#but his smile doesn’t waver even when he cries out

[phddyke]

Well… at least Adam didn’t wipe the smile off his face…

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo

gn reader - fem clothing

“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”

Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 

“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.

But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”

Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”

His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 

“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”

You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.

“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”

You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.

“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”

“Shut up.” You snap.

He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”

You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.

“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”

You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.

You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”

But he’s not done having his fun. 

“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”

Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.

“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”

“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”

You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.

But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”

The tears slip while you look up at him. 

He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.

You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.

“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.

“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.

“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.

But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”

“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.

“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.

He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 

You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 

“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”

He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.

He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.

“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”

You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.

“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~

He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”

He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”

You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”

But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.

So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”

He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”

You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”

He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”

You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”

But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”

You giggle at his silly dramatics. 

“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”

Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 

“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”

He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.

His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 

“But you would never leave me, right?”

The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.

You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.

“Never.”

[luveline]

oh I think about kbd daily

—Steve has a small surprise for you after dinner. mom!reader, 3k

“What’s wrong with Dove?” you ask. 

Dove lays on the floor. Avery sits beside her, rubbing back with eyes trained on the TV. “Daddy told her no. She wanted to climb on the counter in the kitchen. Then she bit him.” 

You sigh. It’s not the best scene to come home too, but you can make it work. “I got the cherry pops,” you tell her. 

Avery grins. “Awesome.” 

You cross the room and squat in front of them. Avery accepts a kiss on the forehead, but Dove whimpers when you touch her. “Are you sulking, Dovie?” you ask. 

She makes an annoyed sound. 

“You’ve been biting poor daddy?” you ask her. 

“No.” 

“Are you lying to me?”

She cries. You smile ruefully. “I’m just asking if you bit him, baby.” 

“I didn’t.” 

You don’t believe her, but sometimes, sometimes, it’s better to agree with a sulking child rather than tell them off. You don’t want to make a spoiled kid, but you don’t want to make the whole thing into a big scene when Avery’s just trying to watch TV. You’re sure Steve gave Dove his own warning when the bite happened initially. 

You rub her back. 

“How are you, Avery?” you ask softly, looking at your eldest with a fondness yet to waver. Long years of loving her have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I’m okay, mom.”

“Did you have a good day?” 

“It was good! Daddy put those rolled up sandwiches in my lunch and everybody was jealous. And we made paintings, but mine was still wet at home time.” 

You give her a proud kiss. “Good, baby, that’s good. Where’s Bethie, do you know?” 

“In the kitchen.” 

Dove whines. 

You slip a hand under her soft belly and turn her onto her back. She glares at you through pink eyes, clearly tired and not coping with it very well. “It’s okay, honey. I missed you, I wanted to see your beautiful face. Can I make you a buppy?” 

Dove likes the sounds of it, finally sitting up where she’s been lounging on the floor. 

You give Avery another proud kiss. “Thank you for rubbing her back,” you say. 

Avery grins, her hands reaching for you before you can stand for a quick hug. You pat her skinny shoulder, wondering to yourself if she needs to be eating more snacks. “I missed you, too, mom.” 

“Oh, I missed you,” you tell her. She’d never understand just how much. “Do you need anything from the kitchen, mm? Maybe a yoghurt or something?” 

“Dad says dinner is nearly ready.” 

“But do you want yoghurt?” 

She nods her head. 

Pleased with your first assessment of the evening, you dump your keys and handbag and remember to take your shoes off, shoving them half-heartedly near the door. They send a foam soccer ball tumbling toward the corner of the room. 

You drag yourself to the kitchen and press open the ajar door. Steve is not where you’d assumed, but Beth is there at the kitchen table with her unicorn stuffie, it’s purple fur shiny but scruffy under her hand. She’s talking to him, and seems shyly caught when she sees you. 

“Hi, baby. Hi, Snuffles.” 

Beth smiles. “He says hi.” 

You open the cabinet by the fridge and pull out a clean bottle. It isn’t sterilised but it doesn’t need to be for Dove. She isn’t drinking formula, either, just cow’s milk straight from the jug. You grab a yoghurt for Avery while the fridge is open, then remember the box of cherry ice pops in your handbag and double back for them before they can melt. As soon as they’re in, you go back to the fridge for the yoghurts. 

“Beth, you want a yoghurt?” you ask. 

“Dad says dinner’s nearly ready.” 

“I know, but they’re only small. Peach?” you offer. 

Beth reaches for one. You give her a yoghurt and a little spoon, pressing your nose into her hair for a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back to ask about your day, okay?” 

“Okie dokie.” 

“And Snuffles’, too!” 

Beth giggles as you leave. You give Avery her own yoghurt and a spoon, and you give Dove her bottle. She shoves it in without looking and from that moment on her eyes are locked onto the screen. 

There. Complicated, but done. 

You press a hand to your head and think after your husband. He isn’t usually quiet or unseen. Most days you get home to him in the kitchen trying to make dinner, or sitting on the couch with one or three kids in his lap. There are no signs of him, besides his jacket on the hanger by the door. He’s still in the building, you think to yourself with a laugh. 

You turn out of the living room and find him rushing down the stairs. 

“Hey!” he says, scraping wet hair back from his face, his arms already open for you as he reaches the bottom step. 

“Hey!” you say back, smiling, not expecting his arms as they wrap around you. Nice arms. Nice husband. Smells like himself, almost a decade of familiarity in the way he covers your back with his arms. “You’re in a good mood for a chew toy.” 

“Fucking–” Steve laughs and squeezes your waist. “Yeah, I’m in a good mood, my girl’s home.” He gives your head a kiss and peels away, offering his arm out, evidence of little teeth in fat of his forearm. 

“How’d you handle that?” 

“Well, I shrieked like a kid and I did raise my voice, you know, like a super jerk, but she did try to bite through my skin.” 

One of the teeth marks is a puncture, and the rest of the bite will be a purple bruise by tomorrow. 

“I think that’s alright,” you say, touching his bruise, then his chin with the back of your hand. You stroke to his cheek. 

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says. 

“No.” 

“You are. This is sad. This is a level of obsession you should be ashamed of.” 

“No way.” 

“It’s sad,” he whispers, angling his head down to yours. 

You must’ve done something right today, the way he kisses you. Must look cute, or must’ve said the right thing, touched him the right way, his kissing long and gentle and loving, warming, tipping into steadiness as your lips part under his. Honestly, it’s a little shocking how deeply he kisses you, like a window into one of your more tender moments, right there in the middle of the hall. 

When he pulls away, you take his hand. “Are you okay?” you ask. 

“Fine. Just missed you.” 

“Huh…” You press his hand to your stomach. “Long day?” 

“No, it’s been okay, really. Apart from Dove turning cannibal, I have no complaints. Avery’s Avery, and Beth’s Beth.” 

Which is to say, Avery’s a sweetheart and Beth her quiet companion. The girls are actually, somehow, well-behaved, and you don’t have a clue how it happened because Steve aggravates and you think every problem can be solved with a cuddle. Dove seems more accurate to what you’d expected from one of Steve’s children, honestly, which isn’t to say she isn’t lovely or sweet or beautiful, you expected all of that too, but wow, can she get wound up. 

His good mood is too good, though. Yes, your kids are nice, yes, you have a lot to be happy for, but he’s practically beaming as he slips his hand behind your back and guides you to the living room. 

Dove sees her father and goes limp with guilt. She pulls the bottle from her mouth and pouts at him, her eyes silver at the waterline. “Daddy, I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “Are you mad?”

He rubs your back. “You know I’m not mad, it just hurts when somebody bites you, it surprised me. It really hurt, honey.” 

“I’m sorry.”  

“I know,” he says, “wanna kiss it better for me?” 

Dove abandons her bottle on the couch and struggles down to the floor. Even that turns his heart, you can tell, so it doesn’t surprise you when he takes her up into his arms the moment she’s close enough and kisses her cheek. “Me first,” he says. 

“Sorry I bit you,” she mumbles. 

“Daddy’s not mad,” he mumbles back, “it just hurt, that’s the thing. I don’t like being bitten.” 

“I won’t do it again,” she says clumsily. 

“Good! Thank you,” he says, grinning at you as she kisses his cheek, like, look at how freaking adorable she is. “Mom made your buppy? Are you gonna have dinner, honey, or should we sit down for a nap?” 

Steve ends up sequestered with Dove for a nap in the corner of the couch. He looks good, arguably at his finest with Dove tucked under his chin and his hand spread out across her back. She dozes and sniffles. He smiles against her hair. 

You spy on them from the kitchen doorway, sipping a cold glass of water. Dinner’s done, cooling on the counter on sheet trays. Steve’s made the usual, a big tray of buttered, roasted veggies and pot pie. There are pork chops for Beth and a few extra in case anyone wants their own, and there’s a bowl of peas because Dove loves them. He’s such a good guy, you think. You each have jobs to do, he has to make dinner, you have to wash the dishes after, but it doesn’t make it feel less true. He makes coming home the best part of every weekday. 

Another ten minutes and he’s kicked the big bean bag into shape, laying Dove down for a nap there. He spreads her pink baby blanket over her and fawns when it fails to cover her feet. 

“She’s getting so big,” he says, scratching his hand through his hair as he makes his way to you. 

“And so vocal,” you say. 

“I noticed that too, she’s saying more words at one time.” He puts a hand on your waist for no reason at all. 

“Maybe ‘cos Ave was home.” 

“You remember that day she woke up and all her pants didn’t fit anymore?” he asks. “It’s like that.” 

She would have only been four. Beth was still a baby. You’d made your way into Avery’s room as Steve gave a grizzly Beth her bottle, and, upon getting her dressed, discovered all of her pants were now too short. Her legs must’ve grown overnight. She hadn’t felt a thing. 

Beth gets growing pains something awful, but Avery keeps on shooting up without complaint. You’re sure she’ll be taller than Steve by the time she’s in high school. How beautiful she’ll be then. 

“What?” Steve asks you. 

“Nothing, just thinking. Time moves fast.” 

“If you don’t stop and look around–”

“Thanks, Ferris.” 

Steve moves you into the kitchen, tipping your head aside to kiss the line of your neck, and then splitting for the cabinet where you keep the plates. “You’re welcome.” 

You plate dinner. The oldest girls wander in and sit in their seats. Steve fills a carafe with lemonade and laughs when Avery makes a face, her first sip sour, cold, and carbonated. “It’s fizzing,” she says. 

“It’s soda,” Steve says. 

“You should warn me, dad!” 

“Is that okay?” you ask Beth, having cut up her two pork chops into small pieces. “Yeah? Do you want some more broccoli?” 

“Mommy, no one wants more broccoli.” 

“Don’t be like that, you know daddy makes the best broccoli, it’s got honey and salt and pepper–”

“And garlic butter,” Steve says. 

You sit in the chair beside Beth’s and drag your plate in front of you. “I’m gonna have more.” 

“Okay, I will have more too,” she says. 

“Want some green beans?” you ask. 

“Um, no. Just broccoli.”

Avery stabs at her green beans enthusiastically. She eats every bit of food on her plate no matter the colour, and she asks Steve for seconds, which he plates up for her immediately, despite being mid-mouthful. Under the table, he pushes his ankle against yours. It’s a quiet, normal dinner. Even Snuffles gets a bite of pork. 

“That alright?” Steve asks you. 

“Amazing, honey, like usual. Really good, I don’t know how you make vegetables taste unhealthy.” 

“All the butter,” he says, rubbing his ankle against yours. 

“Are you done?” you ask. 

He pushes the serving plate of veggies toward you. “Go ahead, beautiful.” 

You take what’s left of the veggies. Avery gets another slice of pot pie. Beth finishes all of her pork and a few of the potatoes. The broccoli, despite her wanting more, go mostly untouched. All in all, everyone’s fed. 

“You did make a plate for Dove,” you ask suddenly, worried you’ve been greedy. 

“Yeah, I did, don’t worry. I made her enough peas to feed her three times over. And I can make more, if you want more.” 

You try not to flush. It’s not like Steve’s unaware of your appetite, and he doesn’t expect you to survive off of salad and saltines, but you’re still embarrassed enough to shake your head vehemently. “Yikes.” 

“Stop, you’re fine.” He takes a square of roasted potato off of your plate, wipes his hands in a napkin, and squeezes you by the shoulders. “Just gonna check Dove.” 

Beth scrambles off of her seat at the first opening. “I’m done.” 

“Can I make you a PB–”

“No!” She grins at you. “No thanks, I’m full.”

“You gotta have oatmeal later, then.” 

She nods like this is fine. “Yes, thank you.” She leaves for the living room. You hear her shy, “Thanks for dinner, daddy,” and Steve’s adoring, “You’re so welcome, thank you for eating it. Come here, let me give you a kiss.” Giggling and the sound of smacking pecks follows. 

Avery sits up. “Can I have another drink?” 

You cram the last of the broccoli into your mouth and stand. You pour her lemonade and start stacking the plates to carry them over to the sink. 

“No, I’ll help!” Avery says. 

“Baby, it’s okay. Drink your drink and have five minutes. You don’t wanna get sick.” 

“You haven’t had five minutes.” 

You laugh. “My body’s bigger than yours, so it only needs the one. It’s really okay, just finish your dinner and you can help me dry the knives and forks. I’ll save them for last.” 

Steve returns. “Girls,” he says, tucking the chairs under the table, “I didn’t expect you guys to be so hungry, I forgot about the secret.” 

You scrape what’s left on your plate into the trash. “What secret?” 

He beams again. 

“I knew there was something up,” you say, dumping your plate in the sink. 

“I made something else.” 

You lift your head in a rush. You know exactly what he’s gonna say before you ask. “You made–”

“Your favourite,” he says cockily, crossing his arms over his chest. “No biggie. Ave, you got room for dessert, babe?” 

“I think so. You might have to do that thing to my tummy.” 

Steve is a professional at post dinner tummy rubs. What is it about kids and their tummy aches?

After everything —Avery finishing her dinner, washing the dishes, drying and putting them away, turning on the heat for the night, gathering a load of laundry for the machine— Steve sits down in the armchair, and you sit in his lap. A bowl of dessert with two spoons on your chest. 

“If I’m too heavy,” you say. 

“You’re never too heavy, I hate when you say that shit.” 

“You always try to get me in your lap, that’s why.” 

“This is where you’re supposed to be.” He cuts into the ice cream with his spoon. “You’re not heavy. If you ever get too heavy for me, I’ll just get bigger.”

“I’d like to get smaller eventually.” 

“Stop it. You’re perfect.” 

You let your face rest above his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, shut up.” 

“I’m never shutting up.” He offers you his spoon. The point of two was to make it so he didn’t do this, but he does it anyway, wiping the corner of your mouth when you pull back. “Messy.” 

“I can’t believe you made this.”

“I knew it’d make you happy.” 

You turn his face and kiss his cheek softly. A lingering kiss, trying to press affection into his every pore. “I love you.” 

“I know.” He shifts your weight, as though hoping to pull you closer despite a lack of space. This close you can see the freckles under his eyes and across his nose, just a couple, light brown and sparse. His eyes are relaxed, his eyelashes long in the corners and tangling with the ones at the bottom. What use does he have for such nice eyes?

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the evening? You’ve already showered,” you say, gaze back to your dessert. 

“I gotta give the bathroom a clean, and then nothing.” He puts his hand to your face, the very side of his palm against your cheek, framing you. He turns his hand completely and rubs your chin with his thumb. “I think I had one of those days where I really missed you.” 

“Like I’d been gone longer than I was.”

“Exactly.”

You hum with the pleasure of being liked so much and close your eyes. Predictable, Steve leans down to kiss you. It’s all he seems to do lately, a hundred kisses a day. 

“Okay, help me eat this so we can snuggle,” he says. 

“I’m not snuggling with you.” 

“Cuddle?” 

“No, don’t think so.” 

“A hug where we’re both laying down?” he suggests. 

“That’s far more reasonable.” 

He laughs, picking up his spoon again. Your face is cold without his touch, the other hand slipping down to your hip. 

When the dessert is done, he sets the bowl aside and pulls you against his, majority of your back to his chest, his face a heat at the side of your own. He crosses his arms over your stomach and holds it. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing this forever,” he says. 

“But who will look after our poor children?” you ask, letting your eyes slip closed in bliss. 

“If we have a couple more they can look after each other.” 

You like the sounds of that. The first part, not so much the second. “Just a couple,” you say. 

—

kbd au

[loveinhawkins]

It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

[lunaswicked]

Devotion

Paring: Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

Tags: Jealousy, fighting, mentions of a little blood, pure smut, devotion, language, p in v, 18+, toxic

Summary: Jey struggles to balance his raw desire and deep devotion for the woman who unexpectedly captures his heart.

WC: 4.4K

Today was the day everything changed—the day the dog finally snapped.  

It was unexpected, even shocking, given how close you and Jey had always been. From the moment you joined WWE two years ago, Jey had been your rock, a brother and best friend wrapped into one. His laughter a balm during grueling training sessions that could have otherwise drained your spirit. He had this way of making the chaos of the WWE universe feel a little less overwhelming, always finding the humor in the toughest moments and pushing you to be your best.  

And it wasn’t just about work. The memories of those late-night trips to Waffle House came rushing back. You’d sit in that cozy booth under fluorescent lights, indulging in plates of scattered, smothered, and covered hash browns while the jukebox hummed in the background. Every laugh, every ridiculous story shared over syrupy waffles, solidified a bond that felt unbreakable. He was always there for you, defending you against anyone who dared to step out of line, no questions asked. But today… today felt like a storm rolling in, dark and unpredictable.  

Looking back, you wondered if you had ignored the warning signs. There were moments, subtle at first, when Jey’s easygoing nature would shift. His jaw would clench, his smile would falter, and his eyes would darken whenever he saw you talking with another man. The air around him would grow heavy, tense, like he was barely holding something back. Then there were the times he wouldn’t leave your side, hovering at training sessions, public events, even casual hangouts. His constant presence was once comforting, but recently it felt suffocating, his concern teetering into something unspoken and overwhelming.  

It started after your match against Bianca. Exhaustion clung to you as you wove through the bustling crowd of wrestlers, staff, and equipment. All you wanted was a moment to yourself, a chance to decompress. But as you turned a corner, Dominik Mysterio appeared, his smile easy but his presence anything but.  

“Y/N,” he called, stepping into your path, his voice light but persistent. “We should talk. You’re always so quick to run off.”  

His tone grated against your nerves, and though you tried to brush him off with polite indifference, he wasn’t having it. His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to make your stomach churn with unease.  

“Don’t walk away,” he said, irritation lacing his words. “I’m trying to fucking get to know you—”  

“Do we got a problem?”  

The voice was low, commanding, and unmistakable. You turned, relief and apprehension flooding you all at once. Jey stood there, his eyes narrowed and intense, his signature red Yeet crop top and cargo pants adding to his imposing aura. The dim backstage lighting cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp edge of his jaw and the fire in his eyes.  

Dominik tensed but didn’t back down, his confidence wavering as Jey’s gaze bore into him. “This doesn’t concern you,” Dominik said, though his voice faltered.  

The words had barely left his mouth when Jey’s fist connected with his nose in a blur of motion. The sound was sharp, a sickening crunch that made you flinch. Dominik stumbled back, clutching his face, blood trickling between his fingers.  

“Jey, stop!” you cried, rushing forward, but he wasn’t listening.  

In one swift move, Jey grabbed Dominik by the collar, slamming him against the wall with enough force to rattle a nearby stack of metal chairs. Dominik gasped, his hands scrambling against Jey’s iron grip.  

“Touch her again,” Jey growled, his voice dripping with venom, “and Imma fuck you up.”  

The scene was surreal. Jey, the same man who once teased you over burnt toast and sang off-key in the car, now stood before you like a force of nature, his anger palpable. You tugged at his arm, your voice breaking as you pleaded, “Jey, please, let him go. This isn’t worth it!”  

For a moment, his eyes flicked to yours, and you saw something raw and conflicted beneath the rage. Slowly, he released Dominik, who crumpled to the floor, coughing and sputtering. The tension hung heavy in the air as Jey turned to you, his features softening.  

“I’m taking you home,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

You hesitated, the weight of everything pressing down on you. “No, Jey,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I just… I need space.”  

His expression shifted, worry etched into every line of his face. “I’m not letting you go alone, ma. Not after that.”  

The sincerity in his voice broke through your defenses, and with a trembling sigh, you nodded. “Fine,” you said quietly. “But promise me… no more scenes.”  

As you walked side by side through the backstage maze, the world felt both heavier and lighter. Jey’s presence was a storm—chaotic, overwhelming—but in that moment, it was the only anchor you had.  

The ride home was quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions that lingered between the two of you. Jey's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles faintly white under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. Every few moments, his gaze darted toward you, scanning your face and frame like he was searching for signs of pain or distress.

"You good, ma?" he asked softly, his voice low and soothing, almost as if he was afraid speaking louder might shatter the fragile quiet between you.

"I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You kept your eyes on the window, watching the world blur by in streaks of neon and shadow, but you could feel his attention lingering on you, even as he turned his focus back to the road.

"You sure?" His tone carried a weight of concern that tugged at something deep inside you. "Ain't no bruises or nothin'? You gotta tell me if there is."

You glanced down at your hands, your fingers twisting the hem of your hoodie. "No bruises," you murmured. "Just...wanna go home, I guess."

He nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced. His free hand briefly left the wheel, brushing against your arm in a reassuring touch. "You ain't gotta act tough with me, Y/N. I see you, ma. I know tonight was a lot."

His words made your throat tighten, and you fought the urge to cry. There was something about the way he spoke, so protective, so genuinely caring, that made it harder to keep your emotions in check. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, that you could handle it, but deep down, you weren't sure if that was true.

The rest of the drive passed in a blur of headlights and muffled music from the radio playing softly in the background. When Jey finally pulled up outside your apartment, he put the car in park but didn’t move to turn off the engine. Instead, he shifted in his seat to face you fully.

"You gonna be alright by yourself?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "I can stay if you need me to. Don’t matter how late it is."

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell him no, that you needed space to process everything. But another part of you—the part that still felt the ghost of Dominik’s grip on your wrist—didn’t want to be alone.

“I…” You faltered, your voice barely steady. “I don’t know.”

His brows furrowed, concern etched across his features. "Then I’m stayin’. I ain’t leavin’ you like this. Not tonight." His tone left no room for argument, but there was no harshness in it—just a quiet determination.

Before you could protest, he was out of the car and coming around to your side. He opened your door and held out his hand to help you out. The gesture was so gentle, so unlike the fury you'd seen in him earlier, that it made your chest ache.

Once inside your house, the air was thick with tension, though not the kind that made you uneasy. It was heavy with unspoken emotions, the aftermath of what had just unfolded. Jey trailed behind you, silent but present, his footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floors.

You led him to your room, unsure of what else to do. The space was your sanctuary, but tonight it felt foreign with him in it—not unwelcome, just different. Jey sat on the edge of your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low. His usually confident demeanor was nowhere to be seen; instead, he looked weighed down, his broad shoulders slumped under the invisible burden of guilt.

"I fucked up," he muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was raw, laced with regret.

You didn’t respond, partly because you didn’t know what to say and partly because you weren’t sure he was looking for an answer. His words were more for himself than for you, a confession spoken into the stillness of the room.

Instead of dwelling on it, you grabbed a towel and some clothes, slipping into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The warm water cascaded over you, washing away the grime of the night, but it couldn’t cleanse the thoughts swirling in your mind.

As you stood there, letting the water soothe your tense muscles, your mind wandered to Jey. You thought about the way he’d looked at you in the car, his concern etched so clearly on his face. You thought about how he’d rushed to your side, how fiercely he’d defended you—even if his actions might’ve caused more trouble than they solved.

It hit you then, the depth of his devotion. It wasn’t just words with him, wasn’t just hollow promises. Jey had a way of showing you, even when you didn’t want to see it. He’d always been there, steady and sure, but tonight had stripped away any doubts. He cared, deeply, in a way that felt almost overwhelming. And yet, you’d been blind to it until now.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, your thoughts felt as tangled as your wet hair. You wrapped yourself in a soft robe, tying it securely around your waist before padding back to your room.

The sight that greeted you made your chest tighten. Jey was still sitting on the edge of your bed, in the same position you’d left him. His hands were clasped together, his head bowed, as if he was lost in thought—or maybe prayer. The soft glow of your bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of tension around his mouth and the furrow of his brows.

“You don’t have to beat yourself up,” you said softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

Jey’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just took you in—the damp hair framing your face, the way your robe clung to your frame. His gaze wasn’t predatory or heated; it was searching, as if he was trying to gauge where you stood with him.

“can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Should’ve kept my cool. But when I saw him put his hands on you…” His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his fists tightening in his lap. “I lost it, mama. I lost it ’cause I couldn’t stand him touching you.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the raw honesty in his tone. You took a step closer, then another, until you were standing in front of him. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the vulnerability in them nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“You did what you thought you had to do,” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his shirt, grounding you. “I’m not mad at you, Jey. I just… I need a little time to process everything.”

He nodded slowly, his hand reaching up to cover yours where it rested on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need, ma. I just… I need you to know I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe. No matter what happens, I got you. Always.”

You lay on your bed, the soft covers beneath you a stark contrast to the chaotic emotions swirling in your chest. Jey followed suit without hesitation. Instead of laying beside you, he settled himself between your thighs, his strong arms draped over your hips like he was grounding himself in your presence. His cheek pressed against your stomach, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your robe.

This was new—uncharted territory for the two of you. You’d never been this close before, and yet, it didn’t feel wrong. It felt natural, like some unspoken barrier had finally been broken.

Without thinking, your hand found its way to his hair. Your fingers moved instinctively, threading through his soft curls and rubbing his scalp in slow, soothing motions. He let out a soft groan at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed as his body seemed to melt against yours.

“Ma…” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion. The single syllable held so much: need, relief, reverence.

You glanced down at him, your gaze catching his as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you. The way his dark eyes softened, how they searched yours like you held the answer to everything he’d been yearning for, made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words felt small compared to the weight of the moment, but they were all you could manage.

His lips parted slightly as your hand continued its gentle path through his hair. His pupils dilated, his gaze growing more intense with every stroke of your fingers. You could feel the tension in his body ease, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“This all I wanted,” he admitted softly, his voice shaky yet resolute. “To be close to you like this.”

His words made your chest tighten, and you couldn’t help but let your thumb brush against the shell of his ear, drawing another quiet groan from him. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you realized just how much trust he was placing in you at that moment.

“You deserve this,” you said, your voice firmer now, laced with conviction. 

His eyes closed briefly, as if your words were too much to take in. When they opened again, they glistened with unshed emotion. “You make me feel like… I’m enough,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly.

“You are,” you assured him, your hand never faltering in its movements. “You always have been.”

His fingers, hesitant yet deliberate, softly moved your robe to the side, revealing more of your skin to the cool air of the room. The motion was slow, as if he were testing your reaction, giving you every opportunity to stop him. His touch was warm and reverent, not rushed or demanding, but filled with an almost unspoken plea for closeness.

You felt your breath hitch as his fingertips brushed against your bare thigh, the sensation igniting a warmth that spread through you. Jey’s gaze flicked up to yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. When he found none, his lips parted slightly, and he let out a quiet exhale, almost like he was relieved.

“this okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he feared breaking the fragile intimacy that surrounded you both.

You swallowed hard, nodding slowly, unable to find the words to articulate the storm of emotions building within you. His touch was unlike anything you’d experienced before—gentle yet firm, protective yet vulnerable.

His thumb traced small circles on your thigh, his movements careful and measured. “so fucking sexy,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten. “Don’t think you even know how much.”

Your hand, still buried in his hair, stilled for a moment as you processed his words. The rawness of his tone, the way his gaze lingered on you like you were something sacred, made your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Jey…” you started, your voice trembling slightly, but he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’, ma,” he said softly, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. “Just let me… take care of you. Im sorry”

Your fingers instinctively tightened in Jey's hair, giving it a slight tug. The reaction was immediate—his deep, throaty groan vibrated against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His head tilted slightly, leaning into your touch as though your hand in his hair was all the grounding he needed.

"fuck," he murmured against you, his voice filled with raw hunger and devotion. His fingers, which had been resting on your thigh, moved with an agonizing slowness, brushing against your clothed pussy. The delicate pressure sent sparks of warmth coursing through you, your breath hitching in response.

The friction, though gentle, was enough to make you gasp, your hips subtly shifting to meet his touch. Jey’s eyes flicked up to yours, catching your expression, and the satisfaction in his gaze only deepened the heat pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft, almost reverent smile before leaning down to press a series of hungry but tender kisses at your pussy, the fabric of your underwear barely separating his lips from your sensitive skin.

Without a word, he dipped his head and took the waistband of your panties between his teeth, his grills glinting under the soft light. The cool touch of the metal sent a thrill through you as he slowly began to tug them down, his movements deliberate and teasing.

The sight of you bare before him seemed to shatter the last thread of Jey's composure. His pupils blew wide, his breathing turned shallow, and a guttural groan escaped his lips as his gaze roamed over every inch of your exposed skin. Something primal flickered in his expression, raw and unrestrained, like he was a man starved and you were his only salvation.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged as his fingers gripped your thighs with a reverence that bordered on desperation. “You got me losin’ my damn mind.”

With a growl, Jey shifted, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he effortlessly pinned your knees back by your head. The sheer dominance of the gesture sent a shiver through you, anticipation coiling tight in your belly. His dark eyes met yours briefly, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch, before he dove back in.

His mouth latched onto your clit, and he began to suck with a deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. A loud whimper tore from your lips before you could stop it, your head falling back against the pillow. “Fuck…” you moaned, your voice trembling as the sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Jey groaned against you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure as his tongue teased and circled, driving you wild. “Yeah, ma,” he muttered between sucks, his voice thick with desire. “Sing for me. Let me know how good it feels.”

Your hands gripped at the sheets, your knuckles white as the pleasure built, hot and fast. “Jey, oh my God,” you gasped, your hips trying to rise off the bed, but his firm hold kept you in place, completely at his mercy.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured against you, his breath hot and heavy as he returned to his relentless assault. His tongue flicked and swirled in perfect rhythm, every movement calculated to push you closer to the edge.

The intensity of his focus, the way he devoured you like you were his last meal, had you unraveling in record time. Each flick of his tongue, each pull of his lips, was a symphony of sensation that had you teetering on the brink, your body trembling under his touch.

But just as you were teetering on the edge of bliss, he stopped abruptly, leaving you breathless and trembling. Before you could even process the loss of contact, he moved with a urgency, flipping you over like you weighed nothing.  

His large hands smoothed over your hips, then hiked them up, positioning you exactly how he wanted. “Arch that back for me,” he commanded, his voice low and dripping with authority. Your body obeyed on instinct, your chest pressing into the mattress as you arched your hips higher.  

“Pl-please…jey” you whimpered, your voice desperate, need dripping from every syllable. Your legs trembled slightly as he lined himself up behind you, the thick head of his cock brushing teasingly against your slick entrance.  

“Please what, huh?” His tone was taunting yet velvety, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned forward, his lips grazing your earlobe as his words fanned hot against your skin. “You gotta use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”  

Your breath hitched, your lips parting, but before you could form a coherent response, he began to push the thick crown of his dick into you, inch by agonizing inch. “I need you… I need you inside- fuckkkk!” you cried out, your words dissolving into a loud moan as he stretched you open, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.  

Jey didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he thrust again, this time burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice guttural, laced with raw pleasure. “Tightest fuckin’ pussy I ever felt. You were made for me.”  

Your elbows gave out, your head dropping into the sheets as the intensity of his thickness overwhelmed your senses. Your moans were muffled by the fabric, but Jey wasn’t having that. His hand smoothed down your back before gripping your neck lightly, guiding your face to turn to the side so he could hear every sound you made.  

“Keep your face in the sheets, but don’t you dare hide those pretty little sounds from me,” he growled, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that spot that made you see stars.  

The rhythm of his hips escalated, and soon the room filled with the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin, the creaking of the bed, and the steady thud of the headboard against the wall. It was a symphony of filth, a testament to the primal connection between you.  

“You feel that?” he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure as his fingers dug into your hips. “Feel how deep I am, baby? This dick got you speechless, huh?”  

“Yes—yes!” you choked out, your voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. But your words were cut short when his hand cracked against your ass, the sting making you yelp before it melted into another moan.  

“That’s right,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he angled his hips to hit deeper. “Take it all, baby. This is mine, every fuckin’ inch of you.”  

His thrusts became more erratic, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your body shaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core. “Jey, I’m—oh my God, I’m so close!”  

“Good,” he growled, his hand gripping your waist to pull you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust. “Don’t hold back, baby. I wanna feel you cum all over me.”  

“Fuck…” Jey groaned, his voice low and hoarse, thick with his own pleasure. He leaned down, his lips brushing your cheek as he tasted the salty tear that had fallen. The gesture was unexpected, intimate in a way that made your chest tighten even as your body gave itself over to him completely.

Your hands gripped the sheets, bunching them into fists as your body shook. The obscene sound of your juices mixed with the rhythmic slap of his hips against yours filled the room, the sheets beneath you growing damp from the evidence of your arousal.

“Jey, I—” you tried to speak, but your voice broke off into a guttural moan as he shifted his angle, driving even deeper into you. It was too much and yet not enough all at once, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice full of pride as he watched your body writhe beneath him. “Drippin’ all over me. You’re so fuckin’ perfect, ma. Takin’ all this dick like you were made for me.”

You whimpered in response, your legs trembling as the tension in your core tightened impossibly more. He felt it too, the way your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his thrusts becoming sloppier but no less powerful. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

With a sharp cry, your body tensed, and the release hit you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred as you fell over the edge, your moans loud and broken as your orgasm ripped through you. Your body shook uncontrollably, your juices gushing onto him as he continued to fuck you through it, prolonging every moment of bliss.

“Shit, baby,” Jey groaned, his voice strained as your pulsing walls milked him. He buried himself deep, his thick length twitching inside you as he gave in to his own release. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me—” His words cut off into a deep, guttural moan as his hips stilled, his cock buried to the hilt as he spilled himself inside you.

You felt the warmth of his release, the way his body trembled above yours as he came, and it sent another shiver down your spine. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths hot and heavy against your skin.

For a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of your mingled breathing, the aftermath of what had just happened settling between you. His hands softened their grip on your hips, his touch turning tender as he smoothed them over your skin.

“You good?” he murmured after a beat, his voice soft now, full of concern despite the rawness of the moment.

You nodded weakly, your body too spent to form words. But as he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close, you realized that, in this moment, you’d never felt more wanted, more taken care of, or more his.

[trevorsgodmother]

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓭 (M.S 🌧/☁️)

☞ Masterlist Warnings: Angst, swearing, PERIOD PAINNNN 😍, crying, sobbing, did I mention pain? POV: First person (reader) Summary: It's that time of month! Excruciating pain! IT FUCKING HURTS, and ur boyfy Matty B helps comfort you 🥰

We're laying down in his bedroom, Matt hugging me from behind, breathing quietly in my ear. He's sound asleep, dead to the world around him, while I'm fading in and out of a light doze.

His bedroom door opens, and in comes his older brother Nick. The light flicks on, interrupting the somewhat comforting darkness of the room. I squint, suddenly blinded.   "Hm?" "Sorry to wake you up sleepyhead, I was just gonna see if Matt was awake" Nick says, walking in further. I shake my head to tell him that he's not, and he nods. "Turn the light off" I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nick sighs in amusement, turning it off. "All three of you are like vampires, I swear." He chuckles, referring to me and his two brothers. A wave of pain crashes into my abdomen, making me flinch. Nick's smile wavers. "Hey, you ok?" I nod, burrowing further down into the soft blankets. “Hurts” Nick nods sympathetically. “Do you need more painkillers?” I shake my head because I’d already taken some a few hours ago.

We talk for a few more minutes, but it’s mostly him yapping to distract me while I fail to get comfortable (I need Nick as my bestie so bad).

I keep shifting against Matt, and he groans in his sleep, getting slightly roused (not aroused SLUTS). He, half-asleep, clamps a hand down HARD on my stomach, pulling me backwards into him so I stop moving around. I wince, and Nick carefully pries Matt’s hand off, muttering under his breath about how his brother doesn’t know personal space.

“That idiot. He has no sense of his surroundings when he’s asleep.” I chuckle a little. “Yea, he moves around a lot.” Nick softly starts rubbing my stomach, trying to soothe the cramps. His palm is warm. "How's that feel..? Am I helping?" He asked. He was worried that nothing was working to make the pain go away. "Yea, thanks but it still-" I wince again. Because of our murmuring and my restlessness, Matt wakes up.

He slowly opens his eyes and groans, looking over at us two. "What's going on...?" He questioned, voice still groggy with sleep. "She's hurting a lot." Nick says, looking worried "And your dumbass kept hitting her in your sleep." Matt looks confused for a moment, before glancing down at where his arm is pushed off my stomach, and grimaces.

"Shit- sorry babe. I didn't realize I was doing that.." He looks guilty for his unconscious actions. I shake my head, reassuring him. "It's ok, you didn't do much. It's killing me though" Matt looked even more worried then, and he gently placed his hand on my stomach, feeling how much it hurt for himself. "God.. it feels like your stomach is on fire.. and the pain killers aren't doing anything?" He questioned, gently rubbing my stomach just like Nick had been doing. I shake my head, feeling more waves of pain wash over me.

It was too much. Nick leaves to make some tea, and my eyes fill with tears. Matt's widen, and he looks alarmed. "Hey hey hey..! It's okay, alright? Don't cry." He quickly tried to comfort me. The tears spill over, and the combination of pain and hormones make me start sobbing into his chest. He pulls me in closer, stroking the back of my head while whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Matt helps me calm down, my cries slowing down to hiccups. The cramps had dulled down to a throb, just mildly uncomfortable at this point. Nick comes back in, grinning a bit sheepishly, and places a steaming cup of tea on the bedside table. "Sorry that took so long (like this fucking fic)" I sniff and shake my head, smiling to lessen his guilt.

"It's ok. Thank you." Nick nods and leaves, casting Matt a half-joking look of anger for his earlier actions. Matt rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to me. He continues running his fingers through my hair, helping me relax. "Damn, this month's being a bitch, huh?" He mumbles. I don't reply, too exhausted by my outpour of emotions and the pain.

We stay like that for a bit, my stomach settling while he continues to comfort me. He turns on a movie and we cuddle under the sheets. His warm body is pressed against mine, while my head is tucked under his chin.

Matt is humming slightly, his breath tickling my head and making me giggle. A wide smile breaks out on his face, the mood instantly lifted. "Why're you getting so giggly huh?" He asks in mock-confusion. I shake my head fondly, lightly pushing his chest. "Shut up, dumbass" "Hey, this dumbass made you feel better. Also, i'm pretty smart." I roll my eyes "No you're not, idiot"

A/N: If you can't tell, it's my shark week 😔 AND IT HURTS SM OMFG. I need a cuddle from Chris rn. There was also a little throwback at the end (ogs will get it) TL: @hearts4werka @stvrnzcherries @spaghetti835928383 @pvssychicken @snowysosturn @sturnmeovr No shtealing Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3 -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 19 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo’s hand trembled as he brought the bottle of Holy Water to his mother’s lips. He had faced countless enemies, stared down death itself, and yet this moment, this single act of hope, made his entire body shake. Doubts swirled in his mind. What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m too late?

The glass clinked softly against her lips, but his grip faltered, and his resolve wavered. That was when he felt it—warmth. A steadying hand on his back and another gently covering the one holding the bottle.

His dark eyes turned to meet yours, your steady gaze offering him a silent reassurance. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon both of you, but your quiet smile cut through the tension, a calming balm for his fraying nerves. You gave a small nod, glancing toward his mother.

Jinwoo swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. Emboldened by your presence, he tilted the bottle carefully, letting the liquid trickle past his mother’s lips. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you both watched her, hoping, praying for any sign that the Holy Water was working.

At first, there was nothing. Then, slowly, her pale complexion began to change, color returning to her cheeks. Her breathing, once shallow and faint, grew deeper and more even. Relief washed over Jinwoo, his shoulders sagging, but his mother still didn’t wake.

“Let’s wait,” you murmured gently, breaking the silence. You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, guiding him to sit in the chair beside the hospital bed. He sank into it, his body slumping forward, tension still lingering in his frame.

“I’ll go get us some water,” you said softly, stepping toward the door.

Before he could think, his hand shot out, gripping yours tightly. Memories surged to the forefront of his mind: the sight of you collapsing in the Demon Castle, your body unnaturally still. The trial player, the one he thought of as unshakable, had been brought to the brink. He remembered the helplessness that consumed him then, the way his hands hovered over you as if touching you might break what little thread of life remained.

Even when you stirred much later, vomiting and disoriented, the haunting image of you lying there refused to leave him. It was the first time he realized how wrong he’d been to think of you as stronger, untouchable. Seeing you then had cracked something inside him, a realization that your endurance came at a cost he’d never truly considered.

And now, the thought of you walking away—even for something as simple as water—ignited that same fear, buried deep in his chest.

“Please… stay,” he whispered.

His voice was small, barely audible, but the silence of the room made it impossible for you not to hear. Your heart ached as you turned back to him, his head bowed low, his hair obscuring his face. You gently patted his hand, offering quiet reassurance.

“I’m just getting some water, Jinwoo. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you said.

He felt the faintest touch of warmth in your words, somewhere deep in his chest where the cold shadows couldn’t reach. His grip loosened reluctantly, and he let you go, though his head remained bowed. Even as you left the room, the imprint of your promise lingered, keeping his anxieties at bay.

---

The hospital halls were eerily quiet, the stillness of the night amplifying every sound. You leaned your back against the wall beside the open door to Jinwoo’s mother’s room, clutching the tray of glasses and water bottles.

From where you stood, you could hear the soft murmurs of conversation filtering through the door. Jinwoo’s voice was quiet, trembling with suppressed emotion. His mother’s voice, faint but warm, responded gently. You heard the rustle of movement, the sound of their hands clasping.

Then came the sound you had never expected—Jinwoo’s quiet sobs. The relief and raw emotion in his cries were palpable, and your chest tightened.

Red fluttered near your cheek, nudging you gently. You blinked, startled by the sensation, and reached up to touch your face. Your fingertips came away wet.

Am I… crying?

Was it relief? The burden of guilt you’d carried since arriving in this world? Or was it the knowledge that, for all you had done to make amends, it still didn’t feel like enough? The answer eluded you, slipping through your grasp like sand.

The realization hit you like a wave. Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent and unchecked. Sliding down the wall, you sank to the floor, muffling the sobs that escaped you. You thought back to Jinwoo’s trembling hands, perhaps you cried for him, too, knowing what he had endured.

Red settled on the back of your hand, its tiny weight grounding you. You buried your face in your knees, muffling the sobs that broke free from your chest. It was a cry of relief, of release—something you hadn’t allowed yourself in what felt like an eternity.

Your butterflies hovered close, taking the tray from your hands so you could curl in on yourself, your body shaking with quiet, cathartic sobs. You didn’t care how long you stayed like that, the tears flowing freely, silent cries you hadn’t allowed yourself to release in years.

---

Morning came quietly, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the hospital windows. Jinwoo stood near the door, watching as Jinah and their mother reunion.

He observed the reunion in silence, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and melancholy. My efforts weren’t in vain, he thought. Everything I’ve been through… it was all leading to this moment.

But, even as he watched, a shadow loomed over his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the cold, creeping doubt that had taken root within him. While working as a Hunter, I wonder if I distanced myself too much.

His hands flexed at his sides, the faint traces of blood from past battles lingering in his mind. Did I cross too many lines to get here?

The happy scene before him felt distant, like a dream he couldn’t quite touch. Shadows crept at the edges of his mind, pulling him back into the cold.

And then, just as he felt himself sinking into that familiar darkness, warmth bloomed beside him. He felt your presence before he saw you, the faint brush of your hand against his breaking through the encroaching cold.

Your smile was soft, kind—so achingly familiar. You didn’t say anything, simply turned your gaze toward the room, watching the reunion with him. You didn’t intrude, didn’t try to fill the silence. You simply stood beside him, as you always had.

For Jinwoo, it was everything. You, who had seen him at his lowest, who had walked the same dangerous paths as him, never judged him for the blood on his hands or the lines he’d crossed. You, who seemed to care not about what he’d done, but how it had changed him, how it had hurt him.

Without thinking, he reached out, pulling you into his arms. His grip was firm, as though holding you tighter might anchor him to the present. His head rested against your shoulder, and for a moment, the cold shadows melted away.

Just as he had done back in the Demon Castle.

This time, however, you didn’t hesitate. Your arms wrapped around him, holding him just as firmly.

For a moment, the world fell away. There was no fear, no doubt, only the warmth and softness of your presence and the steady beat of your heart against his. In that small bubble of time, Jinwoo found solace.

---

Jinwoo adjusted his outfit, a rare nervous energy settling over him. The meeting with Chairman Go Gunhee was supposed to be straightforward, but your parting words echoed in his mind:

"Jinwoo, don’t play around too much and control yourself."

That tone—one part teasing, one part serious—struck a chord he couldn't ignore. It wasn’t just what you said, but how you said it, as though you knew what would happen. There was an odd certainty in your voice, one that left Jinwoo unsettled yet strangely comforted.

The old him, back when he knew nothing about you, might have found it unnerving. But now, after everything the two of you had been through together, he understood. It wasn’t about predicting the future. It was about your care for him, your worry hidden behind a faint smile and practical advice. That realization carried a weight that Jinwoo couldn’t quite put into words.

Still, the meeting didn’t go as planned.

Goto Ryuji’s challenge was like a lit match dropped into dry grass, and Jinwoo's pride wouldn’t let him walk away. He knew better than to take the bait, but the competitive spark in his eyes had flared before he could stop it. The fight ended quickly, but not without consequences. Baek Yoonho and Cha Hae-In had to intervene, their sharp words reminding him of the delicate balance they needed to maintain before the Jeju Island raid.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of their reproach as he muttered a low apology. Goto Ryuji’s bruised pride was none of Jinwoo's concern, but he felt a pang of guilt knowing you’d likely scold him later.

That’s when he felt the tickling sensation on his cheek.

His fingers brushed the spot absently, catching the faintest shimmer of red as one of your butterflies perched lightly on his hand. Its wings blurred faintly, their edges dissolving like mist—the unmistakable sign that it was in stealth mode, visible only to him.

Jinwoo let out a quiet sigh.

"I’m going to get another earful, aren’t I?" he murmured.

The butterfly’s wings opened and closed in a deliberate rhythm, as though pitying him, its silent agreement clear.

A tiny smile tugged at Jinwoo’s lips, but it didn’t last. The weight of his recent memories bore down on him, and unease gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

---

His mind flashed back to the Demon Castle raid, where the memory of your collapse haunted him.

You had been strong—always a step ahead of everyone else, calm and meticulous in a way that Jinwoo had come to rely on. But the sight of you fighting to stand, your skin pale and your movements sluggish, had shattered that illusion.

You weren’t invincible.

The marks that had marred your skin, black tendrils crawling like cracks in glass—how had he not noticed them before? He should have known something was wrong, especially with your insistence on wearing gloves even when there was no practical need for them. Yet, he had been blind, too caught up in his own plans to see the signs.

When the marks finally disappeared, seeping into your skin, he thought it was over. But you hadn’t woken up right away. Your disorientation, the way you vomited and struggled to focus—it had scared him in a way he hadn’t expected.

He had promised to protect you. Twice.

Once, to convince you to join him on the first raid of the Demon Castle. And again, when Avarice Vulcan had wounded you so badly that Jinwoo had nearly lost himself to rage. Both times, you had been the one to pull him back.

Now, looking back, Jinwoo felt like a fool.

He thought his newfound strength would be enough to shield those he cared about. But when it came to you, he started questioning the fact.

---

The days that followed were agonizing.

Every time he tried to reach you through your butterflies, their voices echoed in his mind:

"Our Mistress is currently unavailable."

Even visiting the flower shop, hoping to find a way into your garden, had been fruitless. Instead of you, Jinho had appeared, his surprise at Jinwoo’s arrival quickly giving way to concern.

Jinwoo had brushed off the younger man’s questions, but the unease in his chest grew heavier.

Where were you? Were you okay?

---

The day before the Jeju Island raid, Jinwoo found himself scrolling through the news on his phone, more out of habit than interest.

Most of the headlines were the same: public criticism over his decision not to join the raid, speculation about the mutant ants, and debates about the effectiveness of the Hunters’ Association. None of it bothered him. Let the media talk.

But then, one particular report caught his attention.

A small island in Japan had been attacked by one of the mutated ants. The carnage was devastating, with streets littered with bodies and buildings left in ruins.

Yet, amidst the devastation, there were survivors.

According to their accounts, they had been on the brink of death when something miraculous happened. In an instant, they were transported to safety, unharmed. Dashcam footage recovered from the scene revealed peculiar white flowers growing where the survivors had been.

Heather.

The flowers didn’t seem extraordinary at first glance, but there was something unusual about the way they had spread, blooming rapidly in places the ant seemed to avoid.

Jinwoo stared at the images on his phone, his heart skipping a beat.

"There was an urgent, huge international order for a particular batch of flowers I needed to sort myself. I just got back from an island in Japan."

Your words came rushing back to him. At the time, he had dismissed his suspicions, caught up in your anger and the tension between you. But now, the pieces clicked into place.

The flowers. The survivors. The butterflies captured fleetingly on the footage.

It was you.

Jinwoo’s lips curled into a faint smirk despite himself. His chest felt lighter, though the ache of missing you hadn’t disappeared.

"You really are something else."

---

"Miss, close your eyes and run. Do not turn back."

The voice cuts through the chaos, steady yet carrying a weight Jinwoo immediately recognizes. That voice, your voice, is enough to quell his rising tension. Relief floods through him, a warmth that borders on overwhelming—relief that he hadn’t realized he needed until now.

The victim’s trembling frame stiffens at your command. You step in, your presence commanding enough to make her feet obey before her mind catches up. Jinwoo hears the hurried footsteps fading into the distance, his sharp senses noting the rhythm of her steps—panicked but determined. The danger has passed for her, at least.

Jinwoo’s focus snaps back to the assailant. The man charges forward, but Jinwoo moves faster, his fists colliding with the attacker with precise force. He doesn’t waste energy. One hit to incapacitate, a shadow planted to ensure the man doesn’t escape. The shadow would finish the job if necessary. Cold efficiency, honed by countless battles.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Jinwoo finally allows himself to turn to you.

His breath catches.

No, he wasn’t mistaken. He couldn’t be.

Your aura—it feels... different. The subtle, carefully measured energy that you always kept tightly controlled is now more pronounced, an unmistakable hum in the air that seems to vibrate against his own shadow-infused power. He can feel it thrumming against his senses, and the realization hits him.

A power-up. You’ve gained something new. Something significant.

His eyes narrow slightly, scrutinizing you as you stand there, calm yet unreadable. The faint glow of your eyes catches his attention next—not the familiar, soft silver he’s accustomed to, but a warm, piercing gold. The aura surrounding you is tinged with the same hue, golden light almost blending with the misty outlines of your ever-present butterflies.

This isn’t just a small change.

Jinwoo’s thoughts race, trying to piece together what this means. A power-up of this magnitude only happens under extreme conditions. What had you been through? What had happened during your absence?

Almost as if you sense his spiraling thoughts, you tilt your head slightly, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

"I was going to talk with you," you begin, your voice calm and deliberate, "but while I was in the garden, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Your family is waiting for you, no? Let’s talk tomorrow, after you finish the system’s daily quest. At my shop."

Not your garden? That catches him off guard. You almost always prefer the sanctuary of your garden for private conversations.

Jinwoo’s brows furrow slightly. "What about Jinho?"

"He felt bad for practically staying for free, so he insisted on helping me. He’s taking care of a new batch of seeds I ordered from the outskirts. He’ll be gone for a while."

Your voice is as steady as ever, but Jinwoo detects a faint edge to it, something unspoken yet deliberate. He wants to press for more, to ask about the power radiating off you in waves, about the glow in your eyes, about your absence. But he hesitates.

Experience has taught him that patience works best with you. Rushing would only make you retreat further behind your carefully constructed walls.

So he nods.

Your smile, faint and fleeting, does something strange to him. His heart skips a beat—something that’s been happening far too often recently for him to ignore, though he still doesn’t understand why.

Then, as you always do, you vanish into a swarm of glowing butterflies. Golden, not silver. The warmth of your presence dissipates, leaving only the faintest trace behind.

Jinwoo’s hand twitches involuntarily, his fingers almost reaching out to grasp what’s left of the warmth. He clenches his fist instead, letting out a soft sigh.

He missed you. Far more than he should have.

---

A few days earlier…

The familiar hum of your garden surrounds you. The soft rustle of leaves, the gentle sway of blossoms in the breeze—it should calm you, yet your hands tremble slightly as you swipe to open the system notification.

It had been waiting for you since you woke up disoriented, the memories—or were they visions?—still haunting the edges of your mind.

The system screen materializes, the golden background and white letters brighter than usual, almost jubilant in their presence:

[Congratulations!

'Trial' Player (Name) has completed the requirements needed to ascend to the next stage.

Get stronger to earn the answers you seek of!]

You raise an eyebrow, your lips pressing into a thin line. “The answers I seek, huh?”

Was it talking about your isekai origins? The fragmented memories from the vision? Or... something else?

But one detail immediately catches your eye. The word “Trial.” Why is it suddenly quoted?

Before you can linger on that thought, another notification pops up:

[New updates have been given!]

Your eyes light up with curiosity, scrolling through the updates with growing excitement. Each new feature feels like a gift, one surprise after another. Around you, your butterflies flutter in sync with your mood, their translucent wings shimmering faintly in the light.

It’s almost enough to distract you from the unease lingering at the back of your mind.

A blinking white dot on the system’s mailbox pulls your attention. You tap it.

[Cumulative EXP has been counted.

Would you like to receive it now?]

You snort softly. “Why not? It’s probably not much since Jinwoo hogs all the rewards, but—”

You freeze.

“Oh,” you breathe, voice barely audible. Then louder, as panic sets in: “Oh no.”

Notifications flood your vision, back-to-back. They blur together, but the last one stands out:

[New Quest: Ascension, Part II is now available!]

The world tilts.

A wave of golden light surrounds you, the system’s presence overwhelming as it forces the changes upon you.

“Children,” you murmur, voice weak as vertigo takes hold, “be a dear, will you? Your mother’s going to pass out…”

The chorus of panicked voices from your butterflies echoes around you.

"My Lady/Mistress/Mother!"

Amid their frantic cries, the system chimes with a suspiciously cheerful tone:

[Stay strong, 'Trial' Player! :) ]

You groan, the edges of your vision darkening. "Oh, shut up, will you..."

The last thing you feel is the sensation of multiple hands—your butterflies’ manifestation—pillowing your fall before darkness claims you.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [23/11/2024] -

[0omillo0]

FELIX X READER ;༊๋࣭ fluff ; comfort

request from @jeonginsleftcheek (love your works btw tysm for the request ♡ )

a/n: HI GUYS IVE GOT MY TICKETS FOR THE DOMINATE TOUR IM SO EXCITED!!

It had been one of those days—the kind where the weight of everything felt unbearable, like the world had conspired against you. From the moment you woke up, nothing had gone right. Work was overwhelming, people were impatient, and even the smallest things seemed to fall apart in your hands. By the time you finally walked through the door to your apartment, the tears you had fought so hard to keep at bay spilled freely, slipping down your cheeks in silent streams.

You leaned heavily against the door, closing your eyes as the exhaustion overtook you. The quiet of your home was supposed to feel like relief, but tonight it only felt heavy, empty.

“Y/N?”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the sound of Felix’s familiar voice. You hadn’t even noticed him sitting on your couch, his long legs tucked under a throw blanket, a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. His soft brown eyes widened when he saw your face, his expression shifting from surprise to deep concern in an instant. He stood quickly, taking a tentative step toward you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” His voice was gentle but full of worry, the kind of tone that made you want to crumble entirely.

You quickly wiped at your tears, trying to pull yourself together. “Lix… Hey. I didn’t know you were here.” You tried to force a smile, but it wavered. “It’s nothing, really. I just… had a bad day.”

Felix’s brows knit together as he studied your face. “Nothing doesn’t make you cry like this.” He took another step closer, careful not to overwhelm you. “Come here,” he murmured softly, opening his arms.

You hesitated for only a second before collapsing into his embrace. Felix wrapped you up tightly, his arms firm and protective as he pulled you against his chest. His sweater smelled faintly of vanilla and something warm and earthy, and the familiarity of it made your tears flow harder. You buried your face in his shoulder, your sobs muffled against the soft fabric as he held you.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging in your heart. “I’m here. Let it out.”

And you did. You cried until your shoulders stopped shaking, until the ache in your chest started to feel a little less overwhelming. Felix didn’t let go, not once, his hands rubbing slow, calming circles on your back as he murmured quiet reassurances.

Eventually, when the tears had slowed to a stop, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the last traces of wetness. “Come sit down with me,” he said gently, guiding you to the couch.

He settled you beside him, tucking the blanket over your lap before draping his arm around your shoulders, keeping you close. You leaned into him, letting your head rest against his chest as his fingers absently played with the ends of your hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly after a moment.

You sighed, unsure where to even begin. “It was just… everything. Work was stressful, and people were rude, and I just felt… I don’t know. Like nothing I did today was good enough.”

Felix’s arm tightened around you slightly, a protective gesture. “Y/N… I hate that you had to deal with all that today. None of it’s fair. You’re so amazing—whether it’s at work or just… being you. And if other people can’t see that, that’s on them, not you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, a fresh wave of emotion rising in your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his presence soothe you.

“Thank you, Lix,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation, his tone so sincere it made your heart ache. “I’ll always be here for you.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the only sounds the soft hum of Felix’s breathing and the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. His hand moved to gently rub your arm, his touch feather-light but grounding. You felt yourself starting to relax for the first time all day, the tension slowly melting from your body as you sat wrapped in his warmth.

“You know,” Felix said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away from yours as if he were gathering his courage. When he looked back, his expression was soft, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your breath catch.

“Y/N… I don’t think I can keep this to myself anymore.” His voice was quieter now, almost nervous. “I care about you. A lot. More than just… as a friend.”

Your heart stopped, the words hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly. “What?” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Felix gave you a small, almost shy smile, his cheeks tinged pink. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for a while now, but I didn’t want to risk ruining what we have. But seeing you like this tonight… I realized I can’t keep it in anymore. You mean so much to me, and I just… I wanted you to know.”

You stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. And then, slowly, warmth bloomed in your chest, chasing away the heaviness that had lingered there all day. “Felix… I—” You paused, your lips curving into a soft smile. “I love you too.”

His eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening slightly as if he hadn’t dared to hope you would say those words back. And then, his face broke into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen, his expression radiant with relief and happiness.

“Really?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Really,” you confirmed, reaching up to gently cup his face. “How could I not? You’re… everything to me.”

Felix let out a breathy laugh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”

He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the world felt still—just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth. His thumb brushed over your cheek again, his touch as tender as ever.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N,” he murmured. “On your bad days, your good days, and everything in between. I promise.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink into your heart. For the first time that day, you felt truly at peace, safe in the arms of someone who loved you completely.

tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[mrtelevisionlover]

Can you do an angst Harry fic where he is in an established relationship but he is so busy with sidemen etc and she doesn’t feel like a priority or like the relationship is important for him and they have an argument maybe and she’s ready to leave and he has to fight for her to stay?

Hello, tysm for requesting! Low-key got a bit emotional writing this 😬

it's very angssty(?), hope you like it!

Stay

Today was Y/n and Harry’s five year anniversary. She had planned a lovely dinner at their favourite restaurant, then they would go for a walk, and then they would come home and snuggle up on the sofa. It’s perfect…Or it would be perfect if Harry looked at her messages. 

Over the past few months, Harry has barely been home–constantly filming videos in different countries, on set, etc–and when he is home, he’s always on his phone, or in his office. It feels like he’s purposely ignoring her, barely acknowledging her presence in their own shared home. 

Sometimes, when she’s alone in bed, she thinks he’s out cheating on her. It brings her to tears, knowing Harry is out looking as attractive as he is, mingling with girls in bars or parties. Ones she's never invited to because ‘she wouldn’t like it.’. She would actually really like it, she hasn’t been invited out for so long and she just wants to see her friends.

“Can I come?...”

“Nah, it’s a lads thing.”

A couple hours later, when she’s sick of the silence, she goes on Instagram to see selfies of Faith and Talia, even Sabina and Tennessee. Everyone was there. 

“Ma’am? If you're not going to order, you need to leave.” Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted when the waitress comes over for the umpteenth time.

“He’s just coming, I promise-”

“You’ve been here over an hour, if you don’t order in the next fifteen minutes, you’ll need to give up your table.”

“O-okay…Sorry.” Y/n swallows nervously, showing her a small smile.

Y/n watches the waitress walks away, laughing to her coworker, probably about the loser that’s been sat on her own for over an hour. She pulls out her phone and checks if Harry’s replied. She can see he’s online but her messages have been left on delivered.

She decided to send him another text, hoping that he’ll see it.

Another 10 minutes pass, and she can see the waitress looking over. She sends Harry a few more messages, her eyes start to water and she can feel that familiar lump forming in her throat

Y/n is suddenly pulled from her phone. “Okay, you need to leave.” The waitress starts clearing her table, not taking no for an answer.

“No-He’s coming, He wouldn’t do that-” Y/n tries to grab the cutlery from her hands as her voice wavers.

“He’s not coming, go home.” The waitress sighs.

She shakes her head, “He is-He is, he wouldn’t forget me. He loves me-It’s our fifth Anniversary, I-I think he might propose-” She cries.

She shoves her hands away. “Get out.”

“Please-” Y/n pleads, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Go!”

Y/n wipes her nose, looking around her favourite restaurant to see everyone staring at her. Her face flushes and she looks down. She quickly grabs her bag and phone, running out the door muttering sorrys as she goes. 

When she finally arrives at their shared apartment, she can hear the television blasting through the walls. She then opens the door to see Harry, drunk, lying on the sofa. He doesn’t even acknowledge her. 

She chokes out a sob, “I can’t do this anymore!”

“Do what?” Harry looks up from the TV. seeing her teary face sobers him up, slightly.

“Us! You-you don’t talk to me, or prioritize me. You don’t love me!” Y/n waves her hands about in frustration.

His eyebrows furrow. “That’s not true, of course I love y-”

“Then why don’t you say it!?”

“I don’t know, I forget!” Harry shrugs.

“You forget? You forget to tell your girlfriend you love her?”

“I have so much Important stuff going on right now-”

“And I’m not? Today was our fifth anniversary for goodness sake!” She presses her palms deep into her eyes.

He pauses, “...Was it?...”

“Yes!!” She cries. “I waited in that restaurant for an hour and a half, I made a fool of myself!”

“Sorry…”

“That’s all you’ve got? ‘Sorry’? Why don’t you answer my messages? Are they annoying?”

“Yes! Wait, no-”

“You’re mean…” She mutters.

“What?”

“I love you so much but you keep treating me like I’m some gum on your shoe. I can’t keep living like this-” Y/n rushes into the bedroom, grabbing the nearest bag she could find and starts throwing clothes into it.

“Where are you going!?” Harry rushes in front of her, holding her shoulders.

“Away.”

“You’re leaving?”

Y/n grins sarcastically. “Yes. We’re done. You’re free.”

“No don’t say that-I love you.”

“No you do-”

“I do, I do. I love you so much…The reason I was distant was because I was scared. I was scared of the commitment. Everyone is telling me to settle down a-and I freaked out because I do want to settle down…With you! But, I just wasn’t sure if I was ready” He takes a breath.”I was planning to propose, but I got scared, and I ghosted you…but, I’m not scared anymore. I love you so much and…” He gets on one knee, “Will you marry me?...”

“No!” She cries. “You can’t pretend you didn’t do what you did, you can’t just forget it-You-you-you just, you’re mean!”

Harry holds both her shoulders, trying to pull her into a hug “Hey-hey-!"

“No! I can’t do this right now-” Y/n pushes him away and reaches for her keys. She quickly opens the door, fleeing into the night, slamming the door in his face…

ignore any mistakes, its midnight!! 😅

[faux-ecrivain]

Yandere Darling

Yandere Darling x gn reader

(Eighteenth Official Post)

(This isn’t my best)

(Yan’s name is Amos)

Yan Darling that used to be kidnapped, that thought he would never escape.

Yan Darling who fought everyday to keep his Kidnapper from hiring him (regardless of how much they claimed they loved him).

Yan Darling that almost gives in after months and months of torture and mind breaking, who almost believes the Kidnapper when they say no one’s coming for him. (“Give up Amos, sweetheart, no one’s looking for you, no one wants you.”)

Yan Darling who cries tears of joy (and anguish) when you rescue him (completely by accident, you just wanted to rob the place).

Yan Darling who panics when you leave his side to talk to the police officer, he’s afraid that’ll he’ll get hurt again if you aren’t with him. 

He tugs on the back of your shirt, your turn your head to look at him and are met, briefly, with teary eyes, and pouty lips. “Please don’t go, I’m scared..” He mumbled, his eyes cast to the ground  and his hand clutching your shirt like a life line. You can’t help but feel the urge to protect him, to watch over him and it’s only because he reminds you of your little brother. “Alright, I’ll stay, but I’ll have to talk to the policemen eventually.”

Yan Darling who’s eyes light up when you tell him you’ll go with him, his heart pounds when you ride in the ambulance with him and then when you sit beside his bed he can’t help but cry again.

Yan Darling who cries even more when you try to sooth his cries, he apologizes over and over again. He feels so terrible crying in front of you like that, he shouldn’t do that, but he can’t help himself.

Yan Darling who starts giggling when you begin to panic over him, he giggles even more when your face contorts into confusion and you don’t know how to help him.

You were fussing over a crying Amos when he started to giggle, you didn’t know what was so funny and asking him didn’t help. He just kept giggling, then when your face shifted into confusion he began to full on laugh. (It was kind of creepy) He only stops when he starts coughing and his throat feels sore, it’s been a while since he laughed like that. Amos smiles when you hand him a glass of water, you’re so kind to him.

Yan Darling who pouts when you have to leave, no he doesn’t care if visiting hours are up, he just wants to spend time with you.

Yan Darling who makes you swear to come back tomorrow, or he’ll never talk to you again, and feels delighted when you agree.

Yan Darling who can’t wait for you to come back and when you do return, he greets you with open arms. 

Yan Darling who chats with for hours and hours, occasionally bursting into tears if you show him an inkling of kindness. Each moment spent with you is a moment he cherishes.

Yan Darling who looks forward to you visits and even dreams about visiting you.

Yan Darling who was upset when you didn’t come in on your usual days, then he got even more upset when his family visited instead of you. He doesn’t like his family, but they don’t seem to care.

Yan Darling who gives you the cold shoulder when you do eventually come visit, regardless of the reason you give him (or the apology).

“Amos, I’m really sorry, I just got caught up in work and by the time I got off visiting hours were over. (Actually you were in jail and just got bailed out)” You apologize again, trying to get his attention and you even go as far as to place your hand near his own hand. He takes notice of this and can feel his resolve crumbling, he really wants to hold your hand. “Hmph, liar, I bet you were just avoiding me!” 

He grumbles, his lips pulled into a cute pour and his eyes narrowed in a heated glares. “No, I wasn’t avoiding you. I could never avoid you, I care about you too much.” You smile softly and his resolve wavers, he gives into your kindness, and cautiously grabs hold of your hand. “Hm, fine, i guess I’ll forgive you, but don’t do it again!”

Yan Darling who is so excited when he’s finally released, now he can go over to your house and spend more time with you!

Yan Darling whose mood quickly drops when he’s released to his family and not you. He didn’t want to be with them, he wanted to be with you..

Yan Darling who gives his family the cold shoulder, no matter how much they try to care for him (he knows it’s all an act).

Yan Darling who begins to lash out when his family forbids him from visiting you. (“I’m not a child, mum! I can make my own decision and see my own people!”)

Yan Darling who runs away from his family and wonders around until he comes across you. Actually, you had saved him once more when he had been cornered by a group of thugs and almost beaten up. 

Yan Darling whose heart races when he sees you defending him, protecting him and his mind runs back to when you first rescued him. You care about him so much, you must love him.

Yan Darling who readily nods when you make a joke of being his bodyguards and following him 24/7. He gets so confused when you become concerned for him, did he say something wrong (yes, he said you should stalk him).

Yan Darling who begins to cry when you ask him why he’s out so late and so far from home, he reluctantly informs you of his troubles and is overjoyed when you invite him over.

Yan Darling who finds your house fascinating, it’s so lived in and it’s so.. you!

Yan Darling who eagerly listens to the tales you regale him with tales of your exploits and stories about your childhood. 

Yan Darling who gets upset when you compare him to your younger brother, he doesn’t want to be your brother! He wants to be your lover. 

He pouts and glares at you, he doesn’t want to be your brother. “I’m not your brother! I’m not related to you at all!” He gets so confused when you giggle at his response, he’s being very serious right now. Don’t laugh at him!

Yan Darling who pouts and tells you to take him seriously, he’s a person too! 

Yan Darling who becomes relieved once you reassure him that you do indeed view him as a person (and essentially a man).

Yan Darling who whines when you tell him it’s bed time, but relents once you promise to tuck him in and kiss him good night.

Yan Darling who gets all flustered when you do actually tuck him in and kiss him good night. Ah, you must really love him!

Yan Darling whose face is all red when you kiss him, he’s never felt this way before..

Yan Darling who struggles to fall asleep and can’t help but think about you, think about a future with you.

Yan Darling who gets angry when he thinks about the prospect of you leaving him or finding another to dote on. His little heart couldn’t handle having you leave him and it definitely couldn’t handle you loving another!

Yan Darling who catches himself before his mind wanders into dangerous territory, he shouldn’t feel this way, especially not after what he’s gone through. He doesn’t want to hurt you like he was hurt, he wants to love you.

Yan Darling who apologizes when he sees you in the morning, which of course confuses you. Why is he apologizing?

Tears stream down his face as he confesses his thoughts and begs for your forgiveness, meanwhile you’re still trying to process that weird dream you had last night and this situation doesn’t help. You put down you mug and try to reassure him, surely whatever he’s feeling is normal, and he shouldn’t feel so guilty over such thoughts. After all, he seems to have no intentions to make his dreams come true.

Yan Darling who feels so much better after you accept his apology, that’s so kind of you and after he’s caused you so much trouble. Oh, he just wants to hug!

You’re surprised when Amos entraps you in a hug, you didn’t expect this to happen. You awkwardly pat his back and then wait for him to quit hugging you. He’s seemingly oblivious to how uncomfortable his unexpected hug makes you, he seems to take your reluctance to respond as you being shy. He smiles and hugs you tighter.

Yan Darling who whines when you manage to escape his hold, he just wanted to share his love with you.

Yan Darling who almost throws a temper tantrum when you prevent him from hugging you again.

Yan Darling who’s only placated when you  offer him some warm food, although he’s sure to kick up a fuss if you don’t cuddle him later this afternoon.

Yan Darling who becomes overly clingy and affectionate throughout the passage of time, each moment around him is spent in his hold or with him hanging off your arm.

Yan Darling who’s scared you’ll leave him alone and does whatever it takes to keep you happy.

(you can probably tell, but I lost motivation halfway near the end, when I started this fanfic i was half asleep and had stayed up all night. So, it wasn’t the best and I apologize for that.)

(Also, you could expect another post later today, but don’t get your hopes up!)

[crybaby-bkg]

new dad Bakugou who’s going back to work full time almost a full year after his daughter his born and he now has to grapple with the fact that….goddamn, he’s spoiled the shit outta her.

well, he doesn’t think it was spoiling her. in actuality, he just created a routine with her, gave her every bit of his attention, held her when she cried, scolded her (yes just at eight months) whenever she’d babble for more puffs even though she’s had enough already. it wasn’t spoiling, it wasn’t. he vowed to never be that dad, to raise a snot nosed brat, one similar to himself.

but here he is, on a Tuesday morning three weeks after her first birthday. he’s standing halfway between the front door and the living room in full uniform, with his still sleepy baby and her even sleepier mama. she’s gripping his neck like he promised to abandon her, wailing and crying so loud and dramatically, that you can’t help but chuckle at her antics and how he wavers ever so slightly.

“You promised you’d go back to work,” you scold him gently, rubbing at your daughters quivering back when she whines again the moment he acts like he’s gonna pull her off. Bakugou frowns at you, and you shrug, smoothing her unruly blond curls away from her sticky forehead.

“But you guys need me.” He pouts, eyebrows downturned as he pulls her away enough to wipe at her wet face. she blubbers again, whimpering out a small dadaaaa noooo, that absolutely breaks his heart.

“And so does the world.” You smile at him, gently pulling your daughter away from the matching glassy red eyes who watch her go. “We’ll be fine, my love. Promise.”

Bakugou looks unconvinced, especially since your daughter reaches for him with another cry of his name. you don’t say anything when he sniffles discreetly, quickly reaching down to the coffee table to snatch up his utility belt that he dropped when she waddled out of her room in tears. he snaps it on wordlessly, and you go to turn to the kitchen when he wraps you both up in his arms.

“Love you,” he whispers against your forehead before pecking it, leaning down to kiss your lips next, and then your daughter’s fat little cheeks. He whispers another love you to her, and wipes away at her rosy cheeks when she pouts at him.

“Rub you.” your daughter pouts, the both of you freezing in shock.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, grinning. “She said I love you back!” Bakugou matches your grin, laughing under his breath as he presses another torrent of kisses all of her face. for the first time since she’s opened her eyes today, she laughs, loud and joyous and familiar. he thinks that maybe going back in today won’t be so bad after all. not if this is what he’ll be coming home to.

[imtryingbuck]

Divorce Came With A Price

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: it’s been 6 months since he last saw you.

Word count: 1295

Warnings: Angst, I’m sorry. Death, cancer, suicide – please don’t read if the warnings upset you.

A/N: my mum cried when she read this.

Masterlist

Part 1

It’s been 6 months since Bucky last saw you, he’s hated it. He misses you. He misses your beautiful face, the way your smile makes his heart tingle. Misses the way your eyes shines brightly when you’re talking about your hobbies and interests. Misses the feel of your soft skin under his calloused hands. He just misses the love of his life, his other half - his sweet perfect wife. 

He remembers how your smile dropped as he tells you he wanted a divorce. Remembers the heartbreakingly look in your eyes as he told he’d been having an affair. That one look has haunted his dreams, his every waking moment. He can still feel the acid in his throat as he wills himself to nod as you ask that one question. Nothing more nothing less. You just wanted that one question to be answered and he couldn’t even look at you let alone answer verbally. He didn’t even know you left the house until the divorce hearing; he watched you walk away with Matt and Foggy wishing he could say something but nothing comes out. He watched as your feet falter when you see Carly. He knows exactly what you’re thinking.

But It’s over now.

It’s over now and he can get you back.

It’s over now and he’s hoping and praying that you’ll understand and forgive him.

It’s over now and he’s going to move heaven and earth to have his love back in his arms.

He finds out you’ve been staying with Matt since he broke both of your hearts. How does he do this? How does he knock on the door hoping that neither one of you punches him in the face (not that he doesn’t deserve it) he just hopes you’ll listen to him.

Bucky walks into the florist to get the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers he can get. 

The skies start to turn dark even with the sun shining brightly, if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was forewarning for what’s to come.

Knocking on the wooden door it’s Matt that greats him. “What? What are you doing here” if Bucky wasn’t a super soldier he’d be scared with the tone in Matts voice.

“I-um I need to see Y-Y/N. Please”

“She’s not here. She’s not here anymore” Bucky can’t understand why Matt sounds broken.

“Well um where does she live now?” He’s trying not to stumble off his words.

“No James you don’t understand” Matt looks up towards the ceiling then continues but doesn’t get the chance.

“What do you mean I don’t understand? Matt look I know you hate me for what I did to Y/N but I had a reason, I just need to see her to explain it to her. Please Matt just tell me where she lives”. He begging and pleading and it’s clear as day in the way his voice wavers.

Matt speaks in a fast manner “Get inside before Ms Jenson comes out and complains” 

The apartments a mess, there’s takeaway boxes laying around, the sinks full of pots and there’s trash overflowing in the bin. The apartment looks nothing like it did 8 months prior when Y/N and himself went round for a double date with Matt and some woman he can’t remember the name of. Matt sits down and lazily waves his arm round for Bucky to sit to.

“Matt wher-“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“James she’s gone, she’s dead.” The air is cut off. The room is spinning. His world has ended. He doesn’t know what to do or say so he stares blankly at Matt waiting for the punchline of a joke that isn’t even remotely funny. Matt understands he needs to say more so he does. “That day you told her you wanted a divorce to be with your side piece she’d been at the hospital for her results. It was cancer. Terminal. She’d been told she had about 6 months to a year left. Her insurance didn’t cover her medical expenses so she stopped treatment, I told her I would pay but you know what she’s like-was like. 3 weeks ago she made me go out on a date with Karen she said she’d be fine and made me promise I’d have a good time. I got home around 11 and went to bed. The next morning, I couldn’t hear her walking around, so I went into her room, she um she’d taken pills, enough to end her life. It was too late to do anything, they said she’d been gone for 18 hours. Id only been gone for an hour” tears stream down both of the men’s faces. Matt struggles to continues “she begged me not to say anything to you, she didn’t want to get in the way of your relationship. She thought if you knew you’d change your mind and not divorce her just because she was dying. Y/N begged me James so I couldn’t I couldn’t do that to her-“ Bucky cuts him off. 

“I didn’t have an affair. I swear. Hydra was after me again and I had to divorce Y/N so she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her I had an affair so she would divorce me, I knew cheating was a deal breaker so I lied. I fucking lied and she’s dead. I lied and she’s not even going to know the truth.” He tries so hard to continue but can’t his airway is closing up. He passes out.

10 years have been and gone, the pain of losing the only person he has ever loved didn’t stop not that he wants it to. Bucky wants to remember the pain. 

In the 10 years that have passed he’s visits your grave every Friday, wedding anniversary, the date you two got together, the date he proposed, your birthday and on Christmas. After the fifth year Steve told him he needed to move on, and well long story short they had a fight and Bucky cried saying he couldn’t move on. In the end everyone around him understood that he would never move on from the love of his life. He sits there no matter the weather and talks to you for hours. He told you Matt and Karen were having a baby girl, then told you they named her after you. Told you all about his cat Alpine. After every visit without fail or another thought he tells you he loves you and can’t wait to see you again.

It’s been 10 years 5 months 12 days since you passed away and Bucky’s on his way to see you.

He’s on a mission that’s gone horribly wrong he’s been shot too many times. He’s so tired and Steve’s trying to get him to stay awake but it’s no use.

“Stevie p-please stop. I w-wan-t to be w-ith my Y-Y/N I need to be with h-er” Even though Bucky gasps for breaths his voice is strong enough to let Steve and the team know that this is what he wants. Steve gives him a slow nod with tears sliding down his cheeks, he clasps hands with his best friend and keeps locked tight long after Bucky takes his last breath.

He leaves the world with a smile on his face.

You stand there waiting for him and as soon as you lock eyes with him you’re running. Jumping into his arms and before he can say anything you kiss him. Hard. After you separate you tell him you know the truth. You heard him every time he would visit your grave. You tell each other how much you love one another. You take his hand and lead him into your new life.

Tags: @learisa @bruher @pattiemac1 @kentokaze @almosttoopizza @yvessaintmuerte

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[dark-frosted-heart]

Tailor-made Love Story - Keith Howell Part 1/4

This is so late lol. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

I had fallen asleep while holding my beloved in my arms—

The soft light shining on my eyes through the window had shifted from moonlight to sunlight.

(Morning already? But it’s too early to get up)

(I want some more time with Emma…)

When I reached out for Emma, I felt her stir and snuggle closer.

Imagining the sight, I took her hand in my half-conscious state. However, something felt off about the warmth against my fingertips.

Keith: …Hm?

(Why does Emma’s hand feel so small…?)

(It doesn’t fit well in mine)

After checking her hand, I stroked her hair. I was about to move toward the back of her neck, but drew my hand back.

Keith: Wha…what the…

Girl: Hm…

(Why is there a child here…?!)

The figure stirring in bed wasn’t Emma, but a little girl I didn’t recognize.

I jumped away and the girl stayed curled up on the shaking bed.

(...Did “he” bring her here? But I’d remember…)

(I committed an outrageous crime without even noticing…)

(But where’s Emma?)

After calming down, I took a look at the girl and noticed that she was wearing an oversized nightgown that was similar to Emma’s.

(That innocent look on her face when she sleeps is like Emma’s)

(Looking closer…her hair and beauty marks are similar too)

(Could this child…now way)

While I kept repeating the question in my head, the girl’s long lashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes.

Keith: !

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, which widened when our gazes met. 

Girl: …Who are you, big brother?

(She looks lost and confused)

(I don’t want to scare her)

I kneeled by the bed and gave her a smile.

Keith: Nice to meet you. I am Keith Howell.

Girl: Big brother…Keith.

(Big brother, huh)

(It’s nice hearing it without any formality*)

As we stared at each other, the eyes that were the same color as Emma’s wavered with unease.

Child: …Where am I?

(Ah, she’ going to cry)

(I don’t want to scare her…)

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. When I reached out to her, the girl started.

Keith: I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I promise I won’t hurt you, so may I wipe your tears?

Girl: …

The girl who was holding her hands close to her chest nodded and I gently wiped her tears away with a finger.

Keith: It’s alright. Come here.

Girl: …Okay.

The small body I picked up to show warmth was tense.

(In times like these…)

I patted her back while she clung to my neck.

While I rocked her from side to side, I felt her relax.

(No matter how hard they cried, I always got Tio and Mireille to stop crying like this)

(It takes me back)

Keith: By the way, what’s your name?

Girl: Emma.

Keith: ! …That’s a lovely name.

(Not only do they look alike, but they have the same name too…)

Emma: Is something wrong?

When Emma tilted her head, her nightgown started to slip off her tiny shoulder.

I rushed to put it back in place and set her back down on the bed.

Keith: First, let’s get you dressed and then we’ll have breakfast…

Liam: Pardon the intrusion, Prince Keith.

Keith: Ah.

Liam: Huh…?

Upon entering the room, Liam’s eyes widened when he saw the girl.

Liam: I’m assuming this is “his” fault?

I shook my head sympathetically at my butler when he went pale and explained what happened when I woke up.

Liam: It sounds like she’s lost. However, the more I look at her, the more she reminds me of Lady Emma.

Keith: I was thinking the same. It’s like I’m meeting a little Emma.

Emma tilted her head and it looked like she had a hard time moving in her oversized nightgown.

Keith: Liam, get some clothes that’ll fit this girl.

Liam: Understood.

(In the meantime, we’ll have to discuss the next steps)

Keith: I’m going to have a chat with him. I’ll be back.

When I got up from the bed, Emma grabbed my thigh.

Emma: …I don’t wanna be alone.

My heart ached when I saw her trembling as she clung to me.

(Leaving her alone when she’s scared isn’t a good idea, is it?)

Keith: I’m sorry. I won’t leave you by yourself.

The moment I said that, I lifted her up and her thin arms wrapped around my neck.

(I’m the only one Emma can rely on. I need to protect her so that she doesn’t get scared)

--

After breakfast—

When I entered the meeting room with freshly changed Emma in my arms, the nobles gathered looked at me in shock.

(I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring her to the meeting, but I promised that I wouldn’t leave her alone)

(The meeting’s not so important that it’d be awkward to be asked about it, so I hope they can forgive me today…)

Noble: Prince Keith, that girl…

Keith: She’s the child of an acquaintance.

After giving my excuse, Emma motioned for me to set her down—

*Referring to the fact that Keith’s used to being called nii-sama/onii-sama while child!Emma uses onii-chan. Also, Keith calls her Emma-chan.

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Cry'n

Joel Miller x reader

Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Shout out to the girlies in the Whorefully yours discord for encouraging my dark side lol

Summary: Joel kidnapps you, but can't even wait long eough to put his dick inside you to cum. (Reader is rather Little One coded but this is a completetly separate fic from The Wrong Way)

Warnings and Content: NON CON, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!!!!! Hair pulling, kidnapping, masturbation, cumming on face, dirty and degrading talk, crying, dacryphilia, Joel is really psycho in this, maybe a lil off his rocker. Implied future abuse. Literally like so much crying.

DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ! If you do not wish to see rape on your feeds at all, i suggest blocking the tags such as non con, dddne, dead dove do not eat, and depending on preferences maybe dub con, yandere, or dark fics. No judgement if its not your thing!

*****************

Your head hurts. So bad. That was all you could think about as Joel dragged you off his house and up the porch by your hair with no regard for how you were supposed to keep up with his long stride. Scalp on fire, you scramble to stand but it seemed he would purposefully yank at you just to make you stumble. 

You can hear him smiling as he speaks, the outline of his cheeks giving away the wide grin if you can look up long enough to catch a glimpse. “Pretty fucking girl. Gonna make such a nice little toy.” 

He doesn’t care that you're crying. He doesn’t care that he took you away from everything you know. He doesn’t care that you are scared. He wants to use you.

Your hands are tied behind your back so you fall on your face when he trusts you onto the shitty mattress, dirt being inhaled into your lungs.

“Just gotta be good for a few days, pretty baby, ‘till I get tired of you and move onto the next shiny thing. Think you can manage that?”

Sobbing, you nod. You can do this. You can…

Your confidence wavers as he stands above you, palming himself and moaning. “Oooohhh fuck, such a pretty little baby, uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhuhuhuuuh” Joel sucks his breath in through his teeth, then shutters it out. “Get the fuck over here.” Joel reaches over and yanks on your hair again, pressing your face up against his jeans-clothes crotch. His musk was strong, the smell of his dick was sweaty and masculine and you could not help but feel just a little turned on. You couldn’t help it; it was biological, primal, evolutionary. 

With your hands still tied behind your back, you were helpless to the way Joel ground your face up against himself, his hard cock prominent despite the stiff material. Fingers entangled in your hair, Joel trust his hips up in your face as you sob, “Fuck baby, keep cry’n, I can feel your tears on my dick.” Joel pressed you tightly up against his crotch, your mouth pressed over the outline of his member and muffled your cries as they turned into attempts to scream. You wanted to bite but you knew better.

When he finally let go, allowing you to sit back on your haunches and breath, Joel unzipped his pants and thrust them and his tighty whitey’s down in one go, his massive cock hanging heavy between his legs. A sick man, Joel gripped your face in his large, rough hands to gather up the wetness before he fucked his fist. 

“God, I need to cum right fuck’n now” He grumbled to himself as he furiously pumped the extensive length. “Ain’t got time to- oh fu-u-u-ck, ain’t got time to fight your pants off.” Joel lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips as his breath shutters before looking down at your crying and shaking figure. “Oh fuck, you look so scared!” He has the audacity to chuckle, smiling at you as he gently nudges you with his boot just to see you cry more. He jerked harder and harder, his cock red and throbbing inches from your face. “There we go, fuuuuuck! Uh, uh, uuuhhhggg” Ropes of white began to spurt out of him, Joel grunting aggressively mixed with huffed out chuckles, a wide, joker-like grin on his face as his eyes sparkled with mischievous possibilities for the future.

Joel took his softening dick and wiped your tears and his cum with it. “Pretty little thing… goddamn… make’n me cum without even touching me, fucking fantastic.” 

You feel the wetness on your face, a mixture of fluids painting you up like a picture. 

Joel pushed you down onto the bed, not even bothering to pull up his pants as he pulled you on his naked body, sighing. He takes a knife out of his pocket, however, and cuts off your ties. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him as you cry. You just wanted to be held, to feel touch and comfort and you didn’t care who it came from. “Oh god, princess…” He’s panting still, a crazy grin plastered upon his face as he stared up at the ceiling, laughing to himself. “Such pretty skin, such a pretty face…” Joel chuckled, long fingers massaging down your still-clothed body. 

“Gonna be a lot of fun playing with it.”

*******************

First dark! joel one shot ina while, woozers.

Love me my crazy man.

Got a cool ask today for a dark triple frontier Will Miller that I loooooove that I will be working on after a few other WIPS.

Also got an idea for a dark!joel sugar daddy yandere vibes fic, a dark!William Tell, and a dark!Nathan Bateman. I also plan to work on a short series (3 parts maybe?) of a darker ending to tww where Joel wins.

If you like this, click the link at the top to be added to my ongoing tag list!

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@hereforthepedrofanfic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and maybe @toxicanonymity might enjoy.....

[reomikagekin]

Maybe alnst characters w/ a reader who self harms (IF THIS ISNT SOMETHING YOUD DO IM REALLY SORRY AND YOU CAN JUST IGNORE IT!!)

Ofc i can do one hehe! You didn't specify which characters so I just did all of them if you wanna ask for specific characters js my check my pinned post😌 and keep the requests coming hehe

Some tw?: self harm mention

Starlight in the Dark

You thought you were good at hiding it.

The long sleeves, the careful positioning of your wrists, the smiles you forced when the cameras were on. In a competition where every move was scrutinized, you had mastered the art of deflection. But some people are too perceptive for their own good.

Ivan

He notices first. Not because you told him—he just pays too much attention. At first, it’s subtle: he watches you a little too closely, lingers when you adjust your sleeves. Then, one night, he corners you backstage, his usual smile in place but his eyes unreadable.

"Why do you do it?" His voice is unsettlingly soft. You freeze. "It’s not fair," he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your wrist, "if you want attention, you should just ask for mine."

Ivan isn’t gentle in his approach. His obsession with you makes his concern overwhelming, suffocating. He offers solutions in the way he knows best—giving you all of him, demanding all of you in return. If he can be the reason you stop, he’ll take it.

Till

Till is different. He’s the one who doesn’t force you to talk, doesn’t pressure you to explain. When he notices the fading scars, the too-tight grip on your sleeve, his response is quiet.

"It must hurt a lot," he says one evening, hesitant but genuine.

You expect pity, but there’s none. Just understanding. He won’t pry, won’t push, but he stays. His presence alone is comforting—like a steady heartbeat in the chaos of the competition.

Mizi

Mizi cries when she finds out. Not in front of you, but later, when she thinks you’re not looking. She’s too honest, too open to hide the way it breaks her heart.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Her voice wavers, and her hands tremble when she takes yours.

She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know how to fix this. But she wants to, more than anything. From then on, she holds your hand tighter, smiles brighter, as if sheer willpower alone can replace the pain you carry.

Sua

Sua doesn’t say anything when she sees the scars. No gasps, no lectures, no pity-filled glances.

Instead, she sits beside you and starts talking about nothing—the competition, the lights, the way the audience stares at her when she’s on stage.

"It’s funny," she says idly, "how people never really see what’s right in front of them."

There’s an unspoken understanding. She won’t force you to stop, won’t tell you what you should do. But she’ll be here. Always.

Hyuna

Hyuna is heartbroken. She’s affectionate by nature, but now? Now she refuses to leave your side.

"You’re not going anywhere alone anymore, got it?" she declares, pouting.

She clings to you—grabbing your wrist (gently, always gently), throwing an arm around your shoulder, demanding your attention in the most Hyuna way possible.

"You’re my favorite person," she says with all the sincerity in the world. "And I don’t like seeing my favorite person sad."

Luka

Luka is the one who doesn’t bring it up directly.

Instead, he subtly alters his performances, choosing songs that speak to pain, to survival, to resilience. It’s deliberate, just like everything he does.

"You’re stronger than you think," he murmurs after one such performance.

His words aren’t meant to soothe—they’re a challenge. A dare. And somehow, that helps.

Dewey & Isaac

They’re softer with you after they find out. Dewey still teases, still grins, but it’s less sharp, more careful.

"You know," he says casually, tossing a snack at you, "if you need a distraction, we could always cause some chaos."

Isaac, meanwhile, doesn’t joke about it. He just stays close—offering an easy presence, a quiet sort of support that doesn’t need words.

Hyunwoo

Hyunwoo is the one who outright tells you that you deserve better.

"You don’t have to do this alone," he says, voice steady, gaze warm.

He doesn’t try to stop you—he just makes sure you know that he’s there. That he’ll always be there.

They all react differently.

Some with softness, some with intensity, some with quiet understanding. But one thing is clear:

You are not alone. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to keep going.

Hehe credits for the divider: @vastpostin

If you're currently struggling with self harm, you are not alone!! You're so strong and I believe in you. Get some help from other people so you don't feel alone.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

robin's egg blue

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: Tim's mom finds out who Batman is and stops Tim from becoming Robin in this AU.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Janet Drake, Jack Drake, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Cassie Sandsmark, Helena Sandsmark, Diana Prince

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Janet Drake Lives, Jack and Janet Drake Get Divorced, Civilian Tim Drake, Tim Drake is Not Adopted, Tim Drake is Not an Only Child, Janet Drake-centric, Tim Drake Does Not Become Robin

Chapter Two: the end

They sat at the dinner table for their first family dinner in what felt like years. Janet poured apple juice into Tim’s cup before kissing his temple. Jack cut his steak into little bite-sized pieces while Tim made Janet’s plate. “Oh, Tim, you don’t have—.” 

“I want to,” Tim interrupted as he served her. Janet smiled and sat between Jack and Tim. Jack dug in while Tim made his plate and Janet poured a glass of wine for herself. 

He held up his empty glass, and she poured wine into it before announcing, “Your father and I wanted to discuss something with you.” 

Tim dropped his fork and took a sip of his juice. Jack was so engrossed in his meal that he didn’t hear his cue to speak. Janet’s jaw tightened as she nudged him. “Oh, um… This steak was cooked to perfection. Isn’t that right, Tim?” Jack asked. 

“Jack… Our discussion,” Janet emphasized through her teeth. 

“Oh! Tim, your mom and I were thinking about spending more time with you… And we wanted to know if you’d consider traveling with us,” Jack explained. Janet paused, waiting for Jack to keep speaking. 

“Or… We could stay home more,” Janet added. 

“We didn’t discuss that, Janet,” Jack whispered. Janet’s jaw jutted to the left as she realized Jack had no intention to stop traveling for work. Tim opened his mouth to speak, but a rapidly escalating argument cut him off. Tim tried to look down at his plate as he stuffed his face to ignore his pounding heartbeat. He hated it when his parents fought, but they usually tried to argue in the privacy of their bedroom. And they never argued about him before.  

The argument burned out of control like a forest fire until Janet said the one thing she couldn’t take back. “This is why I want a divorce!” Janet shouted. Tim couldn’t stomach it anymore. He pushed away from the table and rushed to the guest bathroom to throw up. Jack stood up and wavered as the wine took effect, and Janet rushed past Jack to check on Tim. 

“Tim? Can I come in?” Janet asked. Tim didn’t answer. “Make noise if you want me to stay outside.” Silence. 

She opened the door just wide enough to slide inside, and she sat on the floor beside him. He couldn’t stop shaking as he hunched over the toilet. Janet hesitated before rubbing his back, expecting him to flinch away or snap at her. Instead, he burst into tears. “Oh, Timmy… Sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said that. I meant it, but I shouldn’t have said it like that,” Janet whispered. Tim cried into the toilet bowl until Janet pulled him into her arms. “I know… I know, but it’s been a long time coming. It wasn’t your fault. You’re a good boy.” Janet held him close as she kissed his temple. 

“But you said it because—.” 

“I said it because it should’ve been said months ago… Maybe even years,” Janet interrupted, “I love you so so much. Your dad loves you too. He has his own way of showing it… But don’t ever doubt that we love you.” 

**

Janet stepped out of the shower, and Jack leaned forward in his chair, holding his head in his hands. “Janet…”

“What do you want me to say, Jack? Do you want me to lie to you? Say I didn’t mean it? Do you wanna pretend it doesn’t repulse you to sleep in the same bed with me?” Janet asked.

Jack sat up and pointed his finger at her. “Don’t you act like you weren’t acting like a twenty-year-old kid on spring break when we were in Liguria. Let’s go to the club, Jack. We were just dancing, Jack—. ”

“Jack, that was two years ago. I was right in front of you the entire time. I was drunk and nothing happened. You were looking right at me the entire time,” Janet whispered, “Is your ego really that fragile? You can’t handle the idea that I had fun dancing with a friend of mine—.” 

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you want to fall in love with me again. You didn’t want to rekindle this marriage, you were afraid—.”

“Stop,” Janet’s voice broke as she whispered it. Tears welled up in her eyes. 

“You’re afraid of who you are without me,” Jack replied. 

Janet sucked in a breath and shook her head. “And you aren’t? Aren’t you scared? We’ve been in this for seventeen years! We have a son! Everything is going to change… Everything. If I thought for a second that this could work—. When were you gonna talk to Tim? I held him tonight. He cried in my arms over this. If I could fall madly in love with you again and you with me, if I could watch Tim grow up if I could make everything fit into place—. Do you even want to be a father, Jack? You haven’t once given any consideration to Tim’s feelings,” Janet replied as she walked past him. She grabbed her pillow. 

“Where are you going?” Jack asked. 

“Guest bedroom… After I tell Tim that we love him because I’m tired of fighting,” Janet muttered. Jack sighed, letting Janet leave the bedroom.

Janet ran into Tim in the hallway, and he rubbed his arm. “Mom,” Tim whispered. Janet smiled at him.

“It’s okay, sweetie. We’re not gonna argue anymore. I was just about to say goodnight,” Janet whispered as she held back tears. Tim forced a smile and nodded. “I’m done traveling, Tim… I mean it. We love you so much.” 

“Mom… What’s gonna happen?” Tim questioned. Janet sighed and shook her head. 

“I don’t know,” Janet replied, “I think we could finally leave Gotham once this year is over… And I didn’t forget what I promised you.” She tapped Tim’s nose. 

“Are you going by yourself?” Tim questioned. Janet smoothed Tim’s hair down and leaned forward to look him in the eye. 

“It’s gonna be fine. I promise I won’t yell at him,” Janet replied. 

Tim grabbed her arm. “No, that’s not what I—. Maybe we should talk about a few things before you go,” Tim suggested. Janet yawned and nodded. 

“Okay… Sure, let’s sit in the guest room and talk… Oh, and before I forget, we need to deep clean your room tomorrow after school. Tim, I love you sweetheart, but your room is just ridiculous. What’s going on in there?” Janet chuckled. Tim rubbed his neck. 

“I’ve been a little busy lately,” Tim whispered. Janet laughed and let Tim into the guest bedroom before she climbed into bed and turned the TV on. 

Tim sat beside her, watching the TV while Janet stared at him. “You were so alert as a baby… Always observing… And so quiet. No one could make you laugh except for your dad. He once told me that you made him feel special. I think we were all at our happiest back then,” Janet whispered, “I never wanted kids before I had you… And I don’t know… Something shifted when I was pregnant with you. All I could think about was what it would feel like to hold you in my arms. Your birth was probably the closest I’ve ever gotten to a spiritual experience. It was frightening and painful, and I wanted to die… And all of a sudden, you were there and in my arms, and I knew I’d never accomplish anything greater than you in my life.” Janet sighed. 

“I’m sorry—.”

“Don’t be. I’m so proud of you… But you’re so selfless and driven that it frightens me a little bit. So, I want you to tell me more about this Batman business,” Janet whispered. Tim took a deep breath and nodded before telling her everything from the very beginning.