in Ben’s palm at night. It’s warm, and he can hug a finger or two if he’s feeling inclined. Of course, this opens the door for mischief.

It wasn’t a surprise for Ben when he woke to find Homelander humping against his middle finger. In fact, this was exactly what he expected. Wasn’t often Homelander could go a night without sex, and Ben imagined it would be no different now.

Homelander’s little groans were the cutest. They still carried that faint squeakiness that his tiny voice had, and he was certainly unashamed to let them ring free.

“Havin’ fun?” Ben asks with a sleepy smirk. “Can’t believe you got a new boyfriend already.”

“Veeery funny. Homelander leans his head back to stare at his little spider. “I dunno if he’s a keeper, though. Not a single hole on this guy to fuck.”

That earns him a sweet giggle from Ben.

“Lay back, then.” Ben instructs. He watches Homelander position himself just right, then juts out the tip of his tongue to ghost it from sack to tip. He hears Homelander hiss. “Too much?”

Homelander shakes his head and shivers. “More…”

Ben swipes his tongue a second time, laving over him with more pressure. He licks back and forth, feeling Homelander writhe beneath his tongue. It’s messy, and probably looks absolutely ridiculous, but John sings his pleasure louder than in any blowjob in the past.

“O-Oh, fuck!” He gasps, little hips thrusting up against the wet heat. “Mmph, god, so good! D-Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–” He cries out harshly as he spills, body locking tight and hot as each pulse of pleasure ripples through him. “Don’t s-stop!” He babbles over and over again, thrusting as little spurts of come coat his lower body and Ben’s tongue until he simply lays there limp.

After that night, Ben’s tongue became his favorite thing in the world. Whether that meant his little spider would curl it up into a hole for him to fuck or just simply let him straddle and grind on it, he fucking loved it. It wasn’t uncommon for him to float up and wedge between Ben’s lips, lower body trapped inside paradise itself as he was licked to completion over and over again until Ben’s jaw would hurt.

Even better than that was the time he discovered he could return the favor. It wasn’t hard to slink down Ben’s sleeping body and find just what he was looking for. He embraced Ben’s clit, licking the head of it on one side while rubbing his palm over the other. He felt every throb, heard every little clench around his love’s gathering arousal as he worked. Once that nub was finally nice and hard, he made his way inside Benjamin’s cunt.

What a gift it was to be able to writhe around in his slick, touching his walls, licking them, grinding against them. He was snug inside and used his flight powers to fuck his body in and out of the warm canal. Each time, he rubbed his palms flat against Ben’s sweet spot.

He could hear Ben groaning and could tell he was beginning to squirm in his sleep. He planned to finish the job before the sunlight could wake Ben first. Homelander increased his pace, fucking back and forth, body utterly drenched in arousal. The glide of his body against Ben’s walls stimulated him, and he found himself coming hard when Benjamin’s cunt finally pulsed around him, squeezing him so deliciously.

A hand was there to greet him when he slipped free, lifting him like a naughty kitten to be scolded for such mischief.

Though he actually received praise instead, much to his satisfaction.

By the end of the fifth day, he was back to being upset about his stature. It must have been at least every hour that he–

“It should have fucking worn off by now!” He says with wide eyes. “What if I’m stuck like this? Jesus Christ, what if I’m like this for the rest of my life!?”

Ben shushes him, thumbing softly at the top of his head. “Worrying is just going to make it worse, Johnny.” He coos sweetly. “I’m sure things like this are gonna be case by case, y’know?”

“Bring me back to the med wing,” he orders. “She has to fix this or–”

“She can’t, babe. Remember?” Ben settles his open hand behind where Homelander sits on his chest, wordlessly offering for him to lean back. “It’s gonna have to happen naturally, okay? She said it’s always been temporary.”

“D’you have any idea how fucking humiliating this is?” He seethes.

“I mean…” Ben arches a brow. “Kinda? I guess?”

“No,” he points accusingly, “you don’t. So stop acting like this is nothing to worry about!”

Ben merely lets him continue on his tirade as they lay on the couch together. Sometimes Homelander just needs to have a tantrum, and this is no different. The TV fills the spaces between his rants until he simmers down and sits grumpily with his arms crossed.

He grumbles, but eventually drags Ben’s hand to lay overtop of him for warmth.

They end up sleeping there for the night, and it’s peaceful until, out of nowhere, Benjamin is roused from his rest by a sudden pressure on his body. His eyes open in shock, ready to deal with an attack, only to be met with relief.

There, sleeping peacefully, is John, full sized and back to normal. He seems to have not even noticed the shift in his sleep, but is certainly elated when Ben wakes him.

“Finally!” Homelander grins, still stark naked and proud as a peacock. “Now,” he says, grasping Ben’s hand, leading him toward the bedroom. “We got some lost time to make up for, and you deserve a little something for helping me out.”

Much as he was thrilled to see John back in good spirits, Ben admittedly was going to miss his pocket pal.

Ah, well. Minimizer’s still out there, right?

Who’s to say there’s never gonna be a next time?

#homelander #homelander x oc #homelander smut #homelander fanfiction #cozy corner kinktober #antony starr #the boys #the benlander agenda

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a-casual-kpopfan · 1 year

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CCDI-0402 : Pet - Chuu

You guys asks, so I have answered.

A little collaboration @shinyaharu98 and I have written out, special thanks to him for working on this with me and give his new series LoonaTheHarem a read!~

Enjoy this!

“I’m not falling for it this time, Jiwoo.”

Your adorable girlfriend Kim Jiwoo asked you to join her for another special ChuuCanDoIt shoot once again. Memories of what happened last time still lingers on, you don’t want to get blue balled again.

“I swear to God, Jiwoo. This better be just a normal episode of you picking up trash or something.” You exclaimed but knowing that she is into some kinky stuff lately, it might just be impossible for this to just be a normal one.

“I’m not telling you what today’s theme is, it’s a surprise!” Jiwoo answered your question with her signature smile.

Cute.

“But it’s going to be different than last time, I promise.” She ensured. “And the only one I would like try this is you anyway…”

Jiwoo bites her lips subconsciously, as she is brainstorming about what is going to happen. You also have no idea what she has in store for you this time, but thanks to experience from last time’s event, you thought NOTHING can surprise you anymore.

But then, Jiwoo handed over a blindfold.

“Wh… Why are you giving me this?”

“Oppa, just wear it while I change, okay? I don’t want to give you any spoilers.”

With no options available, you put on the blindfold reluctantly. You vision turned into pitch black.

“Good boy~” Jiwoo’s voice deepened, leaning into your ear as she praised you. It’s almost like she switched into a different persona when needed, did she have DID or something?

With your vision impairment, your sense of hearing is heightened. You heard a zipping noise coming in front of you, and then it hits you. She is removing her clothing right in front of you. A million images sparked inside your brain, as the only thing you can do right now is imagine.

Imagine your petite girlfriend just casually stripping in front of you.

Imagine her perfect idol body just being presented to you without any filter.

“Oppa… What are you thinking about? Does the thought of me stripping turns you on that much?” Jiwoo grinned then bites her lips, knowing that you are that easy to read.

“I’m… I’m not getting turned on!” You refused to acknowledge you might just be a pervert who gets turned on just by imagination.

But she knows. She knows what exactly you are.

“You are saying that, but your body is more honest, you know? I can see your cock is getting bigger and bigger…”

Jiwoo began to remove your clothing, piece by piece. She is taking it slowly, as if she is slowly torturing you with pleasure but no way to release it. The tingling sensation kept coming as her skilled hands worked its way from your chest, giving your nipples a little lick and finally your crotch.

Finally, your entire body is completely naked in front of Jiwoo.

No matter how many times Jiwoo has seen your thick and veiny cock, she is still amazed by it like the first time she saw it.

“It is just as big and thick like the last time I saw it… Oppa, you leacher.” Her eyes twinkled with joy. “You must have fantasized about me during your free time, haven’t you? So, tell me… What do you want me to do?”

What you need the most right now is her. You yearn for her gentle yet skillful touch, her fragrance and warmth from her body, her cheerful yet surprisingly lewd expression. You yearn for her EVERYTHING.

“I… I want you to touch me, Jiwoo.” You start off with a mild request.

“Is that so? Fine, I’ll do it. Last time I told you to do it yourself, this time I’ll do the work for you. Be grateful alright?”

Jiwoo began to stroke your cock; the sensation is totally different than doing it yourself. Plus, the pleasure has been intensified significantly since you are not able to see anything. But you can hear Jiwoo is starting to moan as well. Seeing your cock with such vigor flipped her switch, she didn’t let her other hand be idle. On one hand she is stroking your cock, on the other she is rubbing her clitoris to release her pent-up lust.

As both of you are immersed in pleasure, Jiwoo did something that she knew you would react to. She leaned over your ear and whispered.

“Oppa… Your cock is so energetic… I want you to fill my insides with your thick rich cum… Release all of it inside me please~”

Her naughty words pleading for a creampie sex made your imagination runs wild, further pushing you towards your limit.

“Jiwoo… I’m about to cum!” Jiwoo responded by speeding up her stroking motion while moaning louder into your ear.

“Let it all out oppa! Release all your sperm for me!”

As you couldn’t hold it back anymore, Jiwoo suddenly stopped.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… You don’t really think I ACTUALLY mean that right, oppa?” She sneered.

Naturally, you shouted with anger.

“Jiwoo! What the fuck are you doing?? I’m almost there! It’s like the last time all over again, you know how painful that is to me?”

“All in good time oppa, all in good time. But now...”

Before you could say anything, Jiwoo cuffed your hands behind and put a collar on your neck. She then proceeds to remove your blindfold, and then the first thing came into your field of view is a pink sofa. It felt like déjà vu as you swore you seen this sofa before, but you just can’t recall where exactly you’ve seen this.

That is until Jiwoo appeared in front of you.

You thought she was naked the entire time, but no. Your deductions were completely wrong.

She is wearing a white dress with a black corset-like fabric across her waist, which further accentuates her slim figure. Whoever designed this shirt might be just a perverted genius because it is basically a see-through dress with holes all over it.

“Wait a minute, isn’t this the dress from…”

“Yes, from the & album shoot. I know. I nicked it as a souvenir when I got out from BBC.”

“What else did you stole from them??”

“The big apple from my solo music video shoot, but that’s not the point, oppa! Stop changing the subject!” Jiwoo continued. “On today’s episode of ChuuCanDoIt, we are going to learn about obedience!”

“Obedience?”

“That’s right, oppa! To do that, you will be my pet for the day! And I will be your master!” She seems more excited than her usual self. But in an instant, her eyes changed. Her gaze became serious, like she is ready to go all out.

“And from now on, you will do exactly what I say and when I say it. You can only cum when I allow you to, understand?”

Shocked by the sudden transition, only two words uttered from your mouth.

“Yes master.”

“Good boy.” Jiwoo seems satisfied when she asserted her dominance. “Now lie down on the floor, and only speak when I allow you to.”

You never knew that you have this kind of fetish before. But being dominated and controlled by your bewitching girlfriend with such a controlling persona, you couldn’t lie to yourself but to admit she’s pretty hot.

A hidden switch inside your brain flipped, so you fully immersed into your character. A mere pet whose only purpose is to obey every single command by your master: Kim Jiwoo.

Your member turned flaccid, as the feeling of desire faded away just now. But Jiwoo knows how to turn you back on, she is your girlfriend after all, she is probably the one that knows all about you. Your preferences, your kinks, your fetishes and so on.

As you were laying down on the floor, Jiwoo stepped above you, leaving you the sight of what’s underneath her white dress. And just like last time, she isn’t wearing underwear beneath. But this time you are finally able to set her private parts for the first time. Her hairless vagina coated with arousal fluid from before, glistening under the studio lights.

“I waxed it last night just to prepare for this. This better be worth it.”

Before you could take a closer look at her vagina, Jiwoo planted herself in your face, filling your face and mouth with her lower parts.

“Lick it.” Jiwoo ordered. She began to grind herself onto you, reducing you down to just a tool for her to use and enjoy.

But being an obedient pet, it’s in your nature that you want to serve your master. You want her to feel pleasure like never before, and this is your only purpose.

Without any hesitation, you greedily lick and twirl your tongue inside Jiwoo’s vagina. Saliva mixed in with her love fluids creates a slushy sound as you show no signs of stopping, or even slowing down.

“Ah yes…that really hits the spot~ Faster, faster!”

Clearly you managed to hit all her weak spots, she responded with flurries of spasms and moans.

“You’re such a good boy~ Maybe I should give you a reward after this… Ahhh…”

A reward? That is not even the incentive for you to keep going. The real incentive for you to lick harder and harder is the reaction Jiwoo gave you. She closed her eyes to further enjoy the sensation you provided, her mouth gasping for air as she continues to rub even more vigorously than before.

“Ahh…I think I will cum from your mouth!” She accelerates as she reaches her peak.

“I’m cumming… I’m cumming!”

Unlike Jiwoo who denies your orgasm, you continued to like her labia and clitoris until she reaches a euphoric state. Streams of fluid gushed out from her holes, but you swallowed it all diligently.

Salty.

Jiwoo was impressed that you managed to devour all her juices.

“Haah… Did you drink it all up already? Good boy! I would have punished you if you let it all to waste.”

She finally detached her nether regions from your face, leaving you a window of opportunity to finally take a breather.

“Is …is it over?” You asked.

But instead of getting an answer, Jiwoo stared coldly at you.

“Who gave you the permission to talk, pet? That is merely a warmup.”

Uh oh. You gulped.

“Now for the main event…” She diverted her attention to your already erect shaft.

All her moans, her dirty talk and body movements from before igniting the primal instinct inside you. Although you are now immobilized, your cock responded accordingly and became sturdier than ever before.

Jiwoo removed her dress to avoid it getting in her way. Her idol body presented in front of you without any filter, it’s even better than you could have imagined.

She recently dyed her hair brown, which really accentuates her light skin tone. She doesn’t use a lot of heavy makeup, instead she went with a more natural look. Her breasts are not the biggest in the bunch compared to other members, but it is still ample enough to stand out on its own.

As you were distracted by her body, Jiwoo lowered herself and slowly inserted your cock inside her.

“잘 먹겠습니다~” = “Thank you for the food~”

As your cock gradually disappear inside her vagina, the pleasurable sensation kept on coming. You can feel her vaginal walls wrapping tightly, as if your cock is molding a shape inside of her.

Finally, her insides engulfed your cock completely.

She is fully in control of everything. You couldn’t even hold her slim waist with your hands, as they are still cuffed from behind.

“Don’t you dare take the lead. I’ll move, alright?” Jiwoo’s voice was deep, the tone is as sultry as ever, you felt yourself growing harder than ever.

She started bouncing on top and making vertical movements, sliding your cock in and out from her soaked vagina. Lubricant is not even being used as both of your private areas are completely drenched in fluids, Jiwoo kept pounding herself while being in the top position.

Her breasts jiggled around, matching her pace as she basically impaled herself with your shaft.

“You are reaching my deepest parts… This feels too good, I’m going crazy!” With your cock still inside her, Jiwoo pressed her body onto yours. You felt her soft breasts squeezing your chest, a sensation that you had never experienced before.

Jiwoo stared into your eyes with a serious yet seductive gaze.

“Open your mouth” She instructed.

You did what she told and opened your mouth. Jiwoo stuck her tongue out, saliva dribbled down from the top of her tongue forming a line and dripped into your mouth. Satisfied, she gave you another command.

“Drink it.”

You gulped down her saliva and showed her your empty mouth.

“Good boy~ You are a fast learner, aren’t you?”

To further claim her throne as your master, she kissed your neck.

Hard.

So hard until it formed a hickey on your neck.

“With this mark on your neck, you belong to me and me only.”

You nodded and stuck your tongue out for more, hoping that she blesses you with her nectar.

But instead of giving you more of her saliva, she gave you a deep kiss. She tangled her tongue with yours, mixing your saliva together. While this is happening, she didn’t even lose her momentum on pounding you. Sensation coming from both ends of her body made it almost impossible to hold back.

“Ya… Are you about to cum? I think I am at my limits too… On the count to 10 we cum together alright?”

Again, you nodded as a signal to her that you are almost there. After being blue balled twice, you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. You finally can pour your seeds into your girlfriend’s womb.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

Halfway through the countdown, you can feel her walls constricting even tighter around your cock. The pulsing sensation and heat emanating from her insides added fuel to the fire.

“5… 4… 3… 2…”

As she about to finish the countdown, unexpectedly, Jiwoo came first.

“I’m cumming!!!”

Jiwoo’s body goes into total shock, she collapses on top of you, breathing very heavily. “You’re such… Ha… A good boy…” Once Jiwoo gathered herself, you didn’t say a word more so for the fact you didn’t get to finish… AGAIN. “Eheee. You were such an obedient pet, you deserve a reward.” Jiwoo gave you a big smile before pull out your somewhat hard wood out of her.

“Oh my, it’s slathered in my cum.” Jiwoo says looking down as she’s getting wet again from watching your cock come out of her. “Let’s give you some love now.” Jiwoo crawled down your body, but not without a tease of her body moving on top hers, you feel yourself feeling her body from bottom to top with Jiwoo smirking.

“It’s getting hard again.” Her smirk grows larger with excitement, she is going to give you the best blowjob she can muster. She may be your girlfriend and have done it on several occasions, but you had always wanted to give Jiwoo a good face fuck.

“Tell me baby, where do you want to finish fucking me tonight?” You were given permission to speak, you could only say one word.

“Mouth.”

Jiwoo’s faint smile turns to a large smirk. “Okay baby, anything for you.” Jiwoo gets you to stand up, as she gets on her knees all for you. No time was wasted, horny peach swallowed up the length of you. You kept your mouth shut, though it was hard to not say a word at how good the young vocalist’s mouth was doing you.

“Ah! Is mommy making you feel good, do you want more?” Her smile, the way she’s rubbing you with both her hands, it’s making you harder, hornier. Jiwoo sticks her tongue out, swirling it around over and over again at your exposed tip.

You watch that tongue disappear into her mouth, as well as everything that is attached to your crotch. “Ah fuck!” Jiwoo stays deep throating you, in and out, in and out, in and out, you can feel everything inside her mouth, the tongue, the cheeks and little bit of her uvula.

You couldn’t hold it in yourself anymore, you grabbed Jiwoo’s hair from behind her head making a makeshift ponytail. Her eyes widen, clearly seeing what your intentions are with her, although the look in her eye doesn’t show fear nor is she patting you to spot.

You can read the look in her eyes and slight smile the edges of her lips make.

“Do it.”

She nodded as she starts to fondle your sack to let you know that she wants it. Your lips turn into a smirk, your fantasy of face fucking Jiwoo has finally come to life. You slowly pull away from Jiwoo’s mouth, but not completely. You then push yourself into her mouth, reach as far back as it can reach.

You pulled.

Then pushed.

Pulled.

Pushed.

Each time you pump your cock in and out, the more Jiwoo gags, turning you on the more you hear it. Tears started going down her cheeks, she was choking all over you but still yet to signal you to stop, was this really the results of being a main vocalist?

No matter, Jiwoo’s tongue continued playing with the treat she’s getting to make you come to the edge of your limit. “Fuck Jiwoo, I’m going to cum!” Jiwoo then stopped you moving while she decided to finish this herself, the way her lips wrap around the girth, the way her hands are rubbing your wet and hard cock.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck… Ahhhh…”

You finally finished.

You busted.

Your dong leaked and burst.

“Don’t swallow.”

Jiwoo obeys, letting your cock in her mouth go. You started going soft, but Jiwoo gives you a finishing show, opening her mouth with a pool of your cum. If you hadn’t just busted a nut, you would definitely be hard right now.

Jiwoo pokes her out tongue in the pool of cum, she lets it leak out and drip all over her breasts. She then swallowed whatever was left in her mouth while she spread the droplets around her breasts with her finger tips, making her nipples glisten in the studio light.

“My, my, I thought I would be the one in control.”

Jiwoo sat there, with little puddle formed beneath her.

After all that, she wears a big smile on her face.

#loona #kpop fanfiction #loona smut #chuu #kim jiwoo #male reader

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nightgoodomens · 3 months

Note

bullshit bingo take of the day i just stumbled upon: "crowley only helps job and elspeth because he doesn't like hell and wants to spite them"

and i'm ashamed to admit it but that gave me severe anxiety. i usually ignore the bad takes but i'm not having a good day mentally and i feel like i'm going crazy so i guess i really need to ask. i'm no delulu right? crowley doesn't do it to spite hell and be rebellious but only because he's kind and selfless and wants to help and protect?

You know, this is the reason why I am cutting myself away from the Good Omens fandom more and more, and I might recommend you cutting yourself a little bit off as well - filter your dash with people who you know post the good stuff, things you love, and don’t look for general opinions etc anymore.

There are still awesome people out there who haven’t forgotten what this show and characters actually are.

I remember when I joined with Season 2 and told myself wow this is the first normal fandom I’ve ever been in - how?! - lmao, no. It is like every other fandom out there where you simply have to find your people and ignore the rest.

At the beginning I felt like it was insane and amazing how everyone got along, bloody hell, people posting opinions, analysing everything, the disagreements were kind, interesting conversations, so many clues being found, general respect, everything worked with canon so people agreed to disagree on little things… most of all so much love for the characters for exactly who they were and for the show for exactly what it was.

Cue in a few months later and everything is negative, characters are monsters, or pathetic, or whores/sluts/dogs, trolls everywhere, so much hate, and anon hate, canon is non existent, everything; the story and the characters and every scene are fetishised to the extreme and have nothing to do with what they have been portrayed to be, and actually apparently we were all wrong and Good Omens is an extremely hardcore sex show after all, and the metas are now how it proves that they should be in an extreme dom/sub relationship - yeah the two guys who’s whole story is that they need to be set free. Crowley is treated in a way that makes me feel sick at this point because people talking about the horrible things that should be done to him and saying it would be good for him actually makes me shudder. It is scary how so many people talk about sensitive topics that they don’t understand at all. Some takes are actually horrifying at this point and I hope they don’t genuinely have such opinions in real life when real people are involved. And the fans acting like such things are absolutely normal and this is how majority of relationships out there are like are frankly worrying me. Aziraphale was completely stripped off his personality too. So much to unpack about this insanity but I don’t want to dig into it. Not everything should be normalised.

In a way I wonder if there was an influx of fans who never watched the show, just know it from fics/fanart.

I was getting extremely angry about these things but I finally let it go and just blocked, and blocked, and blocked. Now I barely see anything like this. I had to step away from AO3. I scroll the dash a lot less. And I simply started focusing on other things again.

When it reaches the moment when you cringe seeing Good Omens because people ruined scenes for you - step away. That’s when I knew I have to start blocking and filtering because I didn’t want to start associating the show with cringe - it doesn’t deserve it.

Just find your circle of likeminded people. So this fandom brings you joy not a headache. And ignore the rest.

#NightGoodOmens answers

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echo-goes-mmm · 4 months

Text

Ambrose and Elliot Extra #2

Masterpost

Ambrose + The Five Stages of Grief

Denial

Ambrose woke up to find the bed cold. It wasn’t unusual to find his husband gone in the morning, but Janus always told him when he had work to do.

He yawned and stretched. Jay probably just forgot.

Sunlight filtered through the high windows, the chimes on the balcony gently singing. It was a beautiful morning.

He watered the plants and made himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. It was quiet for now; soon the streets would be full of people. Maybe he’d go to the markets today. He could definitely go for some street food.

Ambrose began to worry when evening came without a word from his husband. He lit the lanterns and cracked open a book to wait for him, but he couldn’t get into it.

Are you coming home tonight? He asked out into the night, but Janus didn’t answer.

He bit his lip.

Jay would be home at some point, he decided. It was probably an emergency. He had godly duties to perform, after all. Ambrose would simply be patient.

He blew out the lantern and went to bed.

___________________

Bargaining

Months went by with no sign of him. Ambrose couldn’t understand it. He’d never been gone so long.

Did he do something wrong? He played the memories of the last night he saw Janus over and over in his mind.

They had dinner together, went on a walk, enjoyed some soft sex. Completely normal.

He began to pray daily.

Where are you? Are you coming back?

Please come back. I love you.

I made that dish you like today. Thinking of you.

He even made an altar, bought some incense in Janus’s favored scent. Don’t forget about me. Please.

Ambrose made sure the house was spotless. He cleaned all the clothes Janus had left, stocked the kitchen with his favorite treats.

Janus loved him. Janus loved him.

Maybe he hadn’t loved him back enough.

If, no when, Jay came back, he’d be the best husband anyone could want.

___________________

Anger

The silence wore on him.

He distracted himself, a bit spitefully, with tickets to plays Janus liked. If he wasn’t going to enjoy them, Ambrose would go by himself.

He got a kitten, who he named CATherine, a pun that Janus would roll his eyes at fondly. They talked about getting a cat, and served the bastard right to miss the adorable kitten phase.

Frustration began to mount, bleeding into everything. He let Jay’s rose bush die, and then immediately felt guilty. He avoided even seeing the temple in the distance, shuttering windows that faced the tall towers.

He didn’t pray at all anymore.

One day, it all became too much. In a fit of rage he kicked over the new altar and smashed Janus’s flower vase against the wall, tears blurring his vision.

He would have left the mess, but Catherine could hurt herself.

He tossed the shards of the vase in the trash, and didn’t bother buying a replacement. He only picked up the remains of the altar because Catherine mewed at him, disappointed in his tantrum.

Janus better have a damn good explanation for a year of absence.

___________________

Depression

It was when Catherine got sick and passed away that he realized maybe he was the issue.

Janus was a god, powerful and handsome, and Ambrose couldn’t keep his cat alive.

Jay had probably met his match and decided Ambrose wasn’t worth it anymore. What could he possibly bring to the table that Janus couldn’t get elsewhere?

He stared at the wedding ring in his palm.

Forever was engraved into the gold.

Yeah, right. Forever.

It had been twelve years, and not a word. Nothing.

He didn’t go out anymore. Kept the windows closed. He hadn’t showered in days, and most of the time he couldn't get out of bed. Couldn’t bring himself to face the world.

It was his birthday tomorrow. He’d be a hundred, and still didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

He couldn’t bring himself to care.

___________________

Acceptance

Janus wasn’t coming back. Maybe he wasn’t coming back, ever.

Ambrose still loved him, but he couldn’t stay in their home. Too many painful memories. Nearly seventy years of marriage was tied up in it, not counting the years since his disappearance.

He had bought a plot of land in a small village across the country, and commissioned a building. A change of pace would be good, and a quaint inn in the countryside was the exact opposite of his luxurious house in the capital.

He sold the house for a small fortune as soon as the inn was finished, packed the few items he hadn’t gotten rid off, and headed east.

___________________

Ambrose was sweeping the front step when the woman approached him. He hadn’t yet met anyone in town, but his presence had caused a bit of a stir.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted her as she came up to him. She was an older woman, with wisps of gray in her hair. A little girl followed behind her.

“Good to know you city boys got some manners.” He was caught off guard for a moment, but her easy smile told him she was teasing.

“I’m Dora, and this is my granddaughter, Judy. Say hello, Judy.” Judy hid behind her grandmother, and Ambrose couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Judy. I’m Ambrose. Would you like to come in for some tea?”

Judy mumbled something behind Dora’s skirt.

“Speak up, hun,” encouraged Dora.

“My granny says you should come to lunch cause you’re a stranger. And she says strangers make good friends.” Ambrose snorted.

“Well I can’t say no to such a lovely invitation, now can I?”

___________________

“So, Ambrose, what brings you to our sleepy little town? It can’t be the good business; an inn won’t make much here.”

Ambrose fidgeted with the napkin. The money wasn't an issue. His bank account grew without him these days, faster than he could spend it.

“Just needed a change. My husband left, and the empty house wasn’t kind to me.”

Dora nodded in sympathy. “My Charles, gods rest his soul, passed years ago.” She took his hand in his. “It’ll get better.” He needed the advice, even if it was a decade late.

“Thank you, Ms. Dora.”

“None of that, hun, just Dora.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He had a good feeling about this.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda

#Judy grows up to run a store and sell a teapot to a young man named Elliot #and yeah basically the whole town knows Ambrose is immortal #they just don't talk about it. it aint polite y'hear?#ambrose and elliot #my writing #whump

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lawlietscaramels · 4 months

Note

okay okay okay I know you said no stories (understandable the holidays wiped me out too agshwsj) but I just got this random idea in my head and I could wait...!

So you know how voice filters are so normal now? even copying VA's to a seriously convincing level. What if people started using L's usual voice filter? Like nothing malicious, just people posting the craziest shit using THE detective L voice.

voice clips, shit posts, thirst traps, tiktok sounds of his public challenge on kira, people hating and simping on main and L can only helplessly watch. His pride won't allow him to change the filter he uses he made that himself it's his damnit! it'd be useless anyways, they'd just copy that too .

What can he do? are there legal repercussions? can he even copyright that? or is he doomed to be the biggest meme for the next 3 months like all public figures are subject to in life? Does L even notice?

So can I request an L-centric headcanon for this? You don't have to do it right away! Write whenever you feel like it! I just thought it'd be funny. Have a happy holiday!✨

–🍰 anon

That's My Voice! ╾ L

PFFTJSBAHHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE?! this is the best way to start of 2024 pfft

also I have rested and relaxationed™ so I am doing a hc/story snippet mix!

okay okay yes. let's go.

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

It's hard to say how quickly L would notice if this happened. Perhaps on the first day; perhaps he'd remain oblivious until it all blew over. the former is more likely than the latter.

but oh gosh once he notices...

Putting the key in the lock and turning it, you expected to find L standing right in the doorframe to greet you, the affectionate weirdo that he is. But he's staring in horror at one of the monitors lighting the room, mouth wide open and a lollipop forgotten in his mouth.

"y/n, they've stolen my voice!"

he probably hasn't encountered this kind of technology outside of like, criminals faking voices to commit crime or whatever so he's completely confused as to how and why ordinary citizens are using the voice filter he spent months of his childhood tinkering with.

they should make their own! can't he use copyright or something?!

"Oh, don't worry so much, L. It's just a trend, it will blow over quickly! There is no harm in them having fun."

He throws his arms in the air and for a moment you're concerned he's going to tip his seat over again. "What do you mean there's no harm?! They are 'simping,'" with the most dramatic air quotes you have ever seenー L must have learnt the term and immediately decided it did not deserve to be a wordー "for a cartoon man named Miguel from Arachnid-Man! In my voice, y/n!"

And you burst out laughing, which doesn't seem to help at all.

L goes silent and furious for a good hour as he desperately searches for a way to stop this from happening. I don't know the copyright laws myself, but I imagine as it isn't L's real voice and he likely wouldn't have seen the need to apply for a patent (or whatever equivalent there is to protect a voice filter), he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

he would still seriously consider taking these good-for-nothings to court though...

You watch with both a- and bemusement as L taps his bottom lip over and over, fast.

"L," you say, "what are you thinking?"

It's not a good sign when that British accent begins to fall over his words. "I am weighing up how likely it is I would win a court case to sue for millions, strip these imbeciles of the right to technology, and publicly humiliate them. Do you think we could bring back tar-and-feathering...?"

DO NO T LET HIM. hahags it will take a solid hour or more of convincing but L will eventually give up, pouting and dedicatedly following the hashtag #iamLtoo

he might actually learn a lot about popular culture

he might also fall out of his chair in shock and cry

so, you win some, you lose some. maybe it's best to just take away his browsing privileges and remind him of whatever case he's working on. DISTRACT DISTRACT!

you're right, his pride would definitely stop him from trying to stop these "trollers" (he called them trolleys at least three times) via changing his voice filter. He made it himself, he won't give it up because of some teen living in their parents' garage!!! Though he might try to rig a program to detect people using it and delete their accounts or whatever

not sure how to segue into this one but here's another story bit

After finally calming L down and reminding him the tar-and-feather punishment was abolished for a reason, you manage to get into bed for some rest. To your surprise, L joins you, staring expressionlessly at the ceiling. This is what he always does when thinking, so you assume his mind is on the case and he's forgotten about the whole voice fiasco until he starts... cackling.

"L..."

Yep, there's a good chance he'll swing from "this is the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me ever!!??'!;;'!;';!!;"! :(" to quoting the memes.

he might actually really enjoy some of them.

though it's hard to tell if he genuinely thinks some of what these "trolleys" are doing is creative and amusing or if it's just a coping strategy for the next few months.

well, that is until he makes a subtle reference to the most viral of the videos in his next address to the public...

after that I'm afraid the craze sets off once again

L will sit back and watch with a smile

though if one of the uses of his voice filter insults him the whole thing is shut down faster than you can say tar-and-feathers

"You're a strange man, you know that?"

"So is this 'Miguel' character."

　★━━─・‥…━━━☆

𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜

#ehdhehhe this was actually so fun to write i did it in what ten minutes? 15?#lei's lawliet #death note #l lawliet #writing #dn #x reader #fluff #crack #anons #🍰 anon #lei writes #writers on tumblr #death note crack #death note headcanons #death note hc #death note imagines #l death note #quick read

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celandeline · 3 months

Text

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (27)

I watch Venetia pour herself another glass of wine with a shaking hand.

It’s lunch, and it isn’t at the same time. We are scattered around the table in complete silence - only James and Elspeth eat. I didn’t understand what people meant when they said ‘the cold-hearted English’ before, but I do now, watching as they all pretend that nothing has happened, even when their son’s body is still in the backyard. I look down at the untouched slice of shepherd's pie on my plate. I need to get out of this house. I need to throw up.

The quiet click of shoes on the wood signals Duncan’s arrival.

Elspeth pats her napkin around her lips. “What is it, Duncan?”

Duncan’s voice is pained. “It's the police, Your Ladyship. They are...er...having trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Elspeth asks.

A brief moment of silence lingers before Duncan speaks again. “They keep getting lost in the maze.”

Another moment of silence permeates the room, until Farleigh laughs, sharp and sad. It echoes around the dining room, even after James shoots an icy glare in his direction. James’s attention turns to Duncan. “And?”

“May I send one of the gardeners to assist them?” Duncan looks straight ahead, never meeting James’s eyes.

James turns his attention back to his plate. “Fine.”

Duncan disappears, shoes clicking back down the hall. For a moment the table is silent, only the sounds of James and Elspeth’s forks scraping against their plates echoing around the room. Venetia drains her glass of wine. Next to me, Farleigh sits stock still in his seat. I know that if I look at either of them I’ll start crying, so I don’t.

At the end of the table, Elspeth forces a smile. “Oliver, darling. Why don't you tell us about last night?”

Across the table, Oliver looks up from his plate. “Last night?”

Elspeth stills smiles. “Mmmm. Did you have a lovely time?”

“Yeah.” Oliver says. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”

Wonderful? Felix died. I watch in amazement and horror as half the table pretends that nothing happened - that there isn’t a dead body in the backyard.

“Oh good!” Elspeth presses on. “I think it was a hit, don't you darling?”

“Oh yes.” James agrees. “A triumph.”

A triumph. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I feel like I might vomit right here at the table, spilling my guts across the patterned tablecloth.

“Yes, the house looked good.” Elspeth says.

“Beautiful.” James chimes in.

Oliver perks up again. “And that cake was-”

“Oh did you like it?” Elspeth cuts him off, tittering. “I never had any in the end. That’s always the way, isn’t it? You end up running around so much you miss the actual party.”

The click of shoes on the wood signals Duncan’s arrival again.

James doesn’t even look at him, his voice tight. “What now?”

Duncan leans down, close to James ear - but the room is so quiet I can hear him anyway. “May I be permitted to close the curtains, sir? The coroner is outside and may need to pass the window-”

James interrupts him. “Yes. Thank you. Close them.”

Duncan stands up, and walks to the window as Oliver continues. “I don't normally like chocolate cake.”

Elspeth nods. “Yes it can be cloying, can't it?”

“But last night it was so light!” Oliver says.

“Yes Lynn has always been an expert with cakes.” Elspeth says. “Yes, cold hands apparently. You have to have cold hands.”

Oliver nods. “I’ve heard that. So the butter doesn't melt.”

The room begins to darken, the red curtains casting a wash of deep burgundy over the room. I watch as the fabric catches in the track, and Duncan tugs at it, trying to work it loose.

Elspeth is in a world of her own, “Although I would think that applies more to pastry than it does to cake-”

James cuts her off. “Duncan, just get them closed, for Christ's sake!”

Duncan pulls at the curtain almost frantically. “Yes, I am trying sir, I can’t-”

One of the footmen rushes over, and the curtains finally close. The dining room is bathed in blood, and the sound of the gurney rolling by filters through the room. James plugs his ears, shaking his head. Elspeth almost chokes, bringing her napkin up to her mouth. I don’t notice the wine spilling out of Venetia’s glass until it seeps over to my plate, staining the tablecloth the same color as the curtains.

As soon as the squeaking of the gurney wheels fades into the distance, Farleigh rises from his seat, voice shaking. “Oh my god... May I be excused, please?”

James' voice is harsh. “No. We haven’t finished lunch?”

Farleigh is almost in tears, pacing. “The lunch is cold! You want me to just eat it like nothing is happening?”

Elspeth looks at Farleigh, with the first glimmer of sadness I’ve seen from her since the body was found. “What else is there to do, darling?”

Farleigh sobs. “Anything! Anything-”

A loud bang shocks through the room as James slams his fist on the table. Farleigh freezes - I flinch on instinct.

“Farleigh!” James roars. “Will you be quiet?! Sit down, and eat the bloody pie! Just eat it! Eat it and shut up! Eat the bloody pie!”

Farleigh drops back into his seat, almost shaking - from tears or fear, I don’t know.

James takes a breath, and then continues. “You're not the only person here with feelings. None of us wants your bloody American feelings!”

A silence stretches over the table. I watch Farleigh try to eat, and fail, crying too hard to choke anything down. I don’t even try - between stumbling upon Felix’s dead body, and the sharp pit of resentment that’s settled in my gut from James’ yelling, I’m not eating anything for a while. I need to leave. I need to go home-

Oliver’s quiet voice breaks the silence. “I think it’s delicious.”

Farleigh explodes. “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

Oliver turns his icy blue eyes on Farleigh, and a shiver runs up my spine. Just being in the periphery of his stare is enough to make me uncomfortable. It’s unsettling, how normal he’s acting. Like his best friend didn’t just die.

“Wait, does no one else find it weird?” Farleigh continues. “No one else finds that weird?”

Oliver’s tone is unnaturally level. “I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh.”

“Excuse me?” Farleigh almost laughs.

On my other side, Venetia mutters, sounding tired. “Please stop.”

James’ eyes turn to Farleigh. “What is he saying?”

“I have no idea.” Farleigh says, still focused on Oliver.

“What I'm saying is that I'd feel guilty too…” Oliver shrugs.

“Guilty?” Farleigh asks.

There’s a glint in Oliver’s eye as he finishes his sentence. “If I was the one racking up lines the night someone died.”

This time, the silence that descends is one of shock. A cold streak runs down my spine, and I turn to look at Farleigh. His gaze is stony, focused on Oliver.

“Fuck you.” He spits.

Oliver only blinks, glancing at James. “That’s not a denial.”

James is pale with fury - even more than when he shouted earlier. “Is that true?” He nods to Duncan. “Search Farleigh’s room.”

All the fire in Farleigh dissipates at once, and he begins to cry again. “No…”

But it's too late - Duncan nods sharply, and backs out of the room. Emotions rush through me all at once - panic, anger, despair. Farleigh crumples back into his chair, utterly defeated. I need to leave-

“Get out.” James is unflinching, staring at Farleigh.

“No, wait-” Farleigh sniffles.

Elspeth finally tunes into the conversation. “What’s happening?”

Farleigh turns to her. “Aunt Elspeth… Elspeth..?”

James is almost yelling again. “Don’t you dare look at her!” He rages. “Get out! I won't mention this to the police. That's all you get. Nothing more. Ever again. I-”

Whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by the scrape of my chair against the hardwood floor. I rise quickly, before I even really know that I’m going to do it. All the eyes in the room shift to me, but I say nothing, simply grabbing Farleigh by the arm and hauling him out of his seat. My heart is pounding like I’ve just run a marathon.

I walk out of the room, pulling Farleigh with me.

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#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

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simpledyiing · 2 years

Text

From Paper to Reality ∥ P. Mitchell

Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x (Student) Y/N

Word count - 7k

Y/CS - Your call sign (EX. Hollywood, Dutch, Barbie)

Summary: Y/N has a crush on her instructor, Maverick but can't act on it… haha unless... FUCKING ANGST

A/N: I'm sorry if this is complete shit, please have mercy on my soul. AND No hate to Rooster, I absolutely love him so don't come for me. If anyone wants to get drunk and sing along with Seresin - the song is linked here on Youtube fire by the pointer sisters

1986 — Texas, United States of America

The sun was shining through the little quaint suburb as the birds chirped in sync with sprinklers as they pelt droplets of water on the earth below. The only thing breaking the rhythm was the Paper boy’s bicycle wheels and the thuds of the daily paper hitting against the door to land perfectly on the Y/L/N’s welcome mat.

At the tell-tale sign of the daily paper being just outside the door, Y/N’s mother was bouncing a fussy three year old on her hip. She made her way through the living room to reach the front door, while speaking in a gentle tone considering she has spent the last 10 minutes trying to calm Y/N down, but unfortunately nothing was working. “Aww sweetie pie, what’s the matter? Huh, what’s got you crying like this… shhh it’s okay baby” after placing a gentle kiss on the crying child’s forehead, Y/N’s mother swung the door open and bent down to retrieve the daily newspaper, and at that the crying stopped. The tired woman looked down at the child in her arms and noticed Y/N was hyper-fixated on the front cover photo of a Handsome brunette pilot smiling in front of an F-14 surrounded by several crew members “Huh a Naval pilot really, Your daddy might have a bit of a problem with that sweetcheeks”

Y/N’s crying fit started the second her mother took the paper from her clinging little hands, after a good ten minutes Y/N’s wish was granted as the front cover of the paper was laid in front of her sitting position “Tanks momma” slipped the little girl’s lips as she smiled down at the paper.

The front door of the Y/L/N’s home was gently opened as Y/N’s father peeked into the house to try and not disturb Y/N if she was asleep, but as he walked further into the living room he noticed his daughter was absent from her usual spot, he was ripped from his confused state when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen.

As he entered the kitchen his gaze checked the surrounding area to try and find the little terror known as his daughter, but at last Y/N was not in the kitchen “Hey honey, uh where’s Y/N at? The little munchkin isn't in the living room” all he got in response was a tired sigh escaping his wife’s lips before she closed the oven door “I don’t even know at this point, I think she’s sitting under the stairs.. but how was your day hun?” the sound of a chair scraping along the hardwood filled the quiet kitchen, as he dropped his weight into the seat “It was good besides Daniel being a dickhead but that’s normal…. Uh, Honey where is the front page of the paper?”

The sound of his wife’s laugh filtered through the surrounding air “Your daughter” lifting his gaze from the little black symbols covering the page towards his wife “what do you mean Y/N” confusion was laced through his words as he simply stared dumbfounded at the woman in front of him, waiting for her to continue. “Well, you see your sweet little princess is in love! Y/N started crying after you left for work and pretty much spent the whole day balling her eyes out. She finally stopped crying when the paper came with some naval pilot on the front cover. I took the paper away and she started crying again soooo the front page is hers, don’t even think about taking it away from her cuz if you do, I will beat you three ways to Sunday”

Y/N’s father blinked three times processing the information that just flooded his brain, “She stopped crying because of some pilot on the front page?” with a simple nod from his wife, the chair scraped once against the wood as he heads towards the cubby under the staircase, but the soft floral dress hiding under an end table caught his attention, bending down to see his smiling daughter holding the front cover of the paper “Hiii daddy” he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, “Hi princess, what do you have there?” Y/N reached her arms out to show her father the front page “Mommy said I could have it!” before Y/N knew it she was being pulled out from under the table and into her father’s arms “Hmmm Honey, you are a little too young for boys, and I rather you stay away from military men”

After that Y/N’s mother went around the neighborhood and asked if she could have their front cover page of the newspaper, considering this naval pilot by the name of Lieutenant Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was the only thing that stopped her daughter from crying endless amounts of tears…. She wasn’t going to risk losing this gift from the skies so she ended up with a stockpile of 43 cover photos of Lt. Mitchell, she even laminated a few and stored the rest in a ziplock bag with parchment paper separating each paper.. Just to be safe!

2000 - Texas, United States of America

The Y/L/N’s resident was filled with laughter and inflated overlapping voices that floated through the baby pink balloons and glittery party streamers that cascaded down from the ceiling, it was Y/N’s seventeenth birthday.

Y/N was currently surrounded by her four aunties, that were currently on attempt #5 of trying to set her up with several different boys, that they know ‘you aren’t getting any younger’ was their chant of the day. The only thing saving the poor girl was her father, “My princess doesn’t care about boys, she’s too busy picking which Ivy league university she is attending, isn't that right pumpkin?” a nervous laugh slipped past her lips accompanied with “Yes, sir! Haha have you seen mom?” the four women surrounding them rolled their eyes, as a proud smile formed on her father’s face “She is in the kitchen, hun” Y/N quickly nodded thanks towards her dad as she made her way towards the kitchen.

The heat radiating from the oven warmed the air around, as a gentle hum floats through the kitchen “Momma, I need to talk to you about something” Y/N’s mother turned her gaze away from the half-frosted cake sitting on the counter towards her daughter “What’s wrong, baby?” Y/N sighed as she dragged herself to sit in the empty chair in front of her mother “Momma, y’know how dad wants me to go to a big ivy league college… well I don’t want to... I-I want to join the Navy and become a pilot” the icing spatula in her mother’s hand fell to the ground with a soft plop “YOU WHAT?” she winced slightly at her mother’s predictable reaction “Mom, you have known this for years. This is all I have ever wanted since I was three years old. Please I need your help I don’t know how to tell Dad, I know he’s going to be extremely pissed off that his pride and joy rather go to naval boot camp than Baylor or A&M but this is what I want to do, will you please help me?” Her mother was silent as she cleaned the dropped spatula under the faucet, before shifting her gaze towards her daughter “Baby if this is what you want, I support you no matter what… We can figure out how to break the news to your father after dinner, okay? But you are a 1000% sure, that this is what you want to do?” Y/N didn’t hesitate as the words pushed off her tongue “Yes, I’m 1 million percent sure, that this is what I want” after a few moments of silence, a heavy sigh passed Y/N’s mother’s lips “Well honey, I’m not going to crush your dreams or spirit, that what life is for” shaking her head as she reached out to hug her daughter.

The day came when Y/N broke the news to her father, as ‘United States Naval Academy’ slipped off her tongue that was the moment she saw the light disappear from his eyes as confusion and disappointment took over. Y/N’s Father thought she was sitting him down to tell him the great news, that she finally decided on a University.. At that moment he knew he should’ve thrown out a certain newspaper, but he knew nothing was going to change Y/N’s mind and opted for the peaceful route of supporting his daughter’s decision. Considering he knew Y/N was going to put everything she had into it and would be top of her class ‘When’ she goes to Top Gun….Which he was correct about, and bragged about even years after she graduated from top gun.

2020 - USS Carl Vinson

If someone told Lt. Y/N ‘Y/CS’ Y/L/N that she would be back at Top Gun she would have called them crazy and laughed in their faces, well that was Y/N’s exact reaction as her superior notified her of her call-back status. Y/N’s time at Top Gun was a love-hate relationship considering she learned her weaknesses and sharpened her skills, and also crossed paths with her best friend, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. Looking from an outside perspective Y/N had everything and she was envied by her fellow peers, not only was she always top of the class because of her flying skills but the instructors loved her.

But Y/N didn’t have everything, she was in a deep state of depression and was only truly happy when she was flying, considering her three year long relationship with her fiance fell apart when he cheated on her, after that heartbreak her mother was diagnosed with cancer…. but the heaviest hit was her mother dying a two weeks before her graduation.

However, all of those memories and emotions were pushed aside when Phoenix pulled Y/N into a long overdue hug. Even though Y/N was dreading tomorrow, it was still comforting to see a friendly familiar face and I guess… Hangman’s too even though she spent 4 months on a naval carrier with him a couple of months prior to this.

The ringing of a bell filtered through the cramp barroom as it roared to life with cheering, as patrons made their way over to the bar’s counter just as Hangman was weaving through with two glasses in his hands and his trademark smirk. “What’s got you so happy?” Y/N’s words were punctuated with the full glasses landing against the hardwood table “Drinks are on the old guy at the bar, tsk tsk Grandpa didn’t read the sign” Y/N tilted her head to catch a glimpse of the poor guy at the bar but gave up shortly afterwards “hmm I don’t know why you are getting giddy over that, considering you will be that old guy sitting at a bar alone in 10 years” Hangman’s smirked dropped at the thought before leaning closer to his female counterpart “Oh Honey don’t tell me you forgot about our little deal…” as his words drifted through the surrounding air it sparked curiosity in the WSO sitting across, pushing his glasses up along with ‘What Deal?” The groan that emitted from Y/N was a tell-tale sign to stop the conversation but Seresin ignored her protests “Well you see my dear friend, Y/N and I made a deal that if we weren’t married in 10 years.. Well 8 years now, we would get married” the smirk never left his face, even after Phoenix slapped Y/N’s arm “Are you serious right now? Y/N I thought better of you, I am so disappointed and offended right now” rubbing the spot just assaulted by the firey brunette “What I was drunk at the time and wHy are you offended?” her confused state dropped as Natasha replied with “I’m offended because you didn’t ask me first for a marriage pact” Seresin swallowed down his beer before standing up to head over to the pool tables with a “Should have been faster Phoenix, cuz that ass is going to be mine in 8 years” ….

The room was dark except for the moonlight cascading through the window, usually that would be a comfort to her but Y/N was too focused on trying to match her breathing to the low melody coming from the chirping crickets outside her window considering sleep was evading her. Anxiety was washing over her like the California waves gliding over the shoreline, which led her to stare blankly at the small depressions lining the surface of her bedroom ceiling as she flipped through her memories as if it was an old photo album. Y/N knew this was a dangerous past time, but she couldn’t help but indulge this sadistic need as she thought about how tightly her mother embraced her before being torn apart from one another as Y/N left for the Navy. She could still hear her mother’s crying pleas for her to be safe and telling her to try and call, as her father sent her a proud smile accompanied by “Give ‘em hell, pumpkin.”

Y/N’s thoughts soon drifted through what-ifs… how her life would have been so different if she went to that Ivy league school, that her father wanted so desperately for her. She started to wonder if she should thank her 3-year-old self or curse her, considering if she never threw that crying tantrum that morning, she would have never found out about the United States Navy in the form of Lt. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell plastered across the front page of the newspaper. But in all honesty not all the blame could be pushed onto three year old Y/N, considering her mother collected 43 copies of the newspaper’s cover and even framed it… at that thought Y/N’s gaze drifted from the off-white ceiling towards the dresser, where three picture frames sat proudly atop of the worn wood; a family photo, a teenage Y/N clinging onto her childhood dog, and the old 1986’s newspaper cover.

She couldn't help but shake her head as a laugh slipped through her lips, considering how ridiculous she was as if she was still that crying three year old girl clinging to the ivory colored newspaper for comfort, as if Lt. Pete Mitchell in paper form was going to dry her tears and hush her worries, unfortunately the thought was cut short when the blaring sound of her alarm disrupted the silence.

The room was spacious but it still didn’t help to drown out her peers' loud chattering, nor the argument brewing between Rooster and Hangman but soon none of that mattered considering Y/N’s focus was aimed at the desk, where a dark blue cup sat with NAVY plastered across the front in bold gold font. Her attention shifted from the design to imagine how long the cup had been abandoned for considering steam stopped rising from it ten minutes ago, and most importantly who left it.

Y/N’s daydreaming was cut off once again almost like deja vu of this morning the only difference was instead of her alarm, it was Hangman producing the annoying sound. Y/N slowly tilted her head to look up at Seresin’s smirking face “Aww did the baby get tired of Bradshaw already?”

Hangman shifted back and forth while rolling his eyes at the younger pilot “No, I just rather spend some quality time with you, sweetheart.. Plus you are a lot easier on the eyes than Bradshaw, so move over” Y/N huffed out a laugh as Bradshaw muttered a ‘fuck you’ but complied with Hangman’s request and moved over to the unoccupied seat. Shortly after that it didn’t take long for Phoenix to drop down next to her, as y’all waited patiently for the instructor to show.

The sound of boots hitting cement over and over echoed through the room as the previously rowdy aviators waited with bated breaths as their heads turned in the direction of the entrance to get a single glance at their instructor.

A mere glimpse of the man’s face was all it took considering three year old Y/N spent hours looking at that man, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. The emotions that flooded her system were a mixture of excitement and mortification as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming, unfortunately the quiet “fuck me no no no” slipped through her lips, which caught Phoenix’s attention as her eyes shifted from Maverick to Y/N “What’s wrong?” Ignoring her, Y/N tilted her head towards Maverick as he lifted the Navy cup off the desk to meet his lips, Which answered Y/N’s previous question as she caught the slight grimace taking over his facial expression as he willed himself to swallow down the cold coffee.

As Maverick’s gaze shifted from the manila folders laid out on the desk to lock eyes with her, the warm comforting smile he sent her way, only frightened the pilot more.. And at that moment Y/N knew her Love-Hate relationship with Top Gun would once repeat itself..

Grunting between deep exhales of air was accompanied by Y/N’s tired sigh escaping her lips as she pushed herself back down just to repeat another sixty times. This was her punishment considering Bradshaw had a tantrum in the sky and bailed as her wingman to go after Maverick, which result in Rooster being ‘shot’ and Y/N a couple of minutes afterwards.

“I’m sorry Y/CS, I should have stuck to the plan” filtered through a low grunt as Rooster pushed his body up from the planked position, “It’s okay birdboy, I was planning on doing 200 pushups after we got back anyways!... but just don’t leave me hanging next time please” Rooster nodded at Y/N as she reached her punishment goal before collapsing face first into the concert to try and cool herself down.

Maverick huffed out a laugh at Y/N’s state “That’s 200 Y/L/N, you are done for the day.. And good job out there” Y/N’s bad mood shifted to pure joy from hearing his praise, but the only response she could muster in her current state was slowly pulling her right arm up to give him a thumbs up.

At the moment Y/N was currently in the Love part of her relationship with Top Gun, considering she was learning how to perfect her dogfighting skill from her hero but was also developing a friendly/flirty relationship with Maverick. She was in pure bliss until her father showed up “Pumpkin!” echoed through the Hard Deck as the familiar voice pierced her ears.

Y/N’s face dropped as she tilted her head away from Maverick to the man approaching her “Oh fuck… Dad! What are you doing here? And how did you know I was even here?” Upon seeing his daughter’s face, a warm smile grew as he finally reached his little girl “I wanted to surprise you! So I called Natasha and she told me I would find you here… and I just wanted to check up on you, considering you’re back at Top Gun”

Before Y/N could respond to her dad, Seresin’s voice broke the silence “Pumpkin? Huh cute” her soft smile dropped as she sent him a death glare over her father’s shoulder.

Y/N pulled herself from her father’s embrace and shifted towards the team as she introduced everyone, he interrupted her before she could finish “Isn’t that the guy from the front page of the newspaper that you were obsessed with? God it’s like from paper to reality huh” Y/N’s smile dropped as she blinked three times as Maverick’s voice filtered through the suffocating air around her “Newspaper?.. Wait was it from the 80s?”

Y/N flinched as her father clapped his hands together “Yes, 1986 front page of the daily paper! When Y/N was younger she was obsessed with it, you were the only thing that could stop my little girl from crying, No matter what” Y/N felt her father nudge her but no words were formed “Honey, do you still have that thing hanging up in your room” when no response was giving he continued “She probably does, considering she took it with her when she joined the Navy…. But I got to say it’s an honor to meet the man that made my job easier, considering all the boys in her hometown envied you and she didn’t even bat an eye at them. She was too busy gawking at yo…” her father’s words fell flat as they muffled against Y/N’s hand “DAd, stop talking now… we are leaving now” without waiting for a reply Y/N dragged him with her towards the door, Y/N’s father waved goodbye as he involuntarily followed.

Hangman was holding his stomach as he laughed out “Oh that’s beautiful, Thank you, Phoenix for giving me this ammunition to use against her” Phoenix’s head shot up before setting her jaw “ Don’t be an ass, bagman” Seresin rolled his eyes at the angry brunette and shifted his line of sight to the aging captain “Oh apple of Y/N’s eyes” after the words slipped thru his lips a pained ‘ow’ accompanied it as Phoenix decked him.

The hard deck was filled with overlapping voices and laughter, as the team crowded around the pool table and surrounding chairs, Y/N instead made a beeline towards the chair against the bar counter considering she was tired of being the butt of the joke, No one seemed to notice.. Except for Maverick.

Which is how he found himself filling the empty seat to her left after a few moments he nudged her “Hey Y/CS, you okay?” Y/N tilted her head to meet his gaze before a heavy sigh was released “Well, considering Hangman has nicked you as ‘Apple of Y/N’s eyes’ mmm and my dad is staying with me for the week, I think I could be better y’know…” a slight hum in agreeance followed her words “Mav, can we just pretend that last night never happened?”

A laugh filtered around the two of them “Was it really that embarrassing for you? I thought it was sweet especially since all the boys in your hometown envied me, little bit of an ego boost… But I am curious do you still have it hanging up” Y/N sat in silence as she sucked in a deep breath “Yes it really was embarrassing for me, but I am so thrilled you are getting a kick out of this.. And yeah it’s still up, but the reason has changed over time. Yeah I had a massive crush on you, but you were the reason why I joined the Navy, I admired you and I still do but after I graduated from Top Gun the reason changed…”

Penny interrupted your thought process as she laid drinks in front of yall, Maverick shot her a small smile with a ‘thank you’ before turning his attention back to Y/N “why did it change..what is the reason now?” but she didn’t reciprocate the action, instead she just stared blankly at the bubbles rising to the top of her beer “When I was little, I would cry endlessly after my dad would leave for work and then one day I saw you on the front page and the crying just stopped. After that my mom went around the neighborhood and collected ‘43’ copies of the front cover, just to make sure I would always have you there to comfort me… So yeah the reason now, it reminds me of my mother’s love, considering not many people would go through the hassle just to make sure I wouldn’t cry ever again…” a thud followed as she pushed her glass back and forth, “it’s a hard choice to pick which reason I like more, but I think it's going to be… the first one”

The dull smack to his upper right arm was her feeble attempt to try and reprimand him, but it only encouraged the smile growing on his face as he reached to give her wrist a small shake, to try and get her attention. “I’m kidding…mostly, but I will say this, I care a lot about you and I am here for you no matter what, in paper form and physically.”

They fell into a comforting silence as Y/N leaned against him the small ‘thanks mav’ was almost drowned out by the loudness of the bar, but the soft smile forming on Maverick’s face confirmed he heard her.

Remember that promise Rooster made about not leaving Y/N hanging? Well, he broke it but this time it almost resulted in Y/N ejecting from her F-14. Everything was going according to plan Y/N took the lead and Rooster was sticking to his promise, until he got in his head and drifted off course and comms to go after Maverick, “Roo you alright? … Rooster do you copy” silence was all she heard over the comms. Y/N understood why he got antsy and jumped the gun considering Maverick shot them down each training session, but she wasn’t expecting Rooster to jerk his plan roughly up, the bad maneuver caused the nose of her F-14 to take a sharp pitch downwards as Y/N’s head slammed against the canopy. The blaring beeps bounced off the canopy disrupting Y/N’s dazed state as the comms lit up “EJECT, Y/CS EJECT NOW… Y/N CAN YOU HEAR ME…” Y/N felt like throwing up as the blood dripped down the front of her right eyebrow, before pulling forward to try and level out the plane before hitting the hard deck, which worked considering the nose of the plane was once again level with the tail.

The second Y/N’s boots touched the ground she was throwing her guts up only pausing to let out a strained “Natasha!” as the brunette took quick strides over to comfort her while sending the gathering crowd a sharp glare for gawking at the scene “Go get her water now” was barked at an onlooker. Y/N wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as she smiled fondly at Phoenix, “Have I told you about how much I love you” a faint laugh was pulled out from the two before labored breaths from Maverick and Rooster floated through the air “Y/N.. are you okay”

Y/N slowly removed her flight helmet, grimacing as she threw it to the side before her eyes slowly moved to watch the bird soaring above her as a pained laugh followed by “You lucky bastard’ left her chapped lips. Maverick and Phoenix were in front of her instantly upon noticing the crimson liquid dripping down on her flight suit “Jesus Christ, you’re bleeding.. We need to get her to med bay” the only indication that Y/N was aware of the situation was the slight shake of her head and a slurred “Mavvv don’t tell my dad a-about this”

Tension rose among the team, considering Maverick would snap at them for making the tiniest mistake, but everyone thought it would dissolve after Y/N was healed up and cleared to fly again, but it didn’t because Maverick grounded her without a reason after she was given the green light to fly. Y/N shrugged it off but the next day he grounded her from flying again.

Anger washed over Y/N’s form as she waited patiently in the chair adjacent to the desk in Maverick’s office. She was rightfully pissed considering the accident wasn’t even her fault, but the fact that she couldn’t even be up in the one place that makes her truly happy, all because of Maverick.

Y/N’s eyes were piercing through the once again abandoned ‘Navy’ cup that sat proudly on his cluttered desk, she almost had to laugh considering it felt like deja vu of her first day back except the cup didn’t spark her curiosity to daydream about its owner or its story, instead it seemed to mock her childish antics. The sound of the door squeaking open tore her gaze from it, as she waited for Maverick to step into her peripheral “Y/N? Hey, I hope you weren’t waiting for too long…” he trailed off upon seeing her blank facial expression “What’s wrong? Is your head hurting?” As Maverick sat on the edge of his desk, concern was laced in his features as she took a deep breath “I want to know why you grounded me for TWO days in a row after I was given the green light…Mav why, I need an answer?” silence filled the space for what felt like minutes “Y/N, just give it a couple more days” Y/N rolled her eyes at his sorry excuse for an answer, as she pulled herself up to meet his eyes “That’s not an answer, that’s you trying to avoid the question”

Maverick’s eyes scanned the office as if he was trying to avoid the disheveled pilot's gaze, but in reality he was weighing his options “You didn’t follow orders, I told you to eject and you ignored a direct command. You could have passed out up there and crashed, you could have d-died… Y/N, I already lost one person I care about.. On my watch, I’m not going to lose another so just drop it, please.. You are grounded until I say otherwise”

Maverick locked eyes with her as she wiped a hand across her face, “People die every day, let me do my fucking job I’m not some naive child I know what I am doing, especially up there.. But This isn’t about me though is it? This is about you. If you truly cared about me, you would know grounding me is the last thing I need.” She shook her head as a scoff slipped through her lips before turning towards the door, ignoring Maverick’s calls as she slammed the frosted glass door shut behind her as she walked straight into Hangman’s chest “Y/N, hey what’s wrong?” his gaze shifted from the Maverick’s office door before turning Y/N with him to walk in the other direction “How about we go shoot a few rounds of pool at the Hard Deck? Hmm drinks are on me”

The sound of the frosted door rattling against the wall after Y/N stormed out echoed through his thoughts on repeat the only thing that seemed to help drown it out was the monotonous conversation and low laughter that carried through the bar. The heavy sigh released from the aging pilot, as he dropped himself into the bar stool in front of Penny had her raising a brow in question to his soured mood “What’s wrong?” followed along with a freshly poured beer pushed in front of him “Nothing Pen, it was just a long day… um, have you seen Y/N today?” Penny’s brow rose even higher, before pointing to the corner of the bar “long day my ass, what did you do? The poor girl looked like she was about to burst into tears or kill someone when she came in here … but either way if you are going to try and fix whatever you did, you might want to wait for her to sober up” Maverick shifted in his seat to look in the direction she had pointed in, Y/N was clearly drunk and swaying to the jukebox while absentmindedly singing along to the chorus.

The one too many tequila shots produced a numb feeling that successfully pushed her dejected thoughts away for a good couple of hours, she glanced through the bar as Hangman was failing miserably to work the jukebox, and refused her help saying it was ‘a surprise’ before pushing her away. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his childish antics but stayed in place, still swaying slightly to the melody of the bar chatter, until the familiar chorus of Fire rang through her ears as Seresin slurred “I'm ridin' in your caar, you turn on the radio…You're pullllin' me clooose” to try and cheer her up as he pulled her towards him as the pair sung in unison and off pitch, “I just say no,I saaay I don't like it b-but you know I'm a liaar” before others crowded in to join in on their slurred rendition.

Maverick’s eyes were glued to the scene unfolding across the bar, Y/N giggled as Hangman sway her hips back and forth to the beat. At the sight, Maverick’s facial expression was laced with disappointment, before he turned away to reposition himself at the bar’s counter. Maverick was unaware of the suspicions brewing in the brunette’s head, as he brought the glass up to his lips the words slipped out of Penny’s “You’re in love with her?” Penny’s laugh was accompanied by his choking sound, before he could dismiss her accusation he was shushed as Penny shot him a pointed look “yea I am” was huffed out. The look of victory graced her lips as his shoulders dropped in defeat “Well go tell her that loverboy before it’s too late, and do me a favor give her a ride home”

Her face was flushed against the cool bar top, providing her flustered state a bit of relief, she couldn’t help but laugh at her current state considering her mother would be ripping her a new one, grumbling on ‘Y/N sit up that’s unladylike’. The worn table would have been an uncomfortable bed, but Y/N looked past the stickiness and closed her eyes until she felt someone’s callous hands touch the top of her shoulders. A groan of protest left her body as she forced herself to see who disturbed her peaceful table nap, it was Maverick staring down at her with concern swimming through his green irises “Hi Mavv! No wait no, I’m still mad at you so kindly fuck off” the smile forming on his lips stopped her from returning to her nap “Hello to you too, I know you are but can we talk.. Please?” after a few moment’s pasted, as she weighed her options, Y/N figured she could put a pause on her nap for another five minutes “sure, I guess” as she waited for him to drop down in the chair that was previously occupied by Hangman, but he continued to stand behind her “Let me guess, you want to talk outside?” the second he nodded, the agitated pilot lifted herself with a tired sigh as she stumbled slightly to the door.

The humid California air hitting against her flush face made her want to vomit, the only thing saving her was the almost non-existent breeze as she tried to focus on the man in front of her “You are good to fly tomorrow.. Well that’s if your hangover allows it” confusion swept over her features “A few hours ago you grounded me indefinitely just to give me the green light now, what changed?” The usually confident pilot started to fidget under her gaze, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N “You were right, okay I grounded you because of my own fears not because you weren’t ready, I’m sorry Y/N. It’s just after you passed out in the med bay, I couldn’t leave you and that’s when I realized something changed” The air around them felt suffocating as Y/N took a cautious step towards him, “Yeahh the Doc told me you were there for over three hours, Thanks by the way for being there…But… Pete what changed” curiosity was entangled in her words, as she tried to play it off as indifferent “my feelings towards you changed, my feelings weren’t friendly but instead It was me falling in love with you, but….” All of the air left her lungs as she clung to each breath he took as if the man standing in front of her was the only thing keeping her grounded on this god-forsaken earth. The warmth radiating off of his sunkissed skin was sinking into her’s but it still felt like he was miles away from her, before she was pulling him down to meet her lips.

The groan that slipped past his lips felt almost intoxicating as she melted in the kiss further until it abruptly stopped. Maverick pulled himself away from her parted lips, Y/N froze wondering if she imagined it all but her kiss-swollen lips served as vindication. He couldn’t even look Y/N in her eyes, guilt loomed over him “but we can’t, Y/N we can’t” Her dazed, doe-eyed facial expression dropped to an unreadable blank canvas “What the fuck Pete, what do you mean we can’t?? What is stopping us huh WHAT? He winced at her words, which felt as if they were punctuated with knives “We just can’t Y/N, I’m your instructor if the Navy found out they would fire us both, it’s inappropriate ..I-I shouldn’t have said anything I’m sorry”

The promise she made to her mother rang through her thoughts, ‘never let them see you cry, don’t give ‘em the satisfaction of knowing how much of an effect they’ve over you” but it was too late, she felt hot tears rolling down her face as she muffled the cry that escaped her mouth. She felt pathetic, ashamed of herself at this very moment for putting herself in this situation. Y/N knew from the start coming back to Top Gun was a mistake but she ignored the warnings, she still was ignoring them as Maverick’s hush tone pulled her into a false sense of comfort just by saying her name.

Her body betrayed her in her delirious state, as she contemplated begging him to just give her something, even if it was just holding her shaking frame as tears soaked through his shirt but instead he couldn’t even look at her, and if he did look it would probably be ridden with guilt or pity. “Y’know Mav, out of everyone I never thought you would make me cry, but huh I guess some things change… Just, why the fuck would you even tell me? To get my hopes up? To hurt me?.....” Her vision blurred from the tears, her only sign that he was still there was the dull sound of his apology ‘I’m sorry, Y/N' the sound made her wince as if it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard. “Pete, shut up I don’t care about your ‘I’m sorry’ just can you pretend for five fucking minutes that all your bullshit reasons don’t exist? Because I know for a fact you couldn’t give two flying fucks about the rules, because you are the reckless, and arrogant Captain Pete Mitchell so what changed? mm I have a working theory, y-you are scared of getting attached and then being a fucking failure when you deliberately ruin things…” She wanted a reaction from Maverick just to know that her words had some effect on him, a small part of her hoped his response would be laced with malice just to give her a reason to hate him.

The heavy sigh slipping from his lips made her want to scream or even hit him, just to force him to feel even the slightest bit of pain that he caused her but even then it would just hurt her more to see him in that state. Her blood ran cold as she acknowledge the fact that she was nothing but a lovesick schoolgirl when it came to this man, he could stomp on her heart and fix it all with a small smile. Everything about this man overwhelmed her with conflicting feelings that should have never see the light of day, yet as those two vague words slipped past his lips, “Fuck it” she was hooked, waiting with bated breaths for him to give her anything to grasp onto.

The feeling of warm fingertips skimming across the exposed skin of her waist flooded her system, the firm hand that tilted her head up was purposeful but felt foreign in every way. The overwhelming fear of rejection loomed over her as their lips met once again, with each passing second Y/N was memorizing the feeling of his lips against hers, the way the air felt so constricting around them as she grasp unto every detail that would later agonize her weeping heart in the late hours of the night. Y/N felt as if she was drowning, every nerve in her body was overwhelmed, and her head was buzzing from her thoughts flooding her brain… ‘why is he kissing me?... is this some sort of sick joke?’ Maverick’s lips twitched up into a smirk before a low groan escaped when his back was pushed against the outside wall of the Hard Deck, followed by Y/N’s full body weight. Y/N laughter was muffled against his lip as another groan of protest left his body, as a small 'sorry' 'filtered around them.

It was the calm after the storm as silence filled the void surrounding them, they stayed pressed up against one another “Mav, Where does this leave us now? Pete shifted his gaze from Y/N to stare blankly at the parking lot as if it held the answer, “We will figure it out tomorrow, but right now how about I take you home so you can shove me up against a different wall?” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his antics, even if it caused her cheeks to flush “hmm are you sure your back can handle that?”

Before she knew it she was being pushed off of him and steered towards Maverick’s motorcycle “Watch it, and ehh you’re worth the back pain, sweetheart”......

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