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#i got so close to Ending Things three times and DIDN'T
moon-rivr · 2 days
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so real
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part three of congratulations series masterlist
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)
synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief
author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3
word count: 6.3k
Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures.  Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!
He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.
"Miguel."
"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.
His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.
"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.
Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.
He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.
He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.
Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.
"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.
"Because I needed you."
"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."
"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."
"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.
"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"
"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."
Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."
"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.
"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."
You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.
"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."
Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.
Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.
This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.
He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.
Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.
Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.
Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.
Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.
"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.
After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.
"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.
He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.
Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.
He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.
Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.
Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.
"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,
"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."
Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.
"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.
Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.
And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.
Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.
"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.
He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.
The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.
The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.
"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.
The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.
The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.
He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.
“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”
You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.
“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”
Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.
He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'
He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.
Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.
What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.
After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.
Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.
Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.
All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.
Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.
Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.
Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.
"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.
Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.
He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.
"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.
THUMP
He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.
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ikeuverse · 3 days
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MR. FUNNY GUY — l.heeseung
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PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 3.8k+
WARNINGS: a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.
NOTES: this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!
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Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.
He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.
Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics. 
Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.
Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.
What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.
At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted. 
Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.
"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."
So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.
A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.
But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.
"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it. 
"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."
"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.
You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.
"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.
"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.
It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?
Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.
And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.
Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.
"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.
"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"
"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"
"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.
Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.
"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.
"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.
"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.
"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.
"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.
"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.
"I said you could all make me stop talking—"
"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."
"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.
At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.
"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"
"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."
"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.
What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?
"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."
"Why?"
"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.
"Yeah, he's right," Jake said.
"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.
"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.
"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."
"Yes, kill the three of you."
"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."
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"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.
"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.
"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.
He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.
"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.
"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.
Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.
"What's going on?" you asked.
"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."
"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."
"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.
"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"
"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"
Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.
"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.
"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."
"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"
"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.
It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.
Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.
"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.
He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.
And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.
"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."
"But—"
"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.
"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."
"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings. 
He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.
"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.
"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."
None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?
"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.
"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.
"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.
For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.
Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.
"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.
You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.
"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?
"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.
"Anything," you said.
It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.
"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.
At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.
"What do you mean?"
Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.
"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."
"Does that bother you?"
No. He should answer, to appear tougher.
"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."
He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.
"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.
"Why?" he asked.
You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.
"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."
"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.
"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."
"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.
"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."
It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.
"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.
"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.
"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."
"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.
"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"
Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.
"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."
"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.
"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.
"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.
"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."
"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.
From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.
"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny man."
You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.
A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
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sumn about dionysus’s daughter and percy being obsessed w each other irks be in so kind of way, can i req something about it???
I would come back from death for you .⁠。⁠*⁠♡
— percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader
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warnings: none, i think
a/n: ok, here comes my confession. I don't know if this is something that counts as "obsession" as such because there are different types of it. I wanted it to be a more tender or cute obsession. I don't know, maybe I'll explore more but with a darker side.
The emotion was devouring him from the inside out. He knew he would be leaving in a few days, and even though he'd rather fight Hades himself than give his life on a silver platter, Percy couldn't help struggle with the thought of not being in your arms again.
— I'll go with you — you said, even though you knew it wouldn't happen. — I don't mind dying with you if it's the only way to keep us together.
Really, he wouldn't mind too, but he knew he had to keep you safe. Dionysus would never forgive him if anything happened to you, and to be honest, neither would he. You'd stay; that was the right thing.
The best deal he could get for now was to be together as much as possible until the day came.
You didn't say it, but it had become an obsession for each other. barely at night could separate to go to your respective cabins, and of course, not counting those times when you or he would sneak away to spend more time together. Some campers watched, they knew what was going on but still turned a blind eye because who were they to judge? Besides, it suited them to maintain the discretion or Dionysus would truly be in a bad mood, as having Percy Jackson as a son-in-law was enough for him.
That night, you had already turned off the lights, only the moonlight accompanied you, and you let out a deep grunt that turned into a gasp when you heard a knock on your door, you squinted your eyes and then heard two more knocks, three in total.
Obviously it was Percy, and you quickly got up before anyone could see him in front of your cabin. As soon as you opened, he slipped in between the door and closed it by pressing his heel. When you smelled the worn sunscreen on the curve of his neck, you let out a sigh; it was as if during the time you hadn't been together, you had been slowly holding your breath, suffocating without him.
— I missed you — he murmured, squeezing your body a little tighter. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and leaned back to look at you.
— It's only been an hour since dinner, Pers — you said, and he smiled at the nickname taking your hand to walk with you towards your bed. in the end, you were the only one to sit on the edge of it because percy stayed watching your bedside things, fiddling with and looking at your makeup.
— I'm leaving tomorrow — he said, still with his back to you as he struggled to read the label of a lipgloss, the one that suited you so well and that he never feared smudging when he kissed you.
Your heart raced. —Tomorrow? But...
— Things have changed, Chiron told me — Sadness and anger evident in his voice. Percy wanted to set the world on fire with Leo's help just because he hadn't had a couple more days with you. Instead, he took your perfume in his hands and brought it to his nose to smell it. Trying to imprint it in his memory, at least, until he returned and could smell it from your own body where it mixed with thousands of other scents resulting in your characteristic one. The one that drove him crazy.
That idea made him laugh, in fact you were the daughter of the man who could made men crazy with a snap of his fingers, so Percy believed you had done something similar to him, the only difference was that he was happy with it. He would jump blindfolded out of the grand canyon for you if you asked him to.
After a minute, he understood that your silence wasn't exactly a good thing, and he ran his fingers over the other beauty items on your wooden dresser, before turning towards you putting his weight on the dresser.
— Everything will be fine — he was convinced, but the tears threatening to fall from your eyes brought him to his knees before you, so quickly that you held back a sob seeing him on the floor raising his hands to caress your cheeks as if you were something religious that he was worshiping. Her turquoise eyes shone in the moonlight with empathy and they let you know that you had never felt that kind of religious love for which you would die until you had him.
Ugh, you were so in love with each other that it was ruthless to separate you even for just a little while.
You bent down to kiss him, and he stretched his neck to reach your lips desperately, without wanting to lose any piece of you.
—It will take much more than death to keep me from coming back to you— he whispered inches away from your lips, and you smiled because you knew he was serious about that.
With time on your shoulders, you settled on the bed, and he cuddled with you until you fell asleep while he stroked your hair and kissed you on the cheek; you had never felt so safe in someone's arms.
And it was in the morning, just after their last kiss, that your body began to ache for him and his absence. You returned to your cabin, cranky and teary-eyed, looking at the mess he had left on your dresser last night and smiled, recognizing your boyfriend's quirks, but little did you know that all Percy was doing was looking for things he could carry with him during his quest. Things that were yours and reminded him of what he had to fight for.
—Nice hair claw, Percy— Piper joked with a pink spark in her eyes, and he smiled proudly.
Leo dramatically put his hand on his chest and sighed loudly. — Better no one get in HIS – our – way because someone's waiting for him.
“Yeah, better not” he thought.
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crownofgildedlilies · 11 hours
Text
knowin' that it probably isn't true -> cool about it [4]
in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.
pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader
warnings: cursing, angst, slight panic attack?
word count: 5.3k
a/n: how can this possibly be the final part. like what? also, it's been forever since I've read the ending go heroes of Olympus so I cannot for the life of me remember how canon accurate this is.
one two three [four]
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There was one rule Jason was always willing to break.
For you, he had murmured into the side of your head, just above your ear, as he pulled you close the first night it had happened. You hadn't been able to help the roll of your watery, red-rimmed eyes. Or the skip of your heart.
Big declaration, Jase, you had fired back, pretending your voice wasn't shaking, that you hadn't made a much bigger declaration by seeking him out after curfew.
Leave it to the daughter of thieves to break and enter into the praetor's private room.
The first night it happened, you had gotten a rather stiff and formal letter from your mother, explaining why it was simply the better choice for you to stay at camp over the holidays. In front of everyone, you had kept it together.
Alone in your bunk, you broke down.
It was an easy decision, then, to go find Jason. A natural instinct, practically, was leading you through the bunkhouse on silent, swift feet despite the tears staining your face. When you had slipped into Jason's room, he had bolted awake.
You were prepared for a lecture. Instead, he just opened his arms.
So there was one rule that Jason Grace was willing to break.
Curfew.
You were careful not abuse your privilege, only searching him out when needed.
And right now, he was needed.
Your feet carried you soundlessly through the corridors, your heart hammering in your chest and bottom lip caught between your teeth, almost bloody with worry. The dream had been fast, uncontrollable, terrifying.
Not once had you ever bothered knocking on his door, and you didn't start now, twisting the knob and careful to only open it as much as you needed to slip through, because if you went any wider the hinges would squeak and Reyna could only overlook so much.
The sight of him, asleep in bed, hair tousled and face almost peaceful, was nearly enough to settle you. But then flashes of your dream came back, and you knew you needed more.
Easing the door shut, you made sure the latch clicked in place as silently as you could manage. The absolute last thing you needed was some nosy Lar floating by seeing you breaking the rules alongside Jason.
The teasing would never end.
Despite praetor's getting the privilege of having their own rooms, they remained in standard issue sized bunks. Which meant that you couldn't help but press against him as you climbed under the covers, body already half-hanging over the far edge. The movement of the mattress jostled him awake, like always, and he slowly blinked his tired eyes open.
You remained silent as he got his bearings, bottom lip caught between your teeth to keep from spilling out the gory details of your desperation to see him before he even realized what was happening.
He twisted, copying your position of laying on his side, one arm curled underneath his head to prop it up just slightly.
"Hey, you," Jason mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He stretched slightly, using the movement to reach out and brush his thumb across your cheek, as if he was checking for tears he couldn't see in the dim room. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Sleeping was the problem," You shook your head, kicking your leg forwards under the blanket to knock against his, just the barest excuse to touch him and confirm he was real and alive and laying before you.
"Nightmare?" Like he ever needed to ask. So few things got you worked up enough to risk getting caught sneaking into his room.
"Mhm," You hummed, anyway, eyes tracing the barest outline of his face visible to you in the dark of the room. The moon provide some light through the window, but you had Jason's features memorized from the time you were fourteen.
"What was it about, this time?" He asked, and you wished you could hate him for the way he sounded genuinely concerned and like he wanted to know. The pounding in your heart as he knocked his leg forwards against yours, a mimic of your own actions seconds earlier, would be easier to deal with.
"You." Without cracking, you managed to force the word out at a volume barely audible in the otherwise silent room. Your stare was focused on his chin, because you couldn't meet his eyes as you confessed, and his nose was too close to his eyes, and looking at his lips made you want to do something incredibly stupid.
His chin was neutral territory, even if you wanted to kiss there, too.
"Me?" He sounded like he didn't understand, which you gave him grace for. Yes, your nightmare was about him, but not because of anything he did, so much as what happened to him. Not the first of its kind, but after the fight with Krios, it stung a little deeper.
"You went on a quest, without me, again." Your murmured, gaze still fixed on his chin. He stayed silent, knowing you better than you knew yourself, knowing that you needed him to wait for you to find the right words. "And... and you didn't come back to me, Jase, you had promised, but you didn't—"
Your shudder took you by surprise, eyes squeezed shut tight to try and fight the stinging quickly growing there, your lungs burning with the effort to contain your sobs. You tried all your usual tricks to keep from crying. Counting silently, deep breaths through your nose, hands squeezing into fists so tight your nails cut crescent shaped marks into the heel of your palms leaking the slightest bit of blood.
It didn't work. The image of a broken, ruined Jason returned to you at the edge of camp burned into your memory. You knew it had been a dream, that he hadn't actually died, but the thought—
"This is stupid." You huffed, voice watery and tight and so incredibly pathetic you half expected Jason to strip you of your title of centurion. It was all so very un-Roman of you. "I'm too old to be crying over bad dreams."
"Hey," Jason murmured, voice gentle, and it worked in combination with his warm hands wrapping over yours to calm the tempest that was raging in your mind enough for you to open your eyes. His handsome face was twisted in concern, in understanding, and the tears welled up in your eyes all the bit faster. "I'd be a wreck, too, if I dreamt that I lost you."
Why can't he just say the words, you lamented bitterly in your mind. Why can't I say them, either?
"I hate crying." You managed to force out after a few beats of silence, broken only by your pitiful sniffles trying to keep the tears from finally falling down your cheeks and staining the pillow you shared with Jason.
"I know," His voice was soothing, gentle, and you let him manipulate your hand until he had your open palm splayed, pressed against his chest, his own covering the back of yours to keep you from pulling away. Not that you ever did anything but crawl impossibly closer to him each day.
You were Jason's and Jason was yours, but never in so many words.
"Feel that?" His quiet question startled you from your mind, the terrible sleep-created images replaying on a loop. Reyna apologizing for not protecting him, the weight of his golden coin pressing heavily into the center of your palm.
You're the only one he would have wanted to have that, Reyna had said in your dream when she handed off the magic weapon. And if something ever really did happen to him, you couldn't help but morbidly think that he really would want you to have it—
"Don't leave me here, now." Jason, real Jason, the one living and breathing and holding your hand against his chest—right over his heart, you realized with the sudden jolt. The beat was steady under the tips of your fingers, and you closed your eyes to focus on the rhythm, to try and match your shallow breaths to his deep and even ones. "There. Welcome back, solider."
"We can't be soldiers right now." You shook your head, eyes still shut but voice almost back to normal. And though you knew Jason didn't understand it, he didn't question.
You couldn't be solders. You couldn't be only little heroes destined to fight and bleed and die at the whim of others, of gods with self-imposed rules keeping them from helping their own children. Being soldiers had been what had ruined your dream, that had sent you racing through the dark to find him. Soldiers weren't lovers. Soldiers didn't hold each other.
Jason was trained to be a soldier. But maybe, with you, he could learn to be other things.
"Thank you," You murmured, voice almost silent as you peaked open your eyes. You had known Jason had moved closer to you, had heard his cheek brushing against the pillow you shared and felt the heat from his skin warm yours, but you hadn't anticipated the blow to your chest you received when you opened your eyes and found him close enough to taste, if you had been born into a braver body.
"After my little stunt on the War Games field with Damien last week? I figured I owed you." He teased, and the absurdity of Jason Grace finding it in himself to make such a casual joke after you had climbed into his bed mid-panic attack had a lopsided grin work its way onto your face.
"Shut up." You wanted to lean forward and press your lips against his skin, but you held back. You always held back, but only when it came to Jason. Most of your bunkmates had vocalized that they wished you had the capacity to control yourself more. "How many times have you kept me out of the brig?"
"Fair point," He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and reminding you that your palm was still pressed against the cotton of his sleep shirt.
As much as it pained you, you slipped your hand out of his, but something took control of you and changed direction. Originally, you had planned on tucking your fist underneath your own chin, cocooning yourself in your own arms and trying to justify staying a little bit longer.
What ended up happening was your hand falling to rest on Jason's cheek, thumb brushing over the pearly white line of his scar. The tips of your fingers tingled, might have even shook, as they touched his lips.
All the humor was sucked from the room with your gentle declaration of such intimacy. Sure, you and Jason had long since passed through each other's barriers of personal space. Neither one of you exactly had nurturing childhoods and found relentless comfort in the other.
Touch starved, someone had once explained it as. Two people making up for lost time and a need to feel loved and held. Jason was the only one you let into your space, and as far as you knew you were the only one Jason wrapped himself around. The thought of him locking pinkies with someone besides you made you queasy and tossed you back into the moment, your palm on his cheek and his eyes on yours.
It was almost too much. You hoped he couldn't hear your heart hammering in your chest, feeling as if it was about to burst with how much you loved him.
You loved everything about him. From his smiles to his dedication and his innocent charm. To the way he fought like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, because it did, and how he let you break the rules in his bed because he knew you better than you could ever hope to know yourself, sometimes.
"I bet it was a wolf bite." You murmured into the quiet, words tumbling past your lips before you could even think of what you were saying.
"Hm?" He must not have expected your words, because he hummed questioningly, sounding half-distracted but your touch lingering on his skin. The idea of distracting Jason Grace made you smile. It felt like an achievement.
"Your scar," You clarified, still tracing it with the pad of your thumb. his skin was warm and soft and it helped ease your remaining nerves to hold him so gently after the gruesome horror show of your nightmare. "I bet it was a wolf bite."
Jason grinned, then. Wide and bright and if you hadn't seen him call down lightning personally, you would have thought Phoebus Apollo was his father from how much blinding sunshine radiated from him, even in the middle of the night, half-asleep.
"If Lupa bit me, I don't think the scar would be so small." He teased, knocking his forehead into yours gently. You snorted, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him, trying to remain casual as his nose brushed against yours.
"Still, it's a good story." You hummed, shrugged slightly. Jason huffed a laugh, and you felt his breath on your skin, on your lips.
"Yeah, it's a good story." He agreed quietly, his own hand reaching up to hold your face, mimicking your position with a gentleness that made you question if you should ruin the only gentle thing to ever embrace you by slotting your mouth over his, over every inch of his face.
Instead, you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, holding him as close as you could without being greedy.
You knew you'd have to leave soon, or else risk getting caught, and you couldn't do that to Jason.
But you let yourself have a few minutes. You never knew how many you'd ever have with him.
It was peaceful, if only for a moment.
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It had only been war, for hours.
Your voice was shredded raw from shouting orders, rallying troops, keeping Romans from turning on Greeks like Octavian had wanted.
It was the final battle, you knew. The air tasted of it, of that heavy weight that came with saving the world. You had felt it when you had gone into battle against Krios to keep the Titans from rising, and you were sick with it, now.
This time, you didn't have Jason by your side, covering your weaknesses while you watched his. You didn't even have Reyna, anymore.
I need you to stay here, Reyna had ordered you when you had argued your case for joining her on her quest to the Ancient Lands after Jason and the others. Your desperation to accompany her went beyond a bone-deep ache to see Jason again; you were going absolutely crazy sitting around at the Roman encampments surrounding the Greek demigod camp, waiting for a battle you were certain shouldn't be taking place.
If I stay here, I'm going to kill Octavian. Or he'll get someone to kill me, you countered, and two weeks earlier you could have played it off as a joke. But Octavian had become drunk on power, had appointed himself to a rank higher than praetor, and was absolutely gunning for a reason to get rid of you, one way or another.
Don't let him, Reyna had said, as if it was ever that simple. I need someone here that I can trust. Jason needs you here, too.
Your frown had deepened, no matter how impossible it had seemed.
That was a low blow, you mumbled, pissed off and exhausted, only getting more pissed off and exhausted by your own shitty attitude.
Reyna had grimaced, but did you the favor of not pointing out that it had worked. You had stayed behind, had remained with your soldiers and dodged Octavian as much as you could, knowing how very weak the leash you held your anger on was. He was looking for any excuse to put you on trial. You couldn't give him one.
But that didn't mean you didn't do everything in your power to undermine Octavian's control.
The fighting that soon followed was inevitable.
You had known from the start that it was either going to be against the Greeks or the monsters, depending on how successful Jason and his new group of friends were. If they got back in time to unify the camps like Annabeth had promised Reyna they would, then the monsters would be feasible to take on.
But Octavian started the war early. Started against the Greeks, then was forced to split forces when the monsters began their assault, too.
The groundwork you had laid against Octavian was almost unnecessary as he doomed the Romans to fight an exhausting and expensive battle they could never win. It had been almost too easy for you to take control, to knock Octavian out with a single punch and order Roman troops to fight alongside the Greeks, to use them as another weapon against the monsters.
Defend their camp as if it is our own!, you had shouted through the roar of battle, perched on the highest point you could find—an upturned chariot. The fighting had paused at your words, Greeks and Romans alike trying to see which way the attacking army would sway.
One girl on the Greek side of the fight gave orders to her soldiers not to attack your Romans, just as the daughter of Ares had promised on the few nights you had snuck into her camp to discuss that very moment.
Clarisse La Rue had been all too willing to talk war with you, double agent against Octavian, you were.
Reyna and Nico arriving with the Athena Parthenos had only sealed the deal, but even with Greek and Roman forces combined the never-ending monster army was a force to be reckoned with. Gaea herself was even pulling you in, feet sucked into the earth to tire you out faster with each step.
By the time the flying trireme arrived, your exhaustion was bone deep and felt like the only substantial thing in your life.
It was a blur, from then on. Fighting still raged. Screams still tore through the air. Battle continued and stole and ached.
Then came the explosion.
One minute you were fighting for your life, prepared to enter into the next one, and then suddenly the world had stilled around you. Whatever monsters weren't falling under the swords and arrows of demigod heroes had turned and ran, and it was almost jarring how silent the battlefield got.
Or maybe you were just too tired to process any sound. You thought you could see Reyna's mouth moving, a few dozen feet in front of you, but all you heard was a low buzzing, the thrumming of your heart, as you searched the carnage.
You weren't sure if the Romans stopped to gawk at you because you were stumbling through the mess or because you were, against all odds, still standing. You had been on the front lines from the start, had led wave after wave of assault.
By all accounts, you should have been lost to the fight. But you never gave up all that easily.
You knew there still were a million and six things that remained to do before darkness fell. First and most important to you was organizing your legion, taking count of who had survived the battle. Mourning walked hand in hand with victory, and you were well acquainted with the pair.
Except, you only made it ten steps before you saw him.
Jason Grace had completely forgotten you. Despite his promises, his sweet words and even sweeter touches, he had forgotten you and all that you meant to him. He didn't know how he used to pinch your arm to keep you awake in your more boring classes. He didn't know that he used to swap plates with you at least once a week because you regretted what the Mess Hall sprites had brought you.
He didn't know how he brushed his hands through your hair when you got worked up, and he didn't remember what the touch of your skin on his felt like.
But he was heading straight towards you, as if the destruction around him could wait and all that mattered was you.
It was enough to root you to your spot. With shaking, brutalized fingers you took off your helmet. You meant to hold it under your arm against your hip, but suddenly Jason was within five feet of you with the most determined stare, and you barely registered it dropping to the ground.
You had counted the days since you had last seen him in Charleston. It had been too long and not long enough, because no matter how much you loved Jason with every inch of your being, it also hurt too great to have him in front of you and know he didn't remember how gently he had once used his thumbs to smooth the worry lines from between your knitted brows.
"Soldier—" You started, desperate to take control of the conversation, but he was speaking over you before you even finished the second syllable.
"It's not a wolf bite." His words were firm, almost pleading. But they were also so unexpected, so out of place, you jolted back half a step. He quickly made up for the space you tried putting between you both, halting only a few scant inches from the exhausted lines of your body.
"What?" You managed to gape, chin tilted to look up at him, face twisted in grief and confusion and hope so dangerous you contemplated the blow to your reputation if you turned and ran.
"The scar. Not a wolf bite." He clarified, and it took nearly everything in you to tear your stare from his to drag down his face and find the beloved mark on the corner of his lips, right where it had been since the moment you had met him. You had felt that bit of raised skin underneath the pad of your thumb more times than what could have been considered as just friendly, had made up stories for its existence just to distract yourself. "When I was two, I tried to eat a stapler."
"Jason," The sound that left your lips could almost have been mistaken for a laugh, if someone only plugged their ears and closed their eyes. It was a haunted, aching, desperate sound, mixed with a short exhale that had Jason leaning even closer to you, somehow.
"I just thought you'd want to know." He murmured, and you weren't sure if the warmth burning your skin was from the exertion of battle, the rays of sun beating against your cheek, or the intensity of Jason's stare on you.
Familiar. He looked... familiar. Maybe a little Greek, but he was still Roman. Still an unwavering force, one that had defeated a Titan and still had enough power to tear down his seat of power in search for your battered body, almost lost to the rubble.
He looked like he knew you.
"You… you remember?" Fingers curled into fists at your side, almost buzzing with emotions you could barely even begin to decipher. Everything was a knot inside of you; thoughts, feelings, strength. You'd given everything on the battlefield, but you had been running on fumes from the moment Jason had been stolen from you. It was nothing short of a miracle that you were still standing.
"I do, now." His nod sent a shuddering gasp through you, but still you couldn't get yourself to lift a hand out and reach him. You had already had this dream—this nightmare—so many times. What happened next would likely be his dismissing you. Or worse—you would wake up.
But Jason moved first, one hand you knew like your own raising to wipe a spot of grime off you cheek before cradling your head gently. It was all the permission you needed before your own hands notched under the sides of his armor, a familiar movement always used to tug him closer to you. Metal clanged together as his chest plate hit against yours, and though you suddenly loathed the equipment that had saved your life more times than you felt you deserved, you couldn't let go of Jason long enough to free yourself from it. That part would have to wait.
"Got hit on the head a few times, talked to a couple of gods. It all helped the pieces fall back together." He explained, and you pressed your knuckles into his sides as a silent reprimand for making fun of himself getting hurt. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision of Jason, and you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. A reprimand for yourself, too. "I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't your fault, Jase." You would have shaken your head, but you didn't want to move out of his hold for a second, and instead pressed your cheek tighter against his palm still holding the side of your jaw.
He looked ready to argue, but you flashed him a glare so fierce he thought better of it. You had been living in anger and fear for months. Having Jason back already helped, but it would take more than a few minutes for you to right yourself.
And you still stood on the battlefield.
"I remember that last argument we had." He knocked you back to reality in the gentle way only he ever knew how to do with you. Out of shame, you ducked your gaze to the ground, but he didn't let you hide. With the hand that wasn't on your jaw, thumb brushing reassuring strokes over your cheek, he held your nearly quivering chin between his index and his thumb. The way he tilted your head up to meet his stare was tender, but that had never been a question when it came to him. "Where I said there was nothing for us to do but be soldiers."
"Yeah," You were pretty sure you were speaking, but you couldn't focus on anything over the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears or the beautiful burn of his skin against yours.
"I was wrong." He admitted, but you knew what those words meant just the same as he knew that you would understand. "I remembered fragments of you. The sound of your laugh. How your hair shone in the summer sun."
"Sounds like you might be in love, or something." You tried for teasing but sounded like you had just been hit by a bus. Jason had only been back for a few scarce minutes and already was bulldozing you with his sweet words. If he hadn't just disappeared on you for upwards of seven months and came back to save the world, you would have threatened to kick his ass for disorientating you so much so quickly.
"Oh, I am." He grinned a little nervously, a little lopsided, and you couldn't wait any longer.
You moved first, hands darting from the sides of his armor to the sides of his face, palms flat against his skin as you tugged his head down you meet you while you pushed yourself up on your tip-toes to meet him halfway.
Kissing Jason was as inevitable as it was all-consuming. You had played dumb with Dakota whenever he brought it up, but deep down you had always belonged to Jason Grace, and he to you, from the moment he broke the rules to sit with you in that small, restricted stretch of grass when you were ten years old.
Your fingers knotted into the hair on the back of his head, grown out just enough during his time with the Greeks. You thought it suited him, and it was soft under your touch, and you mentally made a note to plead with him later to leave it alone. From the way he was kissing you like he would starve if he didn't, you had a feeling he'd agree easily.
He was warm and sweet and tasted like mint. He was everything you had imagined, everything you had never once dared to hope for. Strong hands and gentle touches, unyielding intelligence and unwavering kindness.
He was everything. Your everything.
Despite the weight of Jason's mouth on yours, you still were dimly aware of where you stood. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, and no matter how close you pressed against Jason, you couldn't hide from the fact that you were a centurion and your legion needed you.
You had been left by almost everyone in your life, but never had letting someone go been as painful as it was to step back from Jason long enough to catch your breath and clear the fog from your mind that was a direct reaction to his touch.
"I've got to—" You shuddered, voice catching, but Jason nodded, knowing what you meant. Knowing you, knowing your mind, always. You almost shivered again at the reminder that he remembered. He knew what you were going to say, but you forced yourself to finish your thought so you could convince yourself it was real. "I've got to find my legion. Count survivors. Take stock of injuries. We've been—we've been fighting for hours."
You didn't want to leave him. You never had wanted to before, but after he had been stolen from you for so long? Now that he had confessed his love and kissed you like his life depended on it?
Now you were worried that the next time he left your side, he'd disappear again, no matter how unwillingly he went.
"Okay," Jason smoothed his thumbs across your cheeks, face ducked low towards yours as your hands fell to wrap loosely around his wrists, desperate to hold him in anyway you could. "Okay. We can do that."
"We?" You questioned, then immediately felt stupid for doing so. Of course, he meant we. It had always been the two of you against the world, and he had just gotten his memories of you back. There was no way he would let you out of his sight so soon.
"You told me the day we met that there was no getting rid of you." Jason reminded you, as if you could ever forget meeting him, as if the gods themselves had been able to keep him from remembering you. "I'm holding you to that promise."
Words failed you, but the way you surged forward to press your mouth to his in a quick, urgent kiss that you had dreamed about sharing with him for years, didn't.
"Just for the record, I love you too." You offered an exhausted imitation of a smile as you pulled away, finally dropping your touch from him. Because maybe you had Jason back, but you still weren't sure how many of your soldiers had been lost. Mourning and victory, always a solemn pair.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but someone called out your name, and the edge of desperation and worry in their voice cut through you like a knife. And Jason remembered you, knew you, and saw everything written on your face.
"We'll figure out this mess together." He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip before nudging your shoulder in the direction the voice had come from. "Lead the way, Centurion."
Your stomach was still in knots, so you pressed your lips into a firm line. But Jason was a warm strength at your back, and he kept his promise of together, and followed you dutifully.
War took and took, but sometimes it gave.
Jason, your Jason, was back. And maybe there were still a million questions to answer, boundaries to fix and homes to rebuild, but you knew Jason would be by your side through it all.
An unwavering force behind your relentless dedication.
War took and took, but things would be okay.
Things would be okay.
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a/n: im allergic to sad endings (jk I just can't write them they always feel unfinished when I try) also this took me forever bc I was so incredibly worried that the finale would flop but I kinda love this so im just gonna full send
tag, you're it! @aezuria @tayswiftlovebot @bonnie-tz @folklorefantasies14 @sunshine-of-ur-life @irwinchester @bellamysnatblida @saph-nic @auroraofthesun1 @helloimamistake @maybxlle @p-rspective @lauptimist @dontstopxx @apollosfavkiddo @ebony-reine-vibes @poppysrin @valromanoff @jesuschrist2006 @pariahsparadise @killaari @marshmummy @sofiacblair
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Some thoughts I have on cute story line/au
Wally and dick are dating took them forever to actually admit they got feeling for each other even if everyone else alrighty knew.
Wally is the flash berry is still alive and the flash. They kind of both are at the same time. No it's not confusing unless your arent from key stone or central city. If your from bludhaven you are to scared to ask due to seeing Nightwing and flash kissing. If your from anywhere else then you are probably confused.
Bruce gets lost in the time line
Dick unfortunately has to take up the mantle of Batman
Wally doesn't like that but support his boyfriend in any and everyway he can.
Dick moved back into the manner makes Damian Robin and works closely with him. Wally just about spends every night there even if he isn't living there technically. Since his name is on their old apartment and they don't fully want to lose it yet.
Dick and Damian become close. And thus Wally and Damian become close.
Damian starts seeing them as his parents. Calling them dad in different languages they don't know
Dick has an idea of what's Damian is doing. He knows his Damian even if they don't say it. Dick and wally refers to Damian as their kid.
Wally and Dick go to all meet the parents and Damian art shows and just every and anything they can. Damian will not say it but he is glad to have them there. He gets so upset if anything wrong happens cause he doesn't want them to think he not good enough anymore.
Wally and Dick get engaged Damian knew it was happening. He when with Dick to help pick out the rings. Well he when with Dick to help look at rings and get an idea of style. then waited as Wayne enterprises made something that would work for a speedster. He also inspected the ring very closely to make sure the people who made it didn't mess up.
Bruce comes back
Damian thinks he has to go back with Bruce and Wally and Dick won't want him anymore. Bruce of course thinks he is entitled to Damian. Wally and Dick are heart broken but think its best if Damian stays with Bruce.
Everyone but Bruce cry
Bruce is a bad parent and doesn't see Damian as anything but the killing machine he was trian to be and how he was right when he was dropping off at Bruce door step a few years ago.
Damian is the ring bearer for the wedding of course and hoes with them on wedding planning.
Alfred hates how Bruce is not showing love and how excited Damian is when Dick and wally come over. And how sad he gets as soon as they leave.
Alfred prints out adoption paperwork for what feels like the millionth time and instead of giving to Bruce puts in Dick pile of papers.
Wally and Dick almost cry when they find it and fill out what is their part. They take Damian out for ice cream. And ask Damian if he wants to be with them. Damian of course says yes and how their his dads and please don't leave him again.
They go back and start packing up stuff and go to the bat cave to get Bruce to sign the papers.
Bruce says no he will not and that they baby Damian and he needs to be watched carefully. Dick and Wally are going to get killed if they trust Damian so easily. And he will not let them take him.
Dick and wally are so upset dick gets mad. And yells at Bruce about how he been gone and Damian been hurt so much by him. Wally ends up being like Bruce you have 3 days otherwise we are taking this to court and taking our child back the hard way.
Damian doesnt understand why he can't go with them now. Wally unfortunately understands that it looks worse if they kidnap Damian by taking him now. They promised it only going to be a little bit and they get him very soon.
Damian spends the next three days packing up everything when he not busy. Alfred brings him boxes. Bruce tried to unpack things saying he not going anywhere. Alfred starts moving the boxes to a safe space that Bruce can't get to. But isn't Dick and Wally's place.
Bruce doesn't sign the papers
They go to court Dick and Wally get a lawyer for themselves and one for Damian. Bruce says it stupid for Damian to have his own one. And it's actually Dick and wally having two.
The judge ends up picking Damian a new lawyer and whoever wins have to pay for Damian's.
A lot of Damian's teachers are called in. Damian art teacher is one of the ones who help a lot. She brings up a project about their family tree and how Bruce and Talia are on there. But also Wally and Dick are on it. And Damian has put himself under them but arrows to Bruce and Talia with blood parents.
Talia ends up showing up. Which no one really knows how she knew what was happening. She says wants her son with Bruce that's why she drop him off at his place. (To train with the Batman)
I need to go to bed about 40 minute ago I'll come back and finish my thoughts
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sleepyelliee · 2 days
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taking a bath with jack marston.
౨ৎ SUMMARY... your favorite gunslinger seems to have trouble keeping himself together during the rough patch he is currently experiencing, so you decide to step in and tend to his needs.
౨ৎ RATING...fluff ! but, mentions of depression, implied grief, dirt, bacteria, nude body, alcoholism, scars, cuts, and bruises, implied financial situation, loneliness, implied to be shorter than him, GN READER. no 'y/n', just 'you.' Loosely proofread. established relationship.
౨ৎ CREDITS... thank you sooo much, @slversprngs for allowing me to use your jack drawings <3. you should definitely check them out because they make amazing art.
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You were familiar with the young man and his family who lived couple blocks down from your ranch and your father would trade different products each month with the Marston's. This soon became a way to know the teenage boy as his mother, Abigail started to invite your family to dinner every other weekend, an attempt to make her loner son have some friends since all he did was read books and help out his father whenever they did ranch work.
Abigail thought you were a good influence, you liked reading books and engaged in conversations whenever her or her beloved husband would ask about your hobbies or they observed how you would treat their son. The Marston's loved having your family around and soon enough you became a family friend, and a best friend to Jack.
All those memories and dinners with the Marston family soon came an end three years ago, when Jack's father, John passed away and soon after that his mother passed as well.
It changed the young man - crushed him to pieces that it altered his personality. The old sarcastic boy you knew was far from that now, he was quiet and only kept to himself with that stoic mask he displays to everyone.
It seems you were an expectation because he wasn't entirely closed off, he still spoke to you occasionally about the things he's doing in his life - aiming to kill Edgar Ross, a man who murdered his father apparently.
You didn't know what to say to that, two wrongs don't make a right. But, you couldn't stop the young man as he let his anger out about the whole situation as he spoke about it whenever he would lean against the railings of his porch and you would quietly listen to his rambling.
...
Opening the crunched up newspaper that was left in your mailbox messily caught you off guard. The retired federal agent, Edgar Ross was reported as dead - something you didn't want to take literally due to how sweet the young man used to be in the past, nor wanted to believe his words of murder true. You felt terrible because you knew that the true fate of the man before it took place and deep down you knew you could've reported it to the law.
That's what you repeated to yourself numerous times - never to ever interact with an outlaw, a gunslinger, a murderer, someone like him, but you found yourself stripping naked to wash the young man as you slowly got into the bathtub.
"You don't have to do this," The gunslinger repeated as he took a heavy inhale, trying to respect you in the best way possible without making this awkward, "You know you can leave, right?" He continued but any conviction seemed to land on deaf ears.
"Mhm, I know." You muttered, reaching over to grab the shampoo and rubbing it on your hands before massage it into his scalp. The built up grease from days or even weeks was noticable but you decided not to speak about it.
Jack feels guilty - not for the killing a man but how he's making you, a childhood friend of his clean him up like he's a baby. The alcohol in his system doesn't make the anxiousness fade away as he is afraid you'll judge him - you'll will leave him.
He doesn't know how long it's been that he genuinely felt so clean but he won't ever even admit a side of vulnerability despite the fact he allowed you to take care of him.
After shampooing his hair, you gently wash off the shampoo and rubbed conditioner on your hand before going in and applying it to the outlaw's dark hair, causing him to hum. "What else are you goin' to do?" He questions as his gaze slowly meets yours, hoping you won't be grossed out.
"Do you want me to wash your shoulders? You...uh, can do the rest.." You mutter as your cheeks grew into a rosy red. Damn. He swears that look you give him anytime you get embarrassed will be the death of him.
Jack doesn't comment on it though, he silently reaches down and takes hold of your waist and pulls you closer. "Don't stress it," The gunslinger mutters, slowly dipping his face in the curve of your neck. "Darlin'..? Love you."
Jack Marston was not a vulnerable man, but in this moment, he felt safe and secure in your arms.
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Thank you soo much for reading ! reblogs and likes are very much appreciated... please do not repost my work on any other platform. Masterlist
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random-fandom1984 · 2 days
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Hi!! 😆
May I request TFP Yandere Soundwave x human reader?
Thank for reading this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง✨
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Sorry if it doesn't have that much yandere as you were hoping for.
Okay, so, the only way I can see that you could've gotten his attention is either you're related to one of the three human charges – family or friend. Because of that, you don't know about the Autobots and Decepticons.
Soundwave was given the mission to find out more about the human pets, through humans that are close to them. Out of all of their family and friends, he chose you.
He only went through some of your info, and you're a friend of Miko's host parents that lives in a state up north, in Gravity Falls, Oregon (Yes, I'm making a little crossover with GF, but TFP came out 2 years before Gravity Falls existed, so Weirdmageddon hasn't happened yet, nor have the Pine Twins visited yet.)
You've met Miko a few times when you've came to visit, and it's best to say you don't like how loud, irresponsible, foolish, and doesn't understand people's boundaries. You were a rather quiet introverted person, and she was an overbearing extrovert, so you two didn't mix well.
When it was Christmas last year, they were at your family gathering, and she almost got your cousins hurt with firecrackers, who were mainly toddlers and young children. She even said, quote-unquote, that "They needed to live a little and not have helicopter parents deciding everything for them." The thing was that your aunts and uncles weren't helicopter parents, they were normal, calm, and understanding parents!
Miko was one of the main reasons why you lost faith in humanity, and you despised her with a burning passion. You even told this to her in her face, but she would say that you're just grumpy and should take a nap. As if you were a little child that didn't know better!
You work as an online artist that takes request for people who can't draw certain things like, animals, details, DND characters, Oc's etc.
As time went on, he was starting to get obsessed with learning more about you, and he knows more about you than anyone else you know in your life. Your favorite animal are birds, your favorite color is d/s/f/c (Dark Shade of Favorite Color), you hate people, don't like talking, have a pet European Starling named Jermey, after the crow in the Secret of Nimh because of his love for shiny and sparkly things, who is also the model for your watermarks on your designs, you like dying your hair, and so much more.
You were having a normal day, doing a live stream as you were taking requests from your viewers, when this one person in particular to do a city made out of metal, the people are robots that can transform, and even gave you an image that they "made" that was called Kaon. Interested, you took up this challenge.
It was safe to say that Soundwave wasn't disappointed with the end results of it; It looked magnificent. The image of his home was nostalgic of the good old days of Cybertron, when it wasn't just him and Laserbeak, when all of his children minicons were still alive.
The two of you kept in contact and became friends on the internet. You would tell each other about how your days went; you were told that he works as one of the higher ups in a company, has to deal with an annoying, loud, arrogant assistant of his boss – reminds you of a certain someone –, has a pet bird, is introverted, doesn't talk, doesn't like humanity- you're already hooked.
You turned a blind eye to things, like how he somehow knows where you live, find out about private accounts on social media, knows that you're talking to someone even when there's barely any people around, kind of seeming jealous/overprotective over text. The hardest one to do is when someone insults or steals your art, only to end up severely or lightly wounded somewhere between the next day to the end of the week, saying that a robot version of Slenderman or a metal bird that has an origami themed shape, etc.
There were a few things that caught your attention. How he uses the wrong terminology for things such as units time, parts of the body, even saying organics, fleshies, humans instead of people or others by their names. You were suspicious but brushed it off every time it happens.
At the beginning of Soundwave's his sire growing obsession, Laserbeak didn't even understand what was so great about you. But it changed when he was shot down by Autobots and landed out in the woods, you found him, and repaired him. During his stay, he made friends with Jeremy, and during repairs, you were gentle as you could be when fixing him up, your touched were light, you asked if what you were doing was alright, and he honestly thought of those human films where the mother would help their child when they get an injury. In this situation, he was your the child, and you were his the mother; he understood now.
Knowing Laserbeak's existence was the reason why it was a little hard to turn a blind eye to those that were injured.
When Laserbeak returned, he gave the information to Soundwave, and that's when Soundwave knew that you were the one to complete the family.
When the both of you actually met face-to-face is when you texted him that an ex of yours came back is so persistent on getting back together and won't leave you alone. When it was night, your ex cornered you, and was ranting on and on about how you should be grateful that he's giving you a second chance, even though you were the one to break up with him, only to end up dead on the pavement. You looked up to see Soundwave himself.
The first thought that came to mind didn't revolve around fear. No! It was 'Oh, god, he looks hot-'
So, you were taken aboard the Nemesis, you became a part of the Con Crew. 1.) Because you're close, in a way, to one of the Autobot's human pets; 2.) You hated humans just as much as they did; 3.) It's Soundwave. Megatron trusts him with any decision of his. A reason Soundwave gave, in public? A human to spy on the Autobots- Shut the fuck up random Vehicon, this is a human spy, not Makeshift. This isn't like Starscream's plan.
This happened only a day after Optimus Prime became Orion Pax. Soundwave had a feeling that something might happen, so he had you wear something that will cover up everything, mainly your head/face. He knows the archivist is smart, and if he were to revert back to Optimus, then he would recognize who you are.
Often times, some Vehicons would make comments about a human joining the ranks, or try to get rid of you, and they were met with an electric end.
It was only about a week later, after Orion became Optimus again, when they decided how they were going to get you in their base, and with the help of the newly arrived Dreadwing, they can do just that.
Part 2 coming soon...
So, basically this was a yandere x willing reader. I just hope you're satisfied.
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asteralien · 1 month
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not to be like “i miss college” even though i do but mostly i think i miss being smart. before depression and life events had chewed up and partially swallowed my brain. just getting to problem solve and think, being Very Into something as the norm. i know being an english major is basically the easiest thing you can be at the undergrad level but i do feel like that was the one and only time in my life where my natural state was actually a pro instead of a con. i graduated with the highest honors and absolutely no one cared but i cared
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hella1975 · 11 months
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SNORK FUCKING MIMIMI
#my day started at 11AM. ELEVEN. AM. let that sink in. and has just now ended at 3am. (three in the morning. am. 3am. three am.)#i am SLEEPY i cant feel MY LEGS#like we all got ready at 11am. we went to spoons breakfast. we pre'd until like 2/3#AND THEN WE WENT TO THE HORSE RACES! BC THERE WAS A STUDENT DAY THING! IT WAS SO FUN! MUCH BETTER THAN LAST TIME!#and we were there until like? 9? i think?#and then we come home to get our shit together. had a chinese. drank some more. and then we went to the club#and we stayed until close bc when i TELL YOU the dj did not play a single skip song#it was just banger after banger i think ive lost my voice#but oh my god my POOR LITTLE LEGS#I WAS IN HEELS THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS AT THE RACES#6/7 HOURS IN HEELS JUST TO TAKE THEM OFF TO GO CLUBBING??? OW#IM GOD'S STRONGEST SOLDIER TBFH#ALL THAT WAITRESSING DID ME GOOD APPARENTLY MY FEET ARE STRONGER THAN SISYPHUS ON THEIR OWN#FUCK THAT ROCK BOY#ow. ow ow ow. but it was such a good day so idc. i met a guyyyyy <3#i also fucking body checked this one girl and i feel a bit bad bc she was so clearly having her teen coming of age moment in the club#like white girl dancing hands over her head twirling etc. unfortunately for her AND ME that involved bumping into me repeatedly#and like? she kept turning to us to try make us dance with her but me and my mates were having a lot of fun in our little trio so we didn't#which yeah maybe that was mean but tbh if someone did that to me id take no for an answer the first time instead of repeatedly doing it#like she was acting like she was empowering us and freeing us from the shackles of insecurity when rlly we were just like girl no#and she WOULD NOT GET THE FUCK OFF ME like zero spacial awareness to her#the irony of clubs is like yeah obvs ur surrounded by people but it's also looked down upon if ur seriously in someone's space#so i just wasn't having it and in the end i just fully fucking SHOVED her off lmfaoooo. sorry girlie <3#like i felt embarassed for her bc of it like she was so in her own little world and i absolutely ruined it but idc#be aware of other people and their comfort bitch!#anyway yeah it was very fun all in all <3#hella goes to uni
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osaemu · 5 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.
contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).
author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!
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ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.
at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.
last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 
but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.
you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 
a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”
you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”
after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”
“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.
but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.
it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.
“i don’t think this is working.”
six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.
“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”
“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—
“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?
satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.
“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 
satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”
your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”
“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”
you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”
“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”
his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”
your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."
you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"
satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.
he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."
you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"
satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".
and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.
satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 
and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.
the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.
a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.
as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.
toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?
toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig
you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.
satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.
the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.
so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.
“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 
the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.
“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”
nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.
suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 
toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy
yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(
inumaki: chat is this real??
satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.
“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.
satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—
“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”
and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.
a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.
suguru: r u ok?
you: yeah ig
suguru: do u want anything?
satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.
but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 
somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.
the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.
when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”
you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.
satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”
you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.
the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.
after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.
you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.
“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 
“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”
“no, really, it’s alright.”
“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”
“let’s just go.”
the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 
the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 
after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 
satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.
you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”
satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 
“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?
well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”
what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.
“i— uh, i mean—”
“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”
he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 
ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”
your heart breaks again.
“then why did you—”
“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”
you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.
“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”
“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”
“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”
satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”
“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”
“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”
“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”
“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”
“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 
“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 
“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”
he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”
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junityy · 1 month
Text
🕸 — stay.
pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!
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You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.
The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.
Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.
“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.
“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.
“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.
“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.
“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.
Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”
“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.
“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.
But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.
“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.
You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.
“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.
Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.
“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.
While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.
And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.
Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.
Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.
Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.
“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.
Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.
Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.
“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.
“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.
What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.
Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.
“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.
Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.
“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.
Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.
It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.
“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.
“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.
But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.
“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).
“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.
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taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127
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ohmygraves · 3 months
Text
ghost, but as your fake boyfriend.
you were panicking.
your mother had called earlier, asking if you could come home for a few days. apparently, your brother had returned from overseas, and she called to let you know that every single member of your family would be there. a small family reunion, if you will. of course, she expected you to show up too, perhaps bring that boyfriend of yours you always told them about.
which was a problem because one, you don't have a boyfriend, and two, you have lied to your family for years and now it's come to bite you in the ass.
you didn't even know why you did it in the first place. perhaps the constant pestering and questions about "when will you get married?" is starting to bother you, especially when it came from so many of your relatives, wondering if you'd settle down already instead of being out there in danger all the time. perhaps you just want them to leave you alone and stop worrying about your wellbeing. after all, you're an adult, and it's just annoying to hear the same thing over and over again every single time when you went home for christmas.
so, you created this narrative of a "boyfriend", who you'd talk about when your parents called. a boyfriend who is tall, handsome, and loves you for who you are. a boyfriend who you'd live with and maybe plan on marrying too in the future. a boyfriend that is so much of a textbook nice guy that your family would approve of even if it sounds too good to be true.
you're not sure who to ask. soap would be your best bet, but he would be away on a mission at that date. which was unfortunate, he seemed really excited to play fake boyfriend with you. gaz just ran out of leave for this month, so he's out too. price is too old, your family would question it.
that leaves just one person...
"lt, can you do me a favor? please, just this once."
ghost turned towards you, leaning back and letting you explain. you told him that you need him to be your fake boyfriend for a family event.
unsurprisingly, he was very quick to stand up and leave you alone, not wanting to deal with your bullshit. still, you catch up to him, trying to convince him with whatever it is you could offer.
after a few rounds of convincing, tailing him for three days and nights, constantly pestering him, and some offers of the finest whiskey and whatever he wanted, ghost finally relented. it didn't take long for the two of you to fly back to your hometown two days before the family reunion, the two of you taking a week of leave from the base with very little trouble. you assumed that ghost had something to do with it.
before you arrived, you had to give him a rundown on what to expect, what questions will be asked and how to answer them for it to make sense in the web of lies you've created. he was definitely not thrilled, telling you that he got this... whatever "this" was supposed to be. you were nervous, hoping that things will actually go well.
surprisingly, ghost did keep true to his words. walking into your childhood home, he held your waist, keeping you close to him, even would act nicer to your nosy relatives (which, of course, was not surprising when you feel his grip got tighter around you).
dinner was quite cozy, everyone seemed to enjoy his presence and kept asking you if you two will end up married. ghost said something vague that made you blush, and while it embarrassed you, it got everyone to stop talking about it.
when the crowd dissolved, you took ghost to go see your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind him as you thanked him for doing you a good favor, and that you won't forget all about this. you didn't even realize that he stepped closer to you, too absorbed in gushing how successful the night has been, pulling you close and planting a kiss on your lips. it shut you up.
"... did you just kissed me?"
"mmhm. i reckon i deserve at least that, huh love?"
"i suppose you do..."
he kissed you once more. well, at least you won't have to lie about your fake boyfriend anymore.
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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Please Accept My Apology
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.
You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)
You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.
“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”
“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”
You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.
Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.
For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.
“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”
“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.
“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”
You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.
He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.
You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.
He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.
He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.
Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.
“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.
You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.
You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.
You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.
“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.
“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”
He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.
“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”
“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.
“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”
He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.
“No, he doesn't, Agent.”
A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.
“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.
No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.
Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.
“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”
“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”
“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”
You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.
“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”
You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.
It was time to end this conversation.
“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”
He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.
“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”
He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.
Xxx
It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.
With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.
You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.
You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.
“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.
“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.
“I came to talk. May I come inside?”
“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.
You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.
Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.
“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.
You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.
Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”
“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.
“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”
Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.
“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”
“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”
His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.
“I was doing my job.”
“You almost got my brother killed.”
“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.
This was how close you needed him.
“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.
He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.
“You're enjoying this.”
“I'm not.”
“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”
His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.
It was more comfortable keeping him close.
“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”
“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.
“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”
“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”
“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.
“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”
“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”
“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”
“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”
“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.
You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.
“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”
“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.
“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”
You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.
Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.
He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.
“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”
“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.
“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.
You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.
“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”
His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.
His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.
You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.
“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.
As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.
His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.
His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.
“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.
“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”
His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.
“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.
“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.
“What?” You spat out.
“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”
His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.
“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”
“What about please?”
“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.
“No, shit, wait.-”
You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.
“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.
“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.
“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.
You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.
“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”
He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.
You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.
“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”
Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.
The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.
“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”
You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.
His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.
You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.
“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.
“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”
“Jackass.”
“Whore.”
You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.
“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”
You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.
“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”
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mammonsrockstargf · 16 days
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"Fuck, the things I wouldn't do for a cheeseburger right now,"
Beelzebub's attention is immediately on you, eyes twinkling red. "We can go to Hell's Burger after this then," he says, eager to oblige to any and all requests you make. The fact that it involves food only entices him further. You sigh and shake your head, much to his confusion.
"No, Beel, like a real burger," you say, resting your head in your hands, elbows on your desk. You're sitting at the back of the class, so your teacher doesn't notice that neither of you is particularly focused. Beelzebub's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Hell's Burger's burgers aren't real?" he mumbles and you smile apologetically at him, shaking your head.
"Sorry, Beel, I just-" You stop for a second, reminiscing about your favourite burger restaurant. Beel waits patiently for you to sort out your thoughts, although the talk of burgers has increased the never-ending rumble of his stomach.
"I just crave a human-world burger, that doesn't have the word death or poison in the name or has 4,000-year-old cheese in it," you say and pout at him. "I want a proper burger, with normal cheese and lettuce and pickles-" your rant is interrupted by the loud noise of Beel's stomach, so loud that the entire class turns to look at you for a second before realising it's just Beel. The teacher sighs and resumes the lesson. Your brows furrow in concern. "You got any lunch left, big guy?" you ask and Beel shakes his head while holding onto his stomach.
Without looking up from his book a single time, Satan, sitting in front of you, reaches down into his bag and pulls out his lunch, giving it to Beel. Beel gratefully accepts it, with a sheepish look.
"Thanks, bro."
ੈ♡˳
Your craving for a real cheeseburger doesn't go away, but you resolve to not tell Beel about it after his... expressive reaction. That's until three days later when Beels is pulling you down the street by your hand. "Beel, where are we going?" you ask, but he just smiles at you, grinning from ear to ear. "Mmmh, it's a surprise," he says. You don't realize where you are until you're standing in front of the passage that you've used a couple of times before. The seal to the human realm.
"What's going on?" you ask. Beel shrugs. "Got permission from Lucifer to take you to a real burger place," he says and you stare at him in awe. "Beel, that's really nice of you," you say and he smiles. "Yeah, yeah, thank me later,"
Before you know it, you're pulled into the passage with a squeal.
ੈ♡˳
The great thing about going out with Beel is that there is absolutely no shame when it comes to ordering food. The demon is as shameless as a baby. The more the two of you order, the more the cashier in front of you seems to pale. Pretty much every burger on the menu is ordered, several portions of fries, every single dip, 20 chili cheese tops, 3 milkshakes (one for each flavour), 2 sodas, chicken wings-
"Oh, Beel, you gotta taste this one, it's the best," you say, pointing at the menu. The cashier begrudgingly adds it to your total. "Anything else I can do for you?" they ask and you smile apologetically at them. "I think we're good for now," you say pinching Beel's arm, before he begins ordering any more. He closes his mouth and blinks at you. You wonder how long he would continue to order if you didn't stop him.
"Will you be eating here or taking it with you?" The cashier asks and they raise their brows when you tell them you'll be eating it there. Probably wondering how two people can eat that much food.
You honestly can't even blame them, but it's not like you can explain that they're dealing with the Avatar of Gluttony. Beel doesn't even seem to notice the cashier's judgment when he pulls out Lucifer's card and pays for the food.
You find a secluded table and sit down. It feels almost too normal, being back in your own world, sitting at a fast-food restaurant. Beel notes your nostalgia and grabs your hand. You smile at him. "Truly, Beel, thank you for this. I needed it," you say and once again Beel just shrugs.
"Figured it was the least I could do," he says. "You've done so much for us, always getting caught in me 'n my brother's fights," he mumbles and begins to rub soothing circles into your wrist. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a while before you lean over the table to place a chaste kiss to his lips. Beel's belly grumbles and he leans over to chase your lips, but you're interrupted when three workers come over and place an insane amount of food on your table. You smile at Beel and shrug when he makes a disappointed noise.
"We're definitely getting dessert after this right?" he asks, still oblivious to the judgemental stares from the restaurant workers, but you find yourself not caring either when you grin mischievously.
"How about I'll be your dessert?"
a/n: so i did some research and i couldn't really figure out if chili cheese tops is an international thing of just a scandinavian thing? it's fried cheeseballs with jalapeno in them and bread on the outside. is that a thing in your country?
thanks for reading! find my other stuff here.
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xxsabitoxx · 4 months
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Fushiguro Megumi hates it when you get injured.
Something about it, no matter how big or small the injury is, just gets under his skin and pisses him off. Which comes off has him being mad at you, unfortunately. It’s not his intention, fuck no, he’s just so upset it happened in the first place.
It’s not till you get injured bad that you realize he’s not mad at you, rather, he’s mad at himself. There is a lingering guilt in Megumi’s eyes when you get hurt, as if he failed you.
“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” You had questioned late one night, laying in an infirmary bed with an IV in your arm because Shoko’s technique and the curse’s attack were not working well together. Meaning you were on strict bed rest until you were fully healed. Megumi hated that too, of course.
He didn’t answer, instead he flipped the page of his book with pursed lips. “I’m talking to you, Meg. It’s rude to ignore.” That got to him, closing his book slowly as he dragged his eyes up the bed to look at you. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”
You repeated your previous statement, knowing he heard you the first time but he wouldn’t answer unless you asked again. “Yeah.” His tone was low, not convincing whatever. “Liar.” You shot back, moving your arm to rub your tired eyes.
Megumi watched the tube move with you, the dark liquid slowly dripping from the bag down the line and into your veins. “I’m not lying.” He nearly spat, anger bubbling in his gut at the sight of the retched medical machinery you were hooked too.
You sighed, “I’m sorry for getting hurt. I know it’s frustrating and all but li-“ but Megumi was cutting you off with a near incredulous look. “What?” Was all he said, leaving you to blink at him as you tried to wrap your head around his confusion.
“Y-you’re mad cause I’m careless, right? Because I keep weighing you down by getting myself injured?” You stated this as if it were factual, watching Megumi’s face morph into one of genuine bewilderment and mild offense.
“No?! What the fuck makes you think that?!”
"Because... you don't talk to me for like three days after the fact?" Megumi couldn't exactly fight you on that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it really did come off that way. "I...shit no that's not..." he tossed his book on your bed, hands coming up to rub his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.
"I'm not mad at you. I've never once been mad at you for getting injured. I just..." he sighed, turning to look at you now "...I just get frustrated with myself. I don't like seeing you hurt, it makes me feel like I didn't do enough. Then, I sit here promising myself to do better for you the next time we go out on a mission together, and then we end up right back here. With you in a hospital bed."
Megumi's face had turned a shade of pink. He always felt fidgety having these kinds of conversations. Especially with you, especially about his feelings. "Oh..." you started, mulling over his words carefully before sighing. "You can't beat yourself up over this stuff, Megumi. It's my life and my choice to be a sorcerer. Getting hurt is part of the job." You watched him shift in his chair.
"I know it's part of the job. I just don't like seeing you get hurt. Especially when I'm supposed to be supporting you. We're supposed to look out for each other on these missions and I keep failing you." Megumi's eyes darted anywhere around the room, hands folding neatly as he tried not to seem nervous.
"Megumi." You stated it bluntly, praying he'd look up. He did, of course, he did. For some reason, he couldn't deny you when you said his name like that. "C'mere." you whispered, motioning him to sit on the edge of your bed. He listened, getting up to move the small distance and trying his best to keep you stable as the bed dipped.
"You can't go on with your life quietly beating yourself up for things that are out of your control... and mine for that matter." Your hand carefully reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth burning under your fingertips. Megumi looks at you, head-turning reluctantly. "I love you too much to let you feel guilty."
Quiet. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The look on Megumi's face was utterly priceless. Pure disbelief. No way he heard you correctly. His tired mind and sore back must be playing tricks on him. "You... what?" He croaked, brows furrowing in denial. You smile, huffing out a laugh. "I said I love you, Megumi."
He wasn't sure how to act in that moment. Every word he could think of was fizzling out before it could reach his mouth. Instead of killing himself trying to respond verbally, Megumi did the only thing he could think of. A surprised squeak left you as his lips pressed against yours, hands shaking as they gingerly cupped your cheeks.
The kiss itself lasted maybe twenty seconds, leaving you a little breathless from being unprepared as he pulled away. "I... guess that means you love me too?" you teased him, a grin on your face. Softly, Megumi huffed out a laugh before responding.
"Yeah, it means I love you too."
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Started this a few days ago and didn’t even realize it was Megumi’s birthday today! So, happy birthday, Meg :)
Hope you enjoyed! - May
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that-sarcastic-writer · 9 months
Text
After Hours
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DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language
WC: 8.2k I am so sorry
A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth
Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last night🙃)
Universe Masterlist
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You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too. 
"Mhm, and she said— Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher. 
The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher. 
"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion. 
"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now." 
Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student. 
"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you. 
Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too. 
Leon Kennedy.
"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad. 
She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt. 
"I'm sorry daddy." 
"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in. 
"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes. 
"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks. 
"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. 
"What— y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet. 
"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless. 
You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous. 
"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression. 
Seriously?
"Okay." 
"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting. 
"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?" 
"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this." 
He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes. 
"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it? 
"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.
"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?" 
You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed. 
"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head. 
"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you." 
"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat. 
Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feel— No. That's inappropriate. Focus. 
"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms. 
"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty." 
"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom can—" 
"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed. 
You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot. 
"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."
"I am. It's just that my job—" 
"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again." 
Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed. 
"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant. 
"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough. 
"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?" 
"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time." 
He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss." 
~~~~~~~~~~
"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess. 
"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.
Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad. 
"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?" 
"Yes. He said he would." Good. 
"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.
"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad. 
It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy. 
"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here." 
She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours. 
"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.
As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh. 
"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about. 
"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He's—" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec." 
She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her. 
"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime." 
"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh. 
"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will." 
"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself. 
"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation. 
You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong. 
"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face. 
"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes. 
His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face. 
"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty." 
Now it was your turn to be fluttered. 
"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly. 
"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy." 
"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you. 
God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead. 
"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."
"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face. 
"Yeah well, I try."
"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did. 
"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table." 
"Mr—" 
"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time." 
You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm. 
"I'll be seeing you around, Leon." 
He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note. 
Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. —Miss
"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon." 
"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble." 
"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"
"I asked if she wanted to, actually." 
"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?" 
Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph." 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there. 
"Woah… You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly. 
"Thank you. You look good too." 
"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown." 
The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit. 
You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if that’s what he wanted. 
“Mmm Leon,” You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Izzy. Is she—”
“Not here. She’s at my friend’s for the night.” He answered in between kisses.
“You have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Aren’t you lucky?”
“Can we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. 
A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave.  
Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed. 
He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back. 
"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess. 
You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.
You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met. 
"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.
"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath. 
A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable. 
"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?" 
You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded. 
"Yeah, okay." 
He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down. 
"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you. 
Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs. 
"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. 
A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence. 
"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. 
"Please." A weak plea was all you could say. 
"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on. 
"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care. 
"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question. 
"I… Yes I— Of course I can handle you." 
Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again. 
"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me." 
You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle. 
"I won't break Leon." 
A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point." 
He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit. 
"Oh my—" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck." 
Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed. 
"Shit— Leon—!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you. 
He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that. 
"Fuck fuck— Shit Leon please—" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Please— I'm so close please, please don't stop." 
Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard. 
Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak. 
"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.
You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it. 
"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me." 
When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain. 
But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock. 
He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet. 
He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling. 
"Leon—" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress. 
"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock. 
"I— I'm sorry—" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. 
He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times. 
"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though." 
With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him. 
Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you. 
"Leon— Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress. 
"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you. 
He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this. 
You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.
With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear. 
"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?" 
You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame. 
"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words. 
Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress. 
His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist. 
"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing. 
Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too. 
"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck." 
He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long. 
"Ah— Shit— Leon—" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wanna—" 
"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's it— Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me." 
He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now. 
"Yeah— yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuck— Fuck I'm gonna— Shit." 
He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him. 
"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left. 
"Oh fuck— fuck that's a good girl— Ah—" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that." 
His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you. 
Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. 
"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.
You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile. 
"Of course not. I… I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride. 
"Well, I do like to be the exception." 
"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled. 
You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacher— who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you. 
"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused. 
"I mean… I'm supposed to, right?" 
Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?" 
"Well. Uh… Yeah. I mean, Izzy—" He cut you off right then and there. 
"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't… I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I just—" 
Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now. 
"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips. 
"I wouldn't mind either." 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you. 
He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing. 
You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you found— his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge. 
Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom. 
Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around? 
"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen. 
You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh. 
"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead. 
"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.
He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. 
You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips. 
"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too." 
You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them. 
"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. 
Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit and—
You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. 
You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen. 
"It says Claire." 
Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically. 
"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?" 
He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh. 
"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon." 
Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry. 
"It's Izzy. I left her at my friend’s and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest. 
You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night." 
"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets… Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter. 
"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could. 
"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?" 
The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried. 
"Yeah, I'll be around." 
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