#everyone give love to bar. a wonderful soul

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here. 

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in. 

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful. 

Eric remembered that. 

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name. 

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares. 

Shit, were you supposed to say something? 

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face. 

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. 

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it. 

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.” 

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets. 

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder. 

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head. 

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled. 

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room. 

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes. 

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better. 

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his. 

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.” 

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you. 

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours. 

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit. 

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot. 

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. 

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm. 

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left. 

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass. 

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.” 

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck. 

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.” 

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days. 

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big. 

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?” 

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.” 

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul. 

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.” 

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak. 

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down. 

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself. 

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.” 

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

[edenesth]

The General's Wife

Pairing: military general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

Word Count: 1117 words (I'd normally put it as 1.1k but uwu)

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Ooh, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

You sighed, wondering when these men would ever learn. It wasn't your first time paying this bar a visit; they should know better by now to not mess with you.

Pushing your drink aside, you turned to look at the brave soul who was stupid enough to put his hand on your shoulder. He smirked when you remained quiet, "You're a shy one, aren't you? No worries, I can make things more fun for you."

The men around him were muttering fearfully amongst themselves, wide-eyed, "Does that fool really not have a single clue who he's dealing with?"

You shrugged off his hand and felt sorry for him, "Oh dear, I pity you." Confused, he followed your gaze as you showed him an emblem you'd pulled out from your pocket. His heart nearly stopped when he finally realised who you were.

"Y-you're... shit, you're the general's wife."

You winced, realising those might be his last words, especially when you saw your husband walking into the bar.

Seonghwa halted just behind the man, fixing an intense glare on his vulnerable back. In a voice that sent shivers down spines, he growled, "Have you grown tired of living, soldier? If you're looking for dumb ways to die, consider today your lucky day."

The man visibly trembled as he turned around slowly to face his superior, falling to his knees in fear, "G-General Park! I swear, I d-didn't know she was your wife—"

A resounding smack cut off his sentence as a powerful backhand slap connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

You gave a subtle shake of your head, silently urging Seonghwa not to escalate the situation. However, your plea proved futile as your husband, with a wink in your direction, assured you, "Don't worry, my love. I won't be too harsh on him. I'll give him just enough punishment to ensure he understands never to lay a hand on my wife again."

Despite his comforting words, you knew better than anyone those were lies. The man probably wouldn't see the light of day again. Beneath the sweet exterior he reserved for you, your husband harboured a ruthless side, a quality that propelled him quickly up the military ranks, earning him a formidable reputation.

Before becoming your husband, General Park Seonghwa was a fearsome military commander, striking fear into almost everyone. Uninterested in academics or any other pursuit, he was a natural-born warrior. At the mere age of 12, he knew he was destined to be the god of war.

However, amidst the battlefield and bloodshed, there was one thing he treasured above all else – you. His first and only love; he stumbled upon you in your backyard, clandestinely wielding your brother's sword in an attempt to learn self-defence when no one else would teach you. A noble lady yearning for more than a mundane life.

At first glance, he knew you were special.

Seonghwa vowed to make you his wife someday, and he did. Not one to follow rules, he sneaked into your backyard one day, scaring the daylights out of you. With sharp critiques, he pointed out the flaws in your stance, inadvertently teaching you enough to defend yourself.

In short, love blossomed before you discovered that he was none other than the renowned General Park, the King's most trusted warrior leading the royal army. When he sought your hand in marriage, your parents were more than delighted to see their only daughter assume the esteemed title of the general's wife.

Due to Seonghwa's crucial role in the kingdom, he frequently found himself deployed to battle whenever political tensions arose between Wonderland and neighbouring nations.

Despite his repeated warnings, you always made the journey to his war sites to be with him. During your visits, much like the current one, many of his inexperienced men, unaware of the situation, would mistake you for a lost civilian in a war zone and foolishly attempt to make advances.

Now, this unfortunate man, like those before him, would meet his end before having the chance to serve his country—all because he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

You were escorted out of the dimly lit bar before you could witness what your husband's right-hand man did to the poor bastard. Whatever it was, you knew it would be far from pretty. To distract you from the unsettling thoughts, Seonghwa wrapped his arm around you and kissed you hard.

Pressing a hand against his chest, your attempts to push him away were useless. He was well aware of your shyness, with his men watching and all, but that was his intention. He needed these fools to understand that you were his woman.

Sensing your discomfort, your husband gently cupped your cheeks, pulling back slightly to assure you, "It's alright, darling. I'm here. No one will dare touch you again. You trust me, don't you?" Without hesitation, you nodded; there was no one in the world you trusted more than him.

His heart melted at how swollen your lips looked, and he couldn't resist pressing his lips softly against yours once more.

With a self-assured smirk, he withdrew slowly, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He turned to cast a cold gaze at the men who instantly cowered under his scrutiny, "What are you imbeciles standing around for? Don't you recognise who this is?"

They gasped and immediately straightened up, bowing deeply before offering salutes in your direction, "Welcome to the base, Lady Park!"

You acknowledged their greeting with a nod, and with an elegant wave of your hand, they finally dared to disperse. It was an unspoken rule that everyone under your husband's command had no choice but to follow. Those who defied these rules deserved nothing less than severe consequences.

As you nestled into Seonghwa's temporary quarters that night, a comforting warmth enveloped your heart as he drew you close in bed. Planting a tender kiss on your head, he asked, "My love, do you ever regret marrying me?"

Given your dislike for violence, it was truly ironic that you found yourself wed to a military general, of all people. He often wondered how a refined lady like you could fall for a man of his rough demeanour.

Before his thoughts could linger, you gently cupped his jaw, compelling him to meet your gaze, "Never. I want no one else but you." The intensity in your eyes conveyed a steadfast conviction, reminding him you were different from other women.

Indeed, you were special.

After all, you were the only woman audacious enough to capture the intimidating General Park Seonghwa's heart.

Would you believe me if I told you this man isn't my ultimate bias? Yeah, me neither. He wrecked me so bad this comeback, I'm barely recovering. Y'all stay safe tho lmfao.

Anyway, thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[samalong1]

Songbird Hannibal x Operareader

Yandere hannibal tw obsessive reltionship, controlling behavior,manupliation, and briefly mentioned baby trapping

You were his song bird, he'd always say it, it was his Nickname for you. He wasn't ashamed of it either infront of a crowd of all his dinner guests he'd call out for his song bird to come make a host

Such a nice reminder of how you met and fell in love, you even had the ticket Hannibal bought to your opera show framed so it was nice he was also sentimental

But it was much diffrent from hannibal's view

He saw your performances many times before you even met him. Every time he was smitten

Your voice it came from deep down as if it was your soul singing

It indirectly brought him to his childhood your look,voice,and even smell reminded him of his mother's room, the smell of all her perfume and the admiration he had for all the beauty and small details, it was hard to fully put into words but he just knew he had to have you

Although he wanted to simply sweep you up have you in his arms, he had to be patient if he wanted you to sing

A song bird could be trapped in the prettiest golden cage and fed the best quality food but never sing, they'd fall into depression being aware of their lack of freedom.

So he moved slowely charming you one night after a performance when he spotted you in the lobby. He'd take you ok the finest dates and gift you the finest golden jewelry he could find

Of course you were charmed, a respectable well groomed well educated man wanting to give you the world would charm anyone he was like a winning lotto ticket sticking out from any deadbeat,messy,rude, or childish boyfreinds you've had before

If the song bird is unaware of their captivity, the golden bars too far away for them to feel trapped, too busy with toys to want to fly away and it'd be content singing

This is what he did you thought you could go anywhere but he made very sure you'd never be too far away, not that you would wonder off he would do so much with you that you were too tired to go out without him.

He loved hearing your voice In the theatre and seeing how you moved everyone. But his greed was far more powerful, he wanted your voice to only move him to speak directly to him your voice only sung for him. At every performance he'd imagine your voice hitting a note so high everyone but him would shatter like glass leaving him the only one worthy to enjoy your melodies

So he played the long game soon wrapping your finger in a wedding ring, to lure you into the grand cage

After that it was easy to get you to abdonen your career with phrases like, "why work for others when I am more than able to provide", "you could write your own songs with the free time",and the one that hit the hardest "if we had children won't you want to be around them, of course I support working mothers but all the time you spend practicing and when you perform in other states even countries woudnt you rather be with them"

Of course there were a ton mire tactics he used to persuade you, he was very manipulative part of that is what made life to him a game if chess always needing to plot your next move or words

Soon it worked, his song bird was in the cage clueless about the trap and he locked the door

It took years but finally he had his pretty song bird in a golden cage where only he could be blessed with the singing, where only he held the key to free the bird but it remained unaware happily singing

You were happy either way wrapped around him

It was funny you worried that he didn't love you at times or that you were a bother due to how stoic he was and how hard it was to read him

Of course he'd assure you how loved you are but it was funny, you were worried that you were annoying him when he did so much for you to "annoy" him

Everyone saw through the bars even you, you were lucky you married a rich respectful docter who loved you

You'd still sing for the public but not as a profession whenever there was a open mic or any exuse he'd happily watch his songbird sing and the awe in others

He saw it as a blessing to the strangers a rare moment where he'd bring his golden cage to the public to allow others to hear the singing

He'd sketch you alot, you'd be drawn as many Greek Goddesses frequently as aphrodite, or on a stage singing to a audience that was empty exept for one man, him

He never shown you the sketches but he wasn't ashamed its just what he did to keep his mind busy you woudnt show him your middle school doodles

If you ever saw them he'd just admit that he drew them and move on

Though he'd ask you to model for paintings drawing you in so many poses some erotic but some classical, as if you were a medival monarch

Though he usually painted from real life he had one he painted without your modeling, it was you wearing flowing silk while in a golden swing in a golden cage seeming unaware

Oh how he favored it, it was hung in his office for any patients or freinds to see. You felt unease when seeing it but could never put a finger on it

Because a happy songbird was unaware of its cage,it didn't see itself as trapped so it woudnt recognize any depiction of themselves as trapped

[spirit-lanterns]

IT'S THE ALCOHOL TALKING

synopsis: various hsr women when they're drunk.

featuring: serval, stelle, tingyun, fu xuan, asta, bronya

rating: sfw (anyone can interact)

warnings: fem reader, fluff, crack, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk (everyone is of drinking age). very ooc personalities for the girls as they are drunk. pet names, slight pet play (asta), feral tingyun, established relationships.

art credits: bloom into you

SERVAL

“And this so— (hic) is dedicated to my wonderful, beautiful, adorable, most bestest and kindest girlfriend ever—”

When Serval gets drunk, she sings. But the way she sings is less in a badass way and more in a “she took too many shots” kinda way, because your girlfriend was currently doing drunk karaoke at the bar with everyone cheering and shouting. Her body going through a whole workout plan as she was putting her heart and soul into this performance.

You knew you should stop her before she got hurt, but how could you when she was just so cute and screaming her love for you. “Yeahhhhh everyone scream for my girlfriend! She’s the best!” Serval would yell, accidentally causing the mic to screech but not caring because even in her less sober state, she still loved you unconditionally.

“Oh Aeons…” you laughed into your hand and blushed when the rockstar winked in your direction. Yelling the lyrics of some dumb love song while swaying back and forth with the mic. “You’re doing great, sweetie!” 

Serval smiled broadly at your shout and raised her arms in the air, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. 

“Wooooo!”

Oh. Oh no…

And then Serval body slammed onto a table. A loud crash echoed throughout the bar as everyone stopped shouting while you ran over to check if she was okay. 

“Serval? Serval!” 

Your girlfriend swayed for a bit as she slowly looked up at you in a daze. Her body was still getting used to the crash and the alcohol, but even then, she looked up at you and gave you a lopsided grin.

“Oh…you’re pretty. But I have a girlfriend.” she murmured, giggling to herself while gently pushing your hand away.

“I am your girlfriend, silly.” You chuckle, gently lifting her up and brushing her hair back to make sure she wasn’t bruised. “Are you okay, baby?” 

Drunk Serval paused, an even deeper blush growing on her face as she didn’t respond. 

“…Oh.”

She seemed in awe at how she actually had a girlfriend, and you giggled before lifting her up to her feet. “Come on silly, let’s get you home. You drank too much.”

When you kissed her cheek, Serval blushed even more and looked at you with wide eyes. Seemingly falling in love with you all over again…

STELLE

“Baby…”

Stelle would cling to you needily and look up at you with big puppy dog-like eyes. Whimpering as she begged you to let her do the one thing she loved doing the most.

Dumpster diving.

“No Stelle, you just took a shower.” You hummed, tapping your girlfriend’s cheek and taking another sip of alcohol. “Besides, I let you dumpster dive earlier today. You emptied out three whole trash cans before we came out here.”

Stelle whined and looked over at the dumpster outside the bar. After having way too many sips of alcohol with you, Stelle began feeling the side effects as every dumpster and trash can she saw looked like a playground. That, and she started getting more and more clingy with you, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck by the bar. 

“Please…” she mumbled, practically smothering her body against you like a giant teddy bear. “I want…nnh…wanna jump in…”

Her speech was getting a little slurred and you sighed as you realized your precious Stelle was getting drunk, meaning you’d have to leave sooner or later anyways. 

“…One. Dumpster.” You say with a sigh. 

Stelle’s eyes lit up and she immediately started kissing your cheek. Usually Stelle would be too shy to do PDA with you in crowded areas, but she was just too drunk and too happy to care. “Thank you!” She mumbled against your cheek, giving it an affectionate little nibble before running off to dive headfirst into the trash.

You chuckled at the sight and made sure to keep watch so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Your girlfriend having a blast as she stumbles around in the dumpster pulling out various items she found interesting. 

After a few minutes of dumpster diving, your girlfriend tumbled out of the bin with trash sticking to her hair. “Oof!” Despite that however, she excitedly ran up to you and hugged you. “Baby look, look. I found a new blender…!”

You tried to keep your laughter in as she held up a blender that was not only broken, but was missing its blades. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was useless, so you just patted her head and praised her. “Good job, baby. You did so well.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, nuzzling you as the effects of alcohol started taking over again and making her clingy. “Can we go home now? I want to add this to my collection…”

Before you could even respond, Stelle ends up slumping against your arms and sleepily kissing your neck. Heat building up in your face as Stelle was never this affectionate with you in public…

“Pfft, okay.” You chuckle, patting your girlfriend on the head, “Let's go home.” 

TINGYUN

“Off! Back off!”

Tingyun hissed at yet another stray cat while her tail was raised high in the air. The most unholiest of feral fox sounds emitting from your girlfriend as she screamed at any animal that even so much as dared look at you. 

“Tingyun dear, I think that’s enough soju for now…” you gently pulled the glass away from her and watched as she glared holes into the poor dog passing by on the street. Her teeth poked out from between her lips like she was getting ready to attack, nails gripping the hardwood table before you calmed her down with a hug. 

“Tingyun, I’m right here.” you hummed into her ear, planting a comforting kiss on her cheek. “I’m not in any danger.” 

“Yes, because I am protecting you…!” Tingyun slurred, her tail swaying back and forth before standing upright at the sight of a bird. “Away! Shoo! Shoo!” 

Tingyun was definitely one of the most unique types of drunks you’d ever have the pleasure of seeing, as she would get awfully protective of you whenever there were animals present. It was like the foxian side of her had taken over once alcohol entered her system, and while it was entertaining, you did worry for Tingyun’s reputation…

“Pfft, alright dear. Thank you for protecting me from the scary bird,” you cupped her face and pulled her towards you, giggling at the sight of her scrunched up and pouty face. “You’re so brave. I am just simply awestruck at what an amazing girlfriend you are.”

You kiss the top of her nose and Tingyun’s face starts going pink, her tail slowly wagging in praise as she stares lovingly at your eyes. 

“I love you…” she purrs out, her drunk-dazed eyes going half lidded like a cat. 

“I love you too.” You giggle, cupping her face as you lean in to kiss her fully this time. Closing your eyes and ready to claim her lips when—

HISSSSS

Not again! 

You grabbed Tingyun’s face before she could get up and pulled her down towards you. “Oh no you don’t, we are going home.” You quickly kiss her on the lips and distract her long enough to drag her away from the bar. Your foxian girlfriend whining and trying her best to squirm out of your grasp but to no avail.

“Let me go! Baby, let me go!” 

She nibbled on your arm as you dragged her away and you sighed, patting her fluffy ears while taking her drunk ass all the way home. 

FU XUAN

“Yeah that’s right, she’s (hic) mine…”

Fu Xuan was currently sitting on your lap and glaring at everyone like a feisty kitty who wouldn’t let go of a toy. She had her brows furrowed and tensed in an angry way while she gripped your shoulders to show ownership, her body swaying in a way that indicated to you that your girlfriend was getting drunk.

“Oh, Fu Xuan…” you chuckled, feeling her forehead to see if she was getting sweaty. “Are you getting tipsy?”

“Of course not. I’m (hic) perfectly sober, my love.”

You raised a brow and tried to hide the smirk growing on your face. My love? Since when did Fu Xuan get so affectionate? It was almost like she was lying straight to your face…

“Are you?” You teased, holding her tightly by the waist. “You’re hiccuping, little bunny…”

“I just need more water!” She quickly spat out, before taking another shot of soju which she thought was water. “Nngh! Why is water so bitter?”

“That’s soju, love.” You chuckled, pulling the shot glass away from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, why don’t we go home?” You pat Fu Xuan’s head and giggle when she starts to pout. “I don’t want to move…” she mumbles, plopping her head into your boobs. “Darling feels good…”

Your heart speeds up when she says this and you can’t help but hold in a squeal. How cute, perhaps drunk Fu Xuan can stay for a little while longer—

No, you shouldn’t. As her girlfriend, the right thing to do is to take her home and take care of her. You sigh and gently hoist her up in your arms, Fu Xuan panicking for a moment as she wraps her legs around your waist. 

“Wha— darling the floor is falling—”

“I’m just standing up.”

She immediately clings to your neck and holds on to you tightly, slowly closing her eyes as she feels herself getting nauseous. “Don’t drop me. You hear?”

“Yes darling, I hear.” You chuckle, keeping your arms firmly under her thighs while you begin carrying her out of the bar. “Try not to look up too much, we don’t want you getting dizzy and throwing up on my back.”

Fu Xuan gives you a hissy glare and just blushes before hugging you close. “I won’t throw up…I never throw up…” 

She begins grumbling to herself and you smile at the sight. Patting the back of her head while the two of you head home together. 

ASTA

“Awe Peppy you’re so cute! Who’s a good boy? Oh who’s my good boy?” 

Asta cooed and drunkenly squished your cheeks together while calling you Peppy and patting your head. You, her girlfriend. Her loving and doting girlfriend who was very much human and very much not a dog. 

“Asta—” you chuckled, “I’m not Peppy.”

“My Peppy is so big and strong…!” Asta grinned, rubbing your cheeks together while peppering your face in sweet, gentle kisses. “The sweetest and cutest canine ever oh yes you are…”

You rolled your eyes at how silly your girlfriend was being and just went along with it. Deciding to tease her a bit by playing along with her little charade.

“Woof.”

Asta squealed and kissed your face even more, taking another swig of her alcoholic beverage while scratching underneath your chin. “Ohhh if only your other mommy could see you now…” Asta sighed, unaware that her girlfriend was literally right there. “Hm, perhaps I should send her a video.”

Asta whipped out her phone and began recording you while still believing you were Peppy. “Okay Peppy! Let’s send mommy a little video to show her how cute you are being. Come on, say hi to mommy!”

“…Woof.”

You couldn’t help but smile when Asta got so excited, patting your head in praise while going “good boy…!” Into the camera. Oh how embarrassed she will be once she finds the video in her camera roll the next morning, you couldn’t wait.

After a few more minutes of playing the little dog shenanigans with your girlfriend, you finally decided that it was getting late and Asta definitely needed to head back to bed. 

“Sigh, okay Asta. I think it’s time we head back home, hm?” You chuckle, finally breaking out of your Peppy act charade. “You’ve had quite a few drinks already…”

Asta tilted her head when she saw you getting up to leave, and her mind instantly went to Peppy once more.

“Oh? Does Peppy want to go home now?” Asta hums, smiling and taking your hand. “Don’t forget your leash!” 

Wait, what?

And then out of nowhere she whips out a leash and clips the collar to your neck, surprising you as you had no idea that Asta carried around a leash at all times. 

“Come on boy! Let’s go home to mommy!”

She gave the leash a little tug and you sighed with no choice but to follow her. Asta skipping happily beside you with you chuckling beside her in return. 

BRONYA

“…”

You were getting worried for your girlfriend as she had been staring at the wall in silence for the past six or so minutes. No pressure, Bronya was usually quiet when invited to bars like this one, but she never was this quiet and it was starting to worry you a little.

“…Bronya?”

You poke her cheek.

“Bronya?”

She blinks and slowly turns to you, eyes wide like a cat who got into some catnip as she seemed to be lost in another world. 

“There is a train that can travel through universes.”

Ah, so it’s one of those nights. The kind of nights where Bronya would get lost in the dark abyss of her mind and say the most random, deep things that would have her questioning her sanity by the time you pull her out of the bar. 

“Mhm, the Astral Express is capable of doing that.” You chuckle, trying to downplay how deep her thoughts really were. “Uhm…baby?”

Bronya was still staring in silence as she was now looking at the ice cubes melting in her drink. She usually got like this whenever she was sleep deprived or blanking out, but today it was especially prominent as Bronya took one too many sips of her beverage whilst sitting at the bar with you.

“Darling, do you think other universes could come to Belobog and fix our Fragmentum problem?” Bronya said while spacing out, the gears in her mind rolling as she slowly took another sip of her drink. “Aeons, we should’ve told the Astral Express crew to bring back some people. Perhaps the people at the Herta Space Station could help us. Or— I believe they are people…”

Bronya paused again and her eyes got wide.

“Darling…do aliens exist? Are the people at the Herta Space Station actually people?”

She gasped and suddenly turned to face you.

“The Astral Express crew. Do they count as aliens too?!”

You quickly shut her up with a kiss before she could get too deep in her alien vs human conspiracies. Your girlfriend squeaking and blushing before finally calming down in your hold. 

“Bronya, sweetie. It’s very late, and as cute as you are rambling about aliens and conspiracy theories, I think it’s time we head back home.” You slowly pulled the drink away from her and helped her stand up from her seat. “Come on, you can borrow my coat. It’s cold out.”

Bronya flushed when you wrapped your coat around her while the two of you began walking back home. The Supreme Guardian leaning against your shoulder affectionately as a comfortable silence falls between you. 

“…Do penguins have knees?”

“Oh Aeons.”

[girlboypersonthingy]

valentines day with lucifer pleaseee

YAASSS IM SUCH A LUCIFER SIMP *bangs on table* I love him so much, it’s a problem. Like look at him… 🥹 thanks for the request and ENJOY!

(I don’t own this picture)

Lucifer x reader- Valentine’s Day 🤍

Whether you two have been together for 3 weeks or 3 centuries, he will ask you to be his valentine every. single. year.

Baby boy is such a hopeless romantic I stg

Goes all out too! Would never just get you flowers and chocolates. From the king of hell?! No way. Only the absolute best for his love.

In this case, this is your very first Valentine’s Day together!!! D’AAAWWWWW

You come home/back to the hotel the day before valentines and there’s red and pink balloons every where, rose petals all over the ground, the lights are dim and soft. Very much a romantic movie scene type thing.

“(Y/N)~” Lucifer calls out to you sweetly, softly as he watches you look around at all the new decor.

When he finally has your attention, he holds his gloved hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

You can’t help but smile as you run to hug him. He laughs softly against you before he pops the question, his arms gently squeezing you against him.

“(Y/N)? Will you be my valentine, sweetheart?” And all you can do is laugh and hold him even closer.

“Oh, Luci~ Of course I will!”

OBVIOUSLY this dork makes you a cool ass duck as a gift. It’s one that really relates to you, has something to do with your looks or personality or an inside joke between the two of you. It’s special just for you 🥹

Def wants to take you on a nice date somewhere. Maybe a fancy restaurant, maybe to a bar, maybe a coffee shop for some caffeine and sweets.

Def asks you what you want to do and leaves the choice to you. He’s fine with whatever as long as he can hold your hand and give you kisses every 2 seconds so often.

DEFINITELY picks you up in a fancy ass car with a chauffeur and champagne and everything!

Whatever you decide to do, he’s sooooo distracted the whole time. There’s so much on his mind rn and it’s all different thoughts about you, most of them innocent 😈

I mean how is he supposed to keep his thoughts 100% clean and innocent when you dressed so nicely for your valentines date and you keep laughing extra loud at his jokes and blushing bright red at every compliment he shoots your way.

Of course he dresses to the nines as well. He looks great in white, don’t get me wrong. But him in a deep red suit with pink accents for valentines?!,!!??!,? PLZ 😍

He also loves the way people stare when you two go out together. Sure, it’s not totally conventional for the king of hell, Lucifer himself, to be so deeply in love with someone of your status but that’s what really bonds you two. It’s not some arrangement or a deal made for your soul or anything besides true love and attraction for each other.

He loves and trusts you so much, you’re so different from everyone else who fights for his attention.

And you’re just thanking your lucky stars, wondering how the hell you pulled him. He’s so perfect omfgggg

He is sure to ask you if everything is to your liking, how you’re feeling, what you want to do next. He’s very observant and considerate.

It’s hard to even eat or drink or whatever you’re trying to focus on bc he keeps staring at you and holding your hand and winking at you Everytime you guys make eye contact.

Don’t get me wrong! He’s lovey dovey and super sweet all the time but on this holiday of romance and love, he’s going 1000 times harder!

He would totally take you back to his house to finish off your romantic evening.

Probably puts on some music and takes off his coat to get more comfy.

Offers you a drink and goes to make it himself, adding some cute little garnish to it just to be fancy for you.

Sits on the couch in the living room with you and keeps his hands on you in some way. Touching your thigh, holding your hand, rubbing your arm or your back.

Proceeds to talk your ear off about everything and anything as his hands roam your body subconsciously.

Luci definitely talks a lot, rambles on and on to you all the time. Hope you’re a good listener ;) he doesnt have many other loved ones to talk to you so you get to hear it all

He talks so much he probably often tells you the same story over and over again. You tell him “Yes, Luci. You told me this already.” with a sweet smile at least once a day.

Tries to kiss you but accidentally bumps his head into yours instead.

Now you’re both laughing so loud, blushing so bright red and can’t maintain eye contact for more than a second or two.

He probably cracks a joke to ease the tension in the room too. And even worse, it’s some lame dad joke or a pun lmaoooo

Leans in again, much slower this time. His eyes flutter shut and he purses his lips as he approaches.

His kiss is scorching hot but so so soft.

Maybe you guys have kissed before, maybe not. But this kiss hits different. Maybe it’s the Valentine’s Day sweetness in the air, maybe it’s because he’s so goofy and silly and comfortable with you all the time, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had tonight, maybe all three?

But this kiss…is the most passionate you’ve ever shared with him.

[cowplant-snacks]

Cowplant Academy Class of 2026

The Cowplant Academy is a place for youth with special abilities to hide and well… maybe thrive? I originally shared these teen sims last year, however, they have been updated and now have families!

They are CC free and have at least 1 outfit in every category, pronouns, preferences, likes and dislikes, lifestyles, established relationship dynamics, skills, & turn-offs and turn-ons. Some also have jobs and/or are signed up for after school activities as well.

Gallery ID: Cowplant-Snacks \ alt download (sfs, free, no ads)

The Halversons are Werewolves

The Halverson are a family rooted in their community. Silas can be found conducting lectures on werewolf history and acceptance, while Genesis is often in the kitchen cooking for community events and giving out relationship advice to neighbors. Amaya is such a big help with her siblings and is always putting her parents' goals before her own, but she recently started a streaming channel playing her favorite games. Will she be able to keep up with all the demands of her time?

The Boldens are Spellcasters

Isaias Bolden is a notorious crook. While his very presence can make other sims cower, you can often find him doting on every single whim his beloved daughter, Aaliyah, has. He hopes that his son, Abram, will follow in his footsteps. However, Abram finds himself wondering what life might look like outside of organized crime but gosh… he's sorta good at it. He's at a crossroads, what will he do? Hopefully his pals at the Cowplant Academy can help him find his own way.

The Londons are Werewolves

The London's are a loud and chaotic werewolf family working to achieve their individual dreams. Poor Duffy can barely hear his own thoughts or his favorite TV shows over the cacophony of sounds his family creates. Whenever a family member is feeling down, Duffy is always there to cheer them up with one of his corniest jokes. But who cheers Duffy up? Hopefully that girl he's been crushing on at school has a matching romance bar.

The Comer & Gale Families are Mermaids

As a beloved King of a prosperous and peaceful Kingdom, you’d think there wouldn't be anything troubling Tobias but the reality is he is surrounded by a mess of his own doing. He ventured outside of his marriage and brought a second child into the world. After creating this riff, can he bridge the gap and bring these two families together as one? Poor Kingston and Madeleine can feel everyone's curious stares at school; they both avoid the topic AND… each other.

The Hernandezs are Spellcasters & Humans

Pedro fell for Annabelle's quick wit and creative spirit. For her, it was his commitment to family and his big beautiful brown eyes. While they may not always be on the same page about their love life, they both agree that their children are their greatest joy. Theo fills his time climbing trees and collecting knee scrapes. Lizbeth's happy place is Theater Club and it’s the only reason she stays in that crappy high school, but will it alone be enough to get her to graduate?

The Sus are Vampires

Mei and Hao are old fashioned and enjoy living a simple life unburdened by the advances of technology. However, their daughter, McKinley, prefers to keep up with each new changing decade as they come. Can these #technophobes and their tech obsessed daughter bridge the gap and coexist in a loving and peaceful household? That's not the only thing her parents don't understand. The other is her choice in a crush. A mermaid? Why can't she just fall in love with a decent vampire?

The Benedicts are Vampires

Leonard and Keisha have drifted apart over the centuries. They hoped bringing Caiphus into the family would solve their problems, but unfortunately, all it did was bring another soul into their mess. Caiphus attends the Cowplant Academy and plays on the football team, He’s only truly happy when he’s gripping pig skin, racing across the plastic turf, and tackling boys. He finds himself curious about one young man in particular, will he get up the nerve to ask him to the next school dance?

Important Notes:

I didn’t make the pets so they are not included. However, I am happy to answer WCIFs about them if folks are interested.

Stairwell pose: Thanks @keirosims for this awesome pose.

(Optional) default eyes + skin are here

Original post of the teens is here

[lovelettersfromluna]

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ The Bug Collector ｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: The one where you own a sweet little book store, and Ellie makes it her life mission to torment you.

an: a request from @ximtiredx !! (Thank you so much btw). Basically Ellie is a raging asshole with a giant fucking crush on you, and you’re too sweet and oblivious to even notice, so she just comes off as cocky and mean heh. ALSO! This is most definitely a small town fic! The summer is in full swing and it’s inspiring me so much to make something inspired by it. I strayed away from Ellie being a dickhead a tiny bit towards the end bc I can’t help but make her soft and enamored with the reader I’m sorry @ximtiredx 😭 Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! (Not proofread again SO SORRY)

Warnings: 18+ smut!! Ellie is kind of an asshole in this one and very bad at feelings. A tiny bit of angst? Reader is a little oblivious, thigh riding sort of?? Scissoring sort of?? I KNOW ANOTHER SCISSORING FIC IM SORRY it just made the most sense to me, pet names, Ellie is obsessed with readers tits, slight mean!ellie (she redeems herself later), super fluffy at the end, let me know if I missed anything!

The small fan you had perched up on your counter did nothing to cool you down.

The summer had been brutal, and business was extremely slow because no one wanted to set foot out into the miniature oven that was your town. You let out a soft sigh, doodling little stars and moons all over your notebook, which was completely fucking empty.

It was too warm out, and you were suffering the worst case of writers block. It was like any thoughts that came into your head were always involving how hot you were and how much you wanted to be anywhere else other than where you were right now.

And that wasn’t even like you. You adored your little book store, putting your entire heart and soul into bringing new stories to the people of your town, your heart fluttering every time you rang up someone and they had that familiar face of wonder and excitement as they waited for you to wrap up their books in your brown paper bags, your cute store logo written on the front.

But it was hard to be excited for that when the only person you saw was the baker next door, and when the summer was melting you from the inside out.

It was almost noon, and you were contemplating closing up shop early and going home. You’d still be hot, but you’d be hot in the comfort of your little home.

But then the bell above your door rang, signaling that a customer had arrived.

And your face was lighting up, because finally, someone was there that you could talk to.

But of course, out of everyone in your very small town, the person that happened to walk through your doors was of course none other than Ellie Williams herself.

You didn’t have a problem with Ellie, you loved all your customers equally. Giving each and every one of them the same sweet smile that you always did, making sure to throw in extra goodies with every purchase, because you truly adored them all for supporting your tiny store.

But Ellie was a little….mean.

Most things went right over your head, because you were too caught up with trying to help her find a book that she’d like (which she usually never even bought anything from your store). But other things, you did catch onto.

Like when she teased you for being an old lady stuck in a 20 something year olds body, that one sort of hurt your feelings. Or when she asked you when the last time it was that you went to a party or a bar and no tea parties didn’t count, also hurt. Or, when she’d make fun of your clothes, specifically calling you a farmer whenever you’d wear your favorite pair of overalls, they were cute, okay?

So some of the things she said did hurt your feelings, but you just assumed that she was just…like that, that all of that was just Ellie being Ellie. No matter what, you never stopped giving her your sweetest smile, because as much as she wanted you to.

You never took it personally.

Your sweet smile is on your face as you perk up once you see her, straightening your back out and adjusting your posture as you give her a wave.

“Ellie! Welcome in! Having a good day?” You chirped, and she’s already stalking her way towards you, smug smirk on her face as she leans her forearms against your counter, shaking her head as she turns your fan so that it’s now only hitting her.

“It’s fuckin’ hot sweetheart, do you think I’m having a good day?” Her voice is rough and raspy, and you can’t help but sigh softly before nodding in agreement.

“It is…I do wish it was cooler in here for you” you sighed, looking down at your fan that was blowing warm air through her pretty brown hair. “Looking for anything specific today? Maybe I can help”

And you’re flashing that sweet smile in her direction again, making her roll her eyes. “Are books all you can ever think about? God it’s a little pathetic, don’t you think sweetheart?”

Her words make you frown, but then you remember that, that’s just Ellie.

You let out a soft sigh before you shrug, your lips pouting out a bit as you speak. “I dunno…books are just…they’re comforting, you know? It’s nice to lay down after a long day and just read” you explain.

And Ellie is holding back a groan because she’s picturing you in bed, in her t shirt, reading a book, and she can already feel herself getting turned on. It’s pathetic because you haven’t even done anything to make her want you.

Maybe that’s why she picks on you so much.

You don’t even try and she’s putty in her hands, and that pisses her off. You don’t give her any special treatment, you don’t bat your eyelashes like the other girls whenever she compliments you, and you act like she’s just any other person when she walks into your store, trying to find it in herself to ask you out and not be a dick to you.

But she doesn’t, she’s always mean to you.

She likes the way your cheeks get red, and she thinks you almost like that she’s so mean. There’s just something about the way you take deep inhales after she’s said something particularly nasty that has her smirking like an asshole.

“That’s fuckin lame man…and you know it” she sighs out, pushing herself off of your counter. She finally gets a good look at you once she does, and she’s shamelessly letting her eyes drift down your pretty body.

The warmer months are Ellie’s favorite, because it forces you to wear less and less clothes.

Your white linen dress hugs your mid size perfectly, pushing your tits up more than she’s ever seen them before. It’s just short enough that she gets to see more of your plush thighs. She’s biting her lip like she’s staring at a fucking meal, her green eyes burning from a lack of blinking before she looks up at you, raising her eyebrows once she realizes she’s missed what you said.

You furrows your eyebrows as you watch her watching you, looking down at your dress. Was there a stain on you or something? Or maybe she was going to make fun of your dress?

When she doesn’t, and she continues to stare at you, you repeat yourself.

“I said, that it’s fine that you feel that way…we’re just different, that’s all” you nod to yourself before you round your counter and make your way deeper into your book store, busying yourself with organizing your shop a bit more.

Ellie follows you, leaning up against the shelves that you’re restocking as she's eyeing you up and down, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she watches you.

It's annoying because you're so fucking oblivious. You don't notice any of the attention that she gives you. You don't notice the way her eyes roam down your body, or the way she's dead silent whenever you bend over to pick up a stack of books, Ellie is positive that she needs to tattoo 'I want you' on her forehead for you to get the message, and even then it wouldn't be clear to you how badly she wants you.

She also hates when you say that, that you and her are different. It sounds like you're dismissing her attempts at trying to ask you out, and it pisses her off.

"No, means you're lame and i'm not" She huffs out, turning her back so she was leaning against the shelves. You sigh, standing on your toes to get one of your books on the higher shelves, huffing softly to yourself in concentration.

"I...yes thats nice Ellie...if you're not going to buy anything, you can leave" You sigh out, still struggling to reach the highest shelf. You were too focused on restocking your books, and frankly you had no time for Ellie and her games. It was too fucking hot, you were very fucking tired, and she was just so...so..

So fucking mean.

Your words make Ellie seethe, because you've never asked her to leave.

And she's scoffing, rolling her eyes as she finally pushes herself off the shelf, snatching the book from your hand and settling it on the shelf without any struggling from her end. "Get a fucking step ladder next time, princess" She spits, and her tone makes you flinch a bit.

You watch her as she storms out, and for a moment you think you might have been too mean for saying what you did. You truly didn't mean it, not in the way that she might have thought anyway. You were just...frustrated, and Ellie made you feel even more frustrated...

But then you're thinking about how rude Ellie is to you all the time, so cocky and smug. Bragging to you about the parties she attends in the city, or the amount of girls that are dangling off her arm whenever she's there, and she tells you that you could never be like that, you could never get out the way she does because you're just a boring little librarian who's only friends are the baker next door and the couple who owns the pet store a few blocks down.

Ellie is fucking mean, and you hate that you're blaming yourself for finally stand up to her...sort of.

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

The end of the day comes sooner than you expected.

Mainly because all you can think about is Ellie, and it's distracting you from the heat. No one else comes in for the rest of the day, only a few of your regulars to drop off some books they had finished and wanted to donate to you. Other than that, it was just you and the soft music that played out of your old little radio.

You close up an hour early, figuring that there was no use in staying open late. More times than not, people wouldn't be making an emergency late night run to the little book store in town.

You frown softly as you turn off all the lights, and flip the little sign on your door to the side that says 'sorry! come back tomorrow!'. You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, the strange weight that you had been carrying ever since Ellie had left earlier in the day.

She didn't even say anything that was out of the ordinary for her, she was always witty and rude. It was just...she seemed so...hurt, when you told her to leave. You then realized that it was something you had never done, to her or anybody that set foot in your shop.

Even though you shouldn't, it made you want to apologize.

You pulled your bag further up on your shoulder, deep in thought as you only hoped she would return the next morning. You were already replaying the words in your head that you would say, trying your best to make amends with the girl that would never once apologize for all of the mean things she said to you.

You don't even notice her sitting on the bench thats set right outside of your shop.

Her fists are shoved in her pockets, and her knee is bouncing wildly as she waits for you. She had been waiting for quite some time, knowing that you would have to close up shop eventually.

When she does hear the little bell on your door ring, she's up on her feet in seconds, making her way towards you.

"Hey..um...you mind if I walk you home?" She asks, and you're blinking up at her almost in shock because you're positive you've never heard Ellie use such a gentle tone with you before.

You even go as far as to look around you, just to make sure she's speaking to you and not someone nearby. When you confirm that she is in fact speaking to you, you give her a small nod, and you both begin to walk into the direction of your house in silence.

She feels awkward, and stupid, and she regrets the way she's been tormenting you for god knows how long, and she finally has the chance to be civil with you and she isn't saying anything.

Because she's an idiot.

You break the silence first.

With a small clearing of your throat, you're tugging the strap of your bag gently, eyes glued to your shoes as you walk. "Um..do you live around here?" Your voice is soft, and Ellie feels like she wants to kick herself for being so rude to someone so fucking sweet.

"No, no. I live on the other side of town." She doesn't even fully finish her sentence and you're already stopping in your tracks, shaking your head quickly. "Oh no..you dont need to walk me all the way there then..I'd hate to make you walk across town in the dark."

Ellie stares at you in disbelief, because its already dark, and you'd be walking alone, and she is quite literally your bully, but yet you're still worrying about her walking home on her own, sacrificing your safety and comfort so that she doesn't have to make her way back,

She chuckles softly before she shakes her head, placing her hand on the small of your back as she urges you to continue walking on. "No fuckin' way, you're not getting rid of me that easily" She hums, and her words make you giggle, the air between the two of you already feeling less tense.

She sighs out softly, her hand dropping from your back before she speaks again. "Look I...I waited for you so I could apologize...its not cool the way I treat you.." She mumbled, almost sounding ashamed of herself for even being in this position to begin with.

You hum softly, staring down at the ground once again as you nod at her words. "Didn’t expect to hear those words from you, Ellie…” you mumble out, and it makes Ellie feel like shit.

She groans “I can be nice too you know..” and it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than she’s trying to convince you. You giggle softly as you look up at her, the warm summer breeze blowing her pretty hair back, brown fringe sweeping across her face before you speak.

“Oh really? I’ve yet to see that” you hum, and it doesn’t have any bite to it, and it isn’t harsh. It’s simply the truth. You truly have never experienced any sort of nice behavior come from Ellie that wasn’t used as a way to lure you into another one of her stupid jokes or pranks.

Ellie sighs, because she knows you’re right, and she’s annoyed at herself for it. She opens her mouth to speak, but you’re already in front of your house, and of course your house is just as fucking cute as you are.

It makes Ellie want to scream at herself.

She sucks in a harsh breath as you both stand outside your place, and she asking before she can even stop herself.

“Can I come in?”

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

Ellie is sat at your little kitchen table while you get her something to drink. She’s taking in the little trinkets in your home, and it looks like a cozier version of your book store, she wasn’t even sure if it could get any cozier than that in all honesty.

But it does, because it’s bright and colorful and it smells like you, and Ellie finds that she doesn’t even want to leave.

You return with a talk pitcher of fresh lemonade that you had made yourself the day before, knowing the weeks weather would be brutal and you’d need it for when you got home. You placed two glasses on the table and a pitcher before you poured some out for her.

“It’s too hot out for tea…I hope this is fine” you gave her a gentle smile before you sat down across from her.

It’s moments like this where Ellie doesn’t think you’re even real. As she watches you move from the kitchen to the table in your little sundress, pitcher of lemonade in hand, she realizes how badly she wants you. She’s always known that she’s wanted you…but it’s practically screaming at her as she sits there in your home.

The two of you talk for a bit, and she finds that it’s the first time she’s actually talking to you. Getting to know you, asking you about your store, and it’s the same for you. You’re able to ask Ellie things you were too scared to ask her in the beginning.

Ellie realizes her little crush for you is so much bigger than she thought it was in the beginning.

Soon enough, you’re both moving to the couch. The cool breeze that was blowing in through your window made you look like a dream to Ellie, and she was sure that she was staring like a dazed out idiot, but you seemed so comfortable around her, and Ellie had realized that she’s never actually seen you this way before.

Not around her at least.

You hum softly once your words die down, looking over at the large old clock on your wall. It was already so late, and you knew for a fact if you sat there any longer, that you’d be able to sit with her for hours and just talk.

“It’s already so late…I should probably start heading to bed” you sigh out, and Ellie can tell that you’re feeling tired. She nods quickly, standing up and grabbing both of your glasses and taking them to your sink. The gesture makes you giggle softly.

You pat down your dress before you walk her towards your front door.

As she walks out and turns around so that she’s facing you, you think there’s an angel at your door. Because the moon is shining down on her pretty face, and she’s staring down at you with those big green eyes, and you feel like she’s walked out of a dream of yours.

Your staring is how you end up in Ellie’s lap on your couch.

Because she knows that look, she’s seen it so many times before from other girls that have wanted her. But she feels like she’s dreaming because you’re looking at her that way, so she couldn’t help herself from leaning forward, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing a needy kiss to your lips.

She takes advantage of the way you gasp into her mouth, pushing her tongue into yours as she’s already walking you backwards towards your couch, kicking your front door closed.

You’re a mess on top of her, straddling her lap, her hands pushing up her dress and squeezing the plush skin of your thighs.

You moan softly into her mouth, feeling like the first kiss from her made you want so much more. Your hands are tugging at her hair, pulling her closer to you and keeping her closer to you. “Ellie….” You moan out.

Ellie breaks the kiss, looking up at you with blown out pupils as she nods, just as breathless as you are. “What is it baby? Tell me what you need?” She sighs softly, giving your thighs a soft squeeze.

And you’re whining because you don’t even know what you need, you’re just moaning, and needy, and your skin feels like it’s on fucking fire because you haven’t felt want and lust like this in a long fucking time. So you begin to grind your hips down on her lap, moaning out as you arch your back at the feeling.

“Mmm….fuuuuck…just…need you Ellie…wanna feel you…please” you whine, and Ellie is staring up at you like you’re a fucking goddess because she’s only ever dreamt about you like this, on her lap moaning for her.

The feeling of you rocking your hips back and forth on her lap is making her moan with you, because your thigh is slotted right between her legs, and your movements are bringing her just the right amount of friction that she needs from you.

She grips your hips harder, forcing you to grind harder down on her lap. She let her head fall back against the couch, a soft hiss leaving her lips followed by a long, drawn out moan.

“Fuuuuck…that’s it baby, grind that pretty lil cunt on me…fuck you feel so good….” She leans forward, pulling your dress down so your tits pop out for her, and her lips are latching onto your nipple in an instant. The feeling of her warm mouth has your head spinning, and you’re positive there’s a wet spot on her jeans.

From you and from her.

You gasp softly as you stare down at her attacking your nipples with her mouth, biting and sucking, your hands still laced in her hair as you go faster.

“F-fuck! Ah…mmm…Ellie I’m…oh my god!…I’m gonna fucking cuuummm”

Ellie is nodding against you, her lips coming off of your nipple with a pop before she’s staring up at you again, strong hands guiding your hips to go faster, her own pussy grinding against your thigh as she moans loudly.

“That’s it princess, fuck…cum with me, be a good girl and fucking cum with me..” she groans out, and you truly don’t need to be told twice.

Because between her words and her moans, you’re throwing your head back and your hips stifle as you cum hard against her. She’s pressing her face into your chest, breathing hard as her orgasm washes over her as well.

The two of you sit there for a moment, the only noises in the room being the sounds of your breathing and the occasional kisses she’d press to your chest.

This time, Ellie breaks the silence first.

She sighs softly, her arms sliding up to grip your middle as she pulls you closer to her body, now pressing kisses to your neck as she hums.

“I wanna take you out…on a real date” she hums softly, and it makes you giggle. She smirks softly against your skin before she pulls back a bit, staring up at you with raised eyebrows. “You laughin’ at me?” She questions, and you smile softly as you give her a nod, brushing her hair out of her face.

“It’s a little late for asking me out on a date, don’t you think?” You hum, and she groans softly as her eyes flutter shut. She’s embarrassed because you’re right, you just made her cum on your thigh and she was choosing now of all times to ask you out.

“Better late then never? I mean…I know it’s really fucking backwards on my end but I just…I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for a really long time..and I get it if you wouldn’t want to go out with someone who’s only been rude to you but I just really fucking like you and-“ you cut her off with your lips pressing against hers.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows, but still melts into the kiss nonetheless. She stares at you with a confused expression, because you’re giving her that sweet smile with pretty sleepy eyes and she feels like she’s being pranked or something.

“You’re cute when you ramble…” you hum softly, and it makes her cheeks go red. You giggle softly before you nod, pressing another gentle kiss to the corner of her lips.

“I’ll let you take me out on a date if you spend the night” you hum, and her eyes are nearly bulging out of her head because she couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as you is asking her to stay the next.

She nods eagerly, turning her head so she catches your lips against hers, making you giggle.

You spend the rest of the night in each others arms after the nicest shower Ellie has ever had, getting to know each other and making up for lost time. And as crazy as it may sound to you…

You are so fucking happy that Ellie was so shit at flirting.

[celenawrites]

late night drive (m.)

Summary -

After a stressful work day, you spend the night with two handsome men.

Pairing -

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x F! Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Warnings -

Explicit smut (18+ only), slight praise, usage of nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, lass, etc), Oral sex (F, M receiving), Reader has self-esteem issues and it shows heavily, slight angst.

w.c. - 6.5k

masterlist || ao3 vers.

MINORS DNI, or I'll bite your ankles. This stuff is for adults only. 18+ folks only.

You have met them both at a seedy bar set a little off to the left from the heart of the city. 

Johnny and Simon. You remember them sitting at the bar, glasses half-filled with Kentucky bourbon, faint murmurs of their conversation flowing like a gentle stream between them and their hands tenderly drawing mindless shapes on their scarred skins. (as if they were writing their soft declarations of love with their fingers on each other, invisible to the eye and yet etched into their souls.)

You are uncertain how you caught their eye. You are not sure if there is something in you that they had caught in a passing glance, and decided to open their hearts (and their beds) to you for this one night as a result. 

You had been there after bombing another promising job interview, pissed at your failed potential (you were an A plus student - honors call and all, until you weren’t anymore) and the dead-end job of yours that had you feeling miserable for the past three or so years. It didn’t help that any time you fiddled with your phone, you’d be bombarded with pictures of your schoolmates and college friends marrying, or going on vacations and having a family of their own - growing older with someone, anyone; their lives full and moving and vibrant with colors that usually hurt your eyes. 

Meanwhile, you are just living. 

A day at a time. A week at a time. 

Day to day to day has always been the same. You wake up, work, cook and clean for one and you indulge in past hobbies in order to capture the joy that has somehow slipped past your fingers the older you grew. You have no furry companions you can use as an excuse to go out on a walk, no lovers to send raunchy texts to, and no friends who would abandon their children and husbands to give you company while you wallow in your eternal misery as you drink your pain away with a beer bottle with condensation settling down on its neck, leaving your palms wet and slippery. 

You don’t even try to think about your family. 

So there you are, an untouched glass of pink gin kept in front of you and your hands nervously raking through your oiled hair and your rumpled work outfit (a sky blue blouse paired with black pencil skirt) ostracized you further from the patrons of the bar. And then you’re approached by Johnny who eyes your colorful drink with mild interest. 

Johnny with his wild mohawk and kind brown eyes and kissable lips - who wondered out loud what a pretty little lady like you was doing in a place like this (you almost snorted derisively at the casual compliment, but the fatigue had you more amenable to flattery) and then he asked you about your disheveled state, and you tell him that everyone with a job feels like this on a usually busy weekday. He nods like he understands you, and then he invites you to join him and his boyfriend for some drinks. 

Who are you to refuse free drinks and such handsome company?

The conversation is freeing in a way that it allows your mind to forget that the world exists outside of this temporary, delicate bubble that consists of you, Johnny and Simon. Johnny fills the space with his warm voice, enveloping you in comfort and safety as he talks about anything and everything - he tells you that both of them are in the Army (But none of them would budge to answer any questions of yours. “If I answered that, I’d have to kill you”, he joked, but his hardened gaze told you that there is some truth to it.You decided to not let your curiosity guide you anymore.), the football game on the television hung up on the wall, the movie that came out last week, the bourbon they have been nursing for the past half hour or so (“Simon only likes it when it’s Kentucky”, he says and you understand the need for some delicacies of this life staying the same, no matter what.), and then he asks you if you’d like to eat something. 

You and Johnny share a plate of cheese fries. 

The fries are oversalted(the perfect drunk food, but unfortunately you haven’t even worked up a buzz with your neglected drink), and the cheese is too gooey for you to not eat without getting your hands messy. You cringe at the stickiness, and Johnny laughs at your predicament and you wonder if it is possible for radiant, burning stars to be born as mortals. 

His boyfriend, Simon, does not join you in eating the food. 

His face is covered by a black surgical mask, and he is mostly quiet - letting his more jubilant counterpart lead the conversation. But conversation lulls between satiating your hunger and Johnny encouraging you to drink from his glass. (“Try it, bonnie. Real booze hits different”, he offers hospitably, and then he chuckles as you sputter and choke at the liquid burning your throat. At least he’s kind enough to pat your back, and then he orders a tall glass of water for your poor throat.)

Simon shakes as he dryly chuckles at the antics of his partner, and you feel heat travel down your stomach at how rough and rich his voice sounds. You find it oddly comforting against the commotion of the busy bar tonight. 

After you made a fool out of yourself, the masked man (with his dirty blonde hair and white scars that ran all over his face, only for half of it to be hidden by his black surgical face mask) is much more receptive to having a conversation with you. He seldom talks, but he doesn’t shy away from cracking a dark joke or two that almost make you choke on your own spit. His eyes are dark and intense, and sometimes when your own gaze meets his own, you find it almost impossible to look away from him - afraid that the moment you do, you’d find yourself alone and miserable at the bar again. 

There seems to be a pleasant silence settling between you three, and with a warm face and heavy limbs, you lean into the warm hand that cradles the small of your back and let it gently spell something illegible yet almost affectionate into your skin, the fabric of the blouse acting as a poor guard between your sensitive body and the touch you were not aware you craved until now. 

You look on with heavy eyes as the couple has a secret conversation between them with their eyes alone. Warm, lovely eyes that were scattered across the different spectrum of shades of brown. Eyes that pierced you and stripped you naked until you were nothing more than your deepest yearnings and fears. Eyes that carried a never-ending love for each other, and each other alone. 

They talk in furtive glances, and all you can do is give up on deciphering their language and let yourself enjoy the circles being drawn onto your back by Johnny’s teasing fingers. (You possibly cannot expect to unfurl all of that history and love between them just because you get to be a part of it for a few hours, can you now?)

After they have made a decision and with a nod of mutual acceptance, Johnny turns back to you and you straighten up due to the sudden attention. He looks at you with something akin to desire, and you can only feel your mouth turn dry as he asks you:

“Wanna get out of here?”

They hail a taxi for the three of you. 

Johnny is curious and impatient with his hands as he fondles you and leaves fluttering kisses up your neck. You should be mortified; getting frisky with a man you have known for only a few hours, in a taxi no less. But the attention makes it easier to swallow the humiliation that tries to consume your thoughts. Your back is pressed up against Simon’s side, who is all the more satisfied with watching his boyfriend paw at you like a cat fascinated with his new toy. You tilt your head back, and curse out when Johnny’s lips touch a spot that makes your knees buckle. And then you feel a hand engulf your throat, squeezing you gently and you think you might as well just forget to breathe all together. 

“Such a pretty girl”, Simon whispers against the shell of your ear, and you are glad that the only source of light on your way to their place are the shitty streetlights, because you cannot school your expression into one of indifference. (You like the praise a little too much.You like it out of Simon’s mouth even more.)

After what seems like an eternity of being teased and taunted by sweet words and lazy actions, the taxi finally comes to a stop and you send out a prayer to any deity out there who might be awake at this odd hour and willing to lend you an ear, because you’re sure that this night will leave you ruined. 

You get out of the vehicle on wobbly knees and Johnny is all the more willing to support you while he guides you to the apartment complex where he and Simon currently reside. Simon throws the crumpled bills on the lap of the driver, along with a generous tip for putting up with his frisky lover and the sweet girl they have taken home and for not kicking them out in the middle of nowhere late at night. Simon joins you both in the elevator, and Johnny is all the more eager to pin you against him and finally kisses you on the lips. 

You moan into the kiss, your hands finally tugging on his mohawk and bringing you closer and closer to his body. (Not close enough, your body screams. Never close enough, it screams again.) His hands are all the more eager to explore every soft curve of you; restless fingers groping your breasts and making you arch into him even more. 

“Fuck, bonnie.Yer so soft”, he remarks after breaking the kiss, and you can only pant at how breathless one kiss from this man had left you. You can only wonder what more he’s capable of making you feel. 

You are turned around to face Simon, who looks at your crumpled blouse and your messy hair and the neediness that drips from your eyes and your swollen lips. He holds your chin and tilts it to look at him, before commanding you, “Open up, sweetheart”. 

You comply without any complaints, wanting nothing more than to obey the masked man. 

You open your mouth, letting your pink tongue tease your parched lips as you wet them and he pries your mouth open wider with a firm hand on your jaw. His dark eyes look down on you, and you feel as if you’re going to be sacrificed and all you can hope is that he likes the offering you have in store for him. (You you you, you offer him all of you.)

“Suck on it”, he orders and you swallow the thumb he offers you - letting you soothe your oral fixation while you impatiently resist the urge to tap your foot against the floor as you wait for the elevator to finish its ascent. 

You twirl your tongue around it, wetting the finger in your mouth before you let it out with a resounding ‘pop’, a thin string of saliva connecting your soft lips and the thumb. Your eyes look up at him in reverence, pleading with him to reward you for your good behavior. 

“Fuckin’ hell”, he rasps out, and he almost leans forward, almost closes the distance between you both when the elevator lets out a ring and stops on the designated floor. 

Through drunk giggles and impaired body coordination, you follow the men as they lead you to their apartment. The moment the door closes behind them (locked carefully by Simon, while Johnny guides you inside), they’re back onto you - clinging to your body like you’re the anchor that grounds them in the storm of life. 

And it feels nice to be needed like that, if only for a moment. 

You’re on your knees on the floor as you wait for Simon to do something.

You are naked - your clothes peeled off from your body after Simon unzipped it for you and Johnny had been all the more eager to palm your breasts in his hands - warm and calloused and greedy for more. 

Your blouse is discarded somewhere on the floor long forgotten.

(“Lovely tits”, Johnny had groaned as he had undressed you, and you thanked yourself for wearing a somewhat decent bra today. )

You sit waiting - a paragon of virtue and patience as you look up at the men who would be ultimately ruining you tonight. They talk in eyes again, and you feel a pang of irritation at your inability to decipher all that is said between them with just a single look. 

Your arms are folded across your chest - a decision you had swiftly taken after feeling a wave of self-consciousness hit you in full force. You can feel your ankles getting numb at the posture - the pins and prickles forcing you to momentarily shift your weight from the ball of your feet to your knees, taking the lack of notice from either men as an incentive to ensure you don’t end up with numb legs while you wait for them to finish whatever secretive talk they are having without words. 

Simon turns towards you and notices you struggling on your knees, and then he reaches for one of the pillows scattered near the headboard of their Californian-sized bed. He asks you gently, “Get up from the floor, lovie”, and you do, wincing as you feel the blood circulation return to your sore feet. He puts the pillow on the ground near your feet, bending down to fluff it up a bit for your disposal. You thank him for the considerate action, before assuming your position below him again - the pillow cushioning your knees and providing you much needed relief from the hard marble floor. 

“Look at me, lovie”, he commands and you follow him eagerly, tilting your head up to meet his dark eyes. He looks godly, hovering above you like an ethereal deity - his scarred hands and intimidating gait only gives your body the incentive to feel the thrum of desire in your bloodstream as it flows south, making you ready for him. 

For both of them. 

“A little help here, Johnny?” he beckons and the other man stands in front of Simon, shielding your view of him with his back as he helps the masked man take off his shirt, and if the muffled groans are anything to go by - they’re both kissing and you cannot even see Simon’s face. After a moment, he unzips his pants and lets the garment fall down to his ankles - leaving him in nothing but a dark pair of boxer briefs. 

Johnny falls down to his knees in front of him and Simon has his mask back on. Kneeling below him, he uses his mouth on his clothed cock, peppering him with soft kisses filled with drool and lust. Simon groans above him, letting his fingers card through the man’s mohawk as he encourages him with throaty noises to continue his actions. Eager to feel all of him, Johnny slides his thumbs into the band of his briefs as he slowly slides down the garment from his hips, letting it pool around his ankles as well. From where you’re seated, you can see how thick Simon is, and you cannot help the way your mouth waters at the idea of being used by him. 

You snap out of your thoughts when Simon pulls Johnny onto his feet by his mohawk, forcing him to bare his neck to the taller man and you swear you can hear him whimper when Simon catches his throat with his other hand before giving it a light squeeze. 

The sight before you is nothing short of heavenly. 

“Eager, are we?” he taunts him, taking his breath away with just a squeeze of his fingers and he lets out a throaty hum as he eyes up his partner, noticing the semi he’s been sporting in his jeans ever since he got a taste of you. 

“But it’s her turn”, he motions to you and you straighten your back as both men look back at you. 

“C’mere love”, he calls out to you, and you get down to your hands and knees, willing to crawl to him if that is what it will take for him to let you touch him, feel him under your fingertips. 

He shakes his head, stopping you in your tracks.

“No, bring that pillow with you too”, he orders you, “Don’t want your knees to get sore now, do we?”

You feel his hands pull at your hair gently as he brings out his still hard cock out of the confines of your soft mouth. Your lips are sheen with spit and pre-cum and the running makeup paints a debauched picture of you before these men. 

So perfect. So ruined. And all theirs for the night. 

You look up at him with teary eyes and longing and Simon is almost tempted to allow you to keep going, to let himself finish in your warm, soft mouth. But he has quite a night planned for the both of you(You and Johnny, Johnny and you - consuming his thoughts and mind and even his heart.), and he’d rather not finish in a handful of pumps before you. 

“Don’t pout at me, pretty girl”, he chides you playfully, his chest heaving as he takes in deep breaths to soothe the fire in his lungs that you have invoked within him.

You whine noncommittally, eyes focused on him and only him - and it almost shakes him to his core how much he likes having your attention all for himself. (Greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy, greedy-)

“Gotta get you ready for the both of us, yeah?” you nod eagerly at his statement, and then you feel a pair of arms around your waist lift you up in the air and you shriek as you’re thrown on the soft mattress, bouncing lightly at the impact as your head falls back on the bed. 

“Johnny!” you scream out in surprise, almost tempted to scold him for scaring you but his calloused fingers trace your curves and they tickle your skin that makes it hard for you to control yourself. You let out a soft giggle as the man hovers above you, letting his hands map out every little scar, every little mole, every little mark on your soft skin. 

He grins at you, before bending down and taking your lips in a soft kiss - growling a little as he tastes Simon on your lips. Pulling away, he looks down on you again as he cages you between his arms. 

“Hi there, bonnie," he whispers breathlessly. 

“Hi there, handsome”, you whisper earnestly, before turning your head to the side and kissing the inside of his wrist. 

“Johnny will help you get ready. Won’t you, Johnny?” Simon asks, and Johnny groans as he lowers himself down over your body till his eyes line up with the hem of your soft black panties. You exhale soundly in anticipation, propping yourself onto your elbows so your head is up and your eyes gaze into Johnny’s warm brown pupils. You let out an audible exhale when you feel his hands grab the meat of your inner thigh, before he leaves a tender kiss on it, letting out his tongue to taste your skin. Your head falls back on the pillow below you, and your hands find purchase in the luscious locks of his mohawk as Johnny lets his tongue rile you up by licking and kissing every inch of your exposed skin, avoiding where you needed him the most on purpose. 

“So sweet”, his teeth lightly bite the meat of your inner thigh, and you wince at the pain before whimpering. 

“So pretty”, his fingers play with the flimsy fabric covering your cunt, slowly tugging them to the side and revealing how needy you are for him. For both of them. 

“Johnny, please”, you beg him so sweetly with your fingers tugging on his hair, that he finally gives in to your demands with no further ado. 

It isn’t long until Johnny is fucking you with all he has. 

You have your face buried sideways into the pillow and a leg propped up on his strong shoulder, the position offering him a chance to fuck you deeper that your fingers or any half-hearted partner ever has. 

The pillow is wet from the sweat and spit and tears it has soaked up from you, and you bite the fluff of it, trying your best to mute your incomprehensive noises down - lest the nice couple fucking you right now get a noise complaint from their neighbours tomorrow - but to no avail. 

It’s like Johnny is on a personal quest to make you scream for everyone to hear. 

It also helps that Simon has taken it upon himself to fuck his boyfriend dumb, and what a sight it must be - Johnny fucking into you desperately and letting Simon control the rhythm of his hips as he fucks into him. You’d beckon that he probably has his tongue out - no man can survive fucking someone and getting fucked at the same time without letting it dumb him down like a mutt in heat. 

Too bad the room is pitch black for you to witness the filthy sight. 

At least the dark room allows Simon to take off his mask, even though it stings to know that you may never know the man behind the mask - may never remember the man who is giving you the best night of your life before you return back to your mundane life of spreadsheets, burnt coffee in styrofoam cups and manila folders the next morning. 

You feel your legs shake - the lethal amalgamation of pleasure and exhaustion coating your bones as you feel Johnny hit the spongy spot deep in you that makes you keel and beg into the mattress for the much overdue orgasm that has been building up inside you for the better part of the hour. 

He bends down, letting his tongue lick your neck and his sharp incisors drag over the taut skin as he mumbles about how pretty you sound when you’re fucked dumb. None of that matters to you right now, not when you’re this close to relief - but Johnny doesn’t oblige; either too dumbed down just like you to understand what you need, or denying you what you need on purpose - which is probably the cruelest thing he could fucking do to you tonight. 

You feel another pair of fingers slide up your thighs before said fingers finally map out your swollen clit amongst the mess of sweat and limbs and Simon uses his calloused fingertips to gently rub you until you’re crying and arching your back before you slide down back into the bed, your limbs sagging with relief as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Fuck, bonnie”, you hear Johnny grunt out, feel him fuck you rougher and feel his hands grope your breasts roughly, but you’re far away now - floating away in a strange, hazy headspace as you hear his groans before his hips finally stutter to a close and then he slumps forward, letting the brunt of his weight fall down on you. 

Simon follows him soon after, slowly pulling out from his partner with a soft ‘Fuck’.

You whine at the impact, pushing at his shoulders weakly as you urge him to get his weight off from your sore body. You sighed out when he eventually obliged, letting himself fall into bed beside you, his fingers gently playing with your messy hair. You feel his stubble tickle your face as he lands a soft kiss against your jaw, “You were so good for us, lass”. 

You preen at the praise, letting his soft words and touch comfort you as you slowly feel yourself regain control of your body and your mind, already missing how you felt just a moment ago. 

You can hear the running faucet in the bathroom next door, and listen to the doors creak and soft footfalls before Simon returns to the scene with a wet washcloth. He taps your knee and you part your legs obediently for him - feeling the wet cloth drag over your innermost parts as he wipes you clean before offering you a few face wipes kept near his nightstand, which you take gratefully and you wipe away the smudged makeup, smearing the ruined mascara all over your cheeks. You hear Simon sigh before he gently pries the thin wipe from your hands, taking it upon himself to help you clean up nicely. In the dim moon light peeking through the windows, you notice he has his mask back on, and you feel disappointed at how you haven’t been able to look at him. You feel Johnny’s fingers gently massage your scalp, and the tension in your shoulders leaves you promptly, making you sag into the soft mattress as he coos at you, occasionally kissing your cheeks. It’s almost enough to put you at ease. 

It’s not long before the boys clean up after themselves before they join you back in bed. Sandwiched between the two men, you feel exhaustion and the afterglow lull you into a false sense of security - and you almost feel like you’re cared for. 

You hadn’t been able to fall asleep, despite your best efforts. Your thoughts have been nothing short of cruel, and you only feel shame creep under your skin the more you think about how this night had transpired. 

You have desperately gone home of two stranger men (who are together, no less), sat down on your knees like a desperate whore (and liked it), had gotten naked for them (and let them see all of your curves and rolls and blemishes), and let them fuck you dumb till you almost forgot your damn name. 

And now you lie between them, unable to put your mind at ease and sleep away the second thoughts.

Mortification seems to be the least of your worries at the moment. 

The worst part seems to be the fact that you wished for nothing more than to prolong the facade of love and gratitude they had for you when they cleaned you up, only for it to be redirected to each other as they checked in on each other with hushed whispers and soft kisses, their intermingled hands serving you a bitter reminder that you cannot overstay your welcome. 

It’s them first. And then you. 

You are just another body they had invited to warm their bed for the night. 

You are quick to wiggle out of the bed, feeling your ears burn in embarrassment as you try your best to locate your discarded clothes on the cold bedroom floor. You find your skirt near the legs of the bed, your cotton panties not far off from there. Your blouse and bra lie near the door, and you’re almost dressed when you hear a light click and see the light of the table lamp illuminate the room in a soft yellow. Johnny blinks, still sluggish from his interrupted sleep as he rubs away the sleep from his eyes, and you stay standing, frozen in your step. You almost feel guilty for waking him up. Were you not quiet enough?

You feel like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar by her mother. 

“Yer leavin’?” he asks with a helpless look on his face, and you almost walk back into his arms.

Almost go back to the space they have created for you - between them. 

The clock reads a quarter past three when they both offer to drive you home. 

It’s not long before Simon wakes up from the commotion. (You turn around and train your eyes on the wall, waiting until you’re certain that his face is covered - having taken the hint that he would not welcome the idea of revealing his identity to you yet.) Soon enough, they’re both asking you why you’re up and leaving and the sincerity in their voices almost convinces you that they want you here. 

But you use work as an excuse to go back home, and despite how obvious that lie is, Simon insists on driving you home nonetheless. (You almost turn him down, but Johnny pipes in, “There’s not gonna be a whole lotta cabs for ye to hail. Let us make sure our lady reaches home safe,”, and you feel your walls crumble slightly, feel your very foundation of self-hatred and pity shake at how he addresses you as theirs. As if you’re now a part of them, like they’ve been a part of each other for years.)

They ask you to stay anyway, promising to drop you off to your home first thing in the morning - bribing you with promises of cuddles in your sleep and breakfast in bed; promising you intimacy you’re wholly undeserving of, and you cut them off swiftly as you tell them that you’d rather be at home right now so that you can wake up later and go straight to office - no detours welcomed. 

Reluctantly, they comply.

So you let them both escort you out of the apartment building and you stand with Johnny while Simon revs up his car and lets the engine warm up before letting you both sit inside. Johnny naturally assumes his place beside Simon, sitting in the passenger seat and you sit in the backseat. You almost feel apprehensive about telling them your address, but your rattled brain cannot seem to care about it - too tired and strung up to give a shit about ‘stranger danger’. 

Simon types out your address on the phone and he soon follows the path - the soft hum of the engine making you succumb to the tiredness you feel and you lie down on your side, the leather seat of the car cushioning your now-throbbing head and you cannot help but close your eyes just for a moment. 

After a few minutes, you hear Johnny talk about buying groceries and he asks out loud if his boyfriend would like to add anything to the list. Simon softly replies back with a few additions - whey protein, some bananas, pancake mix, shower gel and a room freshener spray. Johnny mulls over it before recalling some more things they need to buy soon. (“Dusting cloths. Manure. Oh, gotta get some stuff from the hardware store too!” “Don’t forget to get some cereal and protein bars.” “Roger that, Lt.”)

The conversation lulls. And then it begins anew. 

Simon asks Johnny if he’d like to have biscuits and gravy for breakfast, and he lets out an almost disappointing groan at his atrocious food choices. (Or so he tells him.) Instead, Johnny suggests they have some hash browns. (“Gotta get that carb in for the long day ahead!” and Simon just chuckles dryly at his reasoning.)

Then, they talk some more - about work and people. About how they’d need to go back to work, and how they’d miss staying home together. About how they should get some cigars for ‘Price’, whoever that may be. About how ‘Gaz’ is vacationing in Italy with his family. About how they should have a vacation the next time they get a break that lasts them more than a week. 

They hold hands - at least Johnny does, and he brings his partner’s hand to his face, softly kissing his knuckles, and that is when your curiosity wins over as you open your eyes to witness the sickly sweet scene of two men, two souls being in love. Johnny looks at him like Simon’s his entire universe - and 

You shut your eyes quickly, feeling like an outsider between them both. 

That’s maybe because you are one, your brain supplies you with this thought rather unkindly and you dig your nails into your palms to distract yourself from it. 

The scene oddly enough reminds you of your parents when they were still in love and when you were young and sleeping in the backseat after an exciting evening at the city fair. It is far too domestic and tender for an outsider like you to intrude upon, and so you keep your eyes shut - unwilling to witness them and get your heart broken again. 

As their conversation fades to silence again, you bravely open your eyes - squinting in the dark as the only source of light are the street lights outside. You witness Simon with his hand on Johnny’s thigh, his thumb drawing soft circles against the soft cotton of his black joggers. You witness Johnny humming to himself with a satisfied smile on his face as he occasionally looks at Simon with love in his eyes. Pure, unconditional love brimming in his brown, almond eyes. And when you look at Simon, his eyes reflect the same - unfiltered affection and absolute devotion; all these emotions reserved for the love of his life. His only love of his life. 

It makes you sick. 

Sick with yearning. Sick with the green monster of envy. 

You’re so sick with it all. 

This time when you close your eyes, you feel a tear drip down your nose as you let the soft whirr of the engine and Johnny’s humming act as the lullaby you needed to hear before you sleep.

You feel someone shake you softly by your shoulder when you come into consciousness. 

“Wake up, dove”, you hear Simon call you, “We’re here already”. 

You stare up at him as he hovers over you from outside the car. His masked face gives little away about how he’s feeling at the moment, but you feel embarrassed all the same - for intruding upon them and for sleeping in their car as they drove you home half-asleep and still in their pajamas. 

You get up and use the back of your hand to wipe away any drool, snot or tears you might’ve let out while you were out like a light in the backseat of their car. The opened car door lets in the chilly night wind, and you shiver at the drop in temperature. 

“Here, have this”, he offers you a windcheater jacket - and you gratefully take it and zip it up till the collar of the clothing lightly brushes your chin.  He extends his hand to you, and you take it  - letting his calloused palm warm up your cold fingers as he escorts you out of the vehicle. Once you’re out on the concrete pavement, you notice Johnny leaning against one of the many lamp posts scattered across your street. He’s rubbing his hands for some warmth, and the yellow streetlights act like a halo around his tousled mohawk. He’s angelic. 

The steady echo of your footfalls catches his attention, and he turns to look at you with such warmth in his eyes that you falter in your steps for a moment. His kind, blue eyes look at you like you’re the moon - like you’re something familiar and he’s known you forever. 

You do not know what to make of it. 

“Had a nice sleep, lass?” he asks you casually, and you feel the tip of your ears warm up in embarrassment. 

You nod demurely, before responding, “Yeah, I did. I’m so sorry I troubled you with escorting me back home”. 

“Don’t apologize”, Simon speaks up as he rests a gentle hand on your left shoulder, before he joins Johnny in standing in front of you. He looks at you with an unreadable look, and you worry that he can see what you don’t wish anyone to notice. That he can tell. 

“We had to make sure our bonnie reached her home safe”, Johnny quips, and you feel your resolve crumble just a little bit - his honeyed words coaxing you to hug him and it catches him off guard, just a little. To feel your arms wrap around his body, to feel your heart beat so fast before falling into synch with his

“Thank you”, and you mean it - for taking care of you, for making you forget your shitty office and your shitty job for the night, for driving you back home, for showing you what love is (even though it burnt you from inside to see what they have and know that you’d never have that). 

You’re thankful to them for a lot of things. 

You’re curled up on your side on the bed as you try to catch some sleep before the sun greets you from between the curtains over your window, but all attempts to go back to sleep fail you. 

You almost wish you hadn’t been woken up. You almost wish you were still in their car, letting them drive and talk to each other. You almost wish you hadn’t left their bed - letting their rough hands gently caress her into a peaceful slumber, feeling their love for each other fill her up. 

You should’ve at least gotten their number. 

It was worth a shot, and if they didn’t want anything to do with you after tonight, you’d have been able to console yourself with the possibility that you won’t have to see them in the future and get taunted by the very notion that you have been all too desperate and all too needy for someone to love you. 

But you didn’t, and you caress your own arm with light fingers as you convince yourself that it was all for the best that you hadn’t done anything about it. 

This was all for one night. They just needed someone to warm their beds for a night, and you did just that. Wishing for it to be something more is just plain stupid on your part. They’ve loved each other for a lifetime, and you’ve known them for only a night. You cannot fathom carving a place for yourself between Johnny and Simon. Simon and Johnny. 

Not without becoming an unwanted third wheel - tolerated by the couple since they’re too courteous to tell you off. Not without becoming a placeholder - a human paperweight until a better man or a better woman comes along to be where they rightfully belong. With them. 

So you hug yourself tight with your nails digging into your arm, and gently rock back and forth in the same place on your bed, as you soothe yourself with empty words and tell yourself that what you did was a brave thing - and this was all for the best, even if it makes your chest feel like a hollowed out tree, empty from within. 

Note -

Got inspired by the poem - 'After the Threesome, They Both Take You Home' by Sue Hyon Bae cuz it resonated with how I have always been a bystander or a temporary placeholder between friends and couples alike - always fearing that I will never be able to experience love. Started writing this fic fuelled up on my personal thoughts and projections. Then, October came and seasonal depression knocked my ass out. Got back into writing it. Couldn't handle it well, so I rushed the ending. Bon apple tit, y'all. Or whatever the fuck they say in France.

[heliosundercover]

Oblivious dick Grayson

Dick, "Am I missing something?" Grayson. A great leader, brother, and friend. But he's horrible at picking up signals, even though he’s a flirt himself.

 

Dick had constantly fumbled the bag. He had a tendency to completely miss signals; it became a joke between his friends.

 

"Wait, you’re telling me she was giving me “fuck me eyes.” Ha, you’re hilarious,” Dick says in air quotes after being told some girl on the street was flirting with him, as if it were unbelievable that he gets female attention. 

 

But with you, he was suddenly hyper-aware, hoping that he wasn't missing something with you. 

 

"Was she flirting or being nice?" He sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Today he bumped into you at the supermarket, and you complimented his hair, saying that it looked soft. You even leaned in super close, like you wanted to touch it.

"Dick I don't know. How'd you get that from what do you want on your pizza, dude?" Jason replies, rubbing his temples. 

 

Everyone thought this crush on a random civilian was getting a bit ridiculous, especially since she was clearly interested. But in his mind, he couldn't fumble this one. You were different, like you were too good for Gotham when you first met; he knew almost instantly but somehow missed the blatant attraction you had for him.

Dick wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight. 

But that night, he started wondering if it was real. When he first saw you, you were sitting in a bar drinking with a group of friends when he walked in, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you, and neither could you. At some point, you said fuck it and went up to him, chatting it up; it was an instant connection. But of course he missed your signals, thinking you weren't interested at first. It wasn't until you wrote your number on his hand and hearts around it that he realized you were attracted to him, but somehow he still felt like the guest could be friendly. The simple gesture has him thinking the entire night.

 

It took so long for him to ask you out officially; he had been too afraid to ask you out, afraid that he had misinterpreted your feelings. But when you agreed, his face lit up. Weeks of torment were finally over. You agreed to go to a small cafe for something casual.

 

Dick was on mission today. He was on a mission to not miss a single thing about you. Over the past few weeks, he has been meticulously honing his observation skills, pouring over self-help books, and practicing mindfulness. He's been so deep in this self-imposed mission that he has ended up ironically missing the most important thing: your clear, no longer subtle, signals of affection. 

 

You look up from your phone, and your lips curl into a smile that could make any man's heart flutter uncontrollably. You tilt your head gently, and he swears your eyes shimmer with a playful glint. That's your signal. It's always been your signal. But Dick, bless his soul, misses it entirely. He's too engrossed in everything, down to the intricate details, missing the big picture in the process. 

It was driving you crazy. Weeks of flirting felt like it was going nowhere, then suddenly he asked you on a date. It was so confusing. It had you thinking you were the issue. 

"Do you want to order anything?" Dick asks, his eyes glued to the menu. You giggle softly. He was cute, all focused like that, like the menu was the most interesting thing in the world. Gently shaking your head, suddenly it clicked. He was just nervous, overthinking, or both. After you've been trying to get him to notice the signals for weeks now, Dick was just being a bit awkward.

 

"Hey, Dick," you murmur softly, extending her hand across the table to gently touch his, causing him to finally look up. You meet eyes; you can see him searching your face for anything, and you giggle again.

"Im going to be honest here, Dick," you squeeze his hand softly. 

"I've been flirting with you for weeks, and I can't tell if you're not interested or what, but it's driving me mad."

 

His eyes go wide, and the irony of the situation kicks in almost immediately. This whole time, he was so focused on not missing something that he missed weeks of flirting that he wanted to kick himself. 

"No, no, it's just," he laughs, like the weight of the world is off his shoulders. 

 

"I like you too; I like you a lot, actually, but I was so afraid of reading the situation wrong that I ended up doing just that."

 

He laughs again. His laugh sends relief down your spine, so you weren't crazy; he was just overthinking it. It was kind of cute knowing that you made him flustered. 

 

The date pretty much flies by after you get over that not-so-small hurdle. The connection had been there for weeks, so it was easy for you two to talk. And when the date ended, neither of you wanted it to end, so he walked you home.

 

"I really liked spending time with you. Do you want to see me again?" 

He asks when you get to your apartment door. The question makes you roll your eyes. 

 

"No, I don't want to see you again," you say jokingly, but you see the panic on his face.

"Of course I want to see you again, Dick. I really, really like you."

You step closer to him, and suddenly the hallway is fifty degrees hotter. Dick looks down at you, and his breath hitches.

You stand in the hallway for what feels like eternity, just looking at each other. 

 

"Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you right now?" Dick breaks the silence. 

 

"I thought you'd never ask."

His hand cups your cheek, and his eyes look so beautiful that even in the horrible lighting of your apartment building's hallway, they never leave yours. You suddenly realize how close you are standing—close enough to see your reflection in his gaze. You see anticipation, desire, mirrored in your own eyes, and something else. Something deeper, something that makes your heart flutter. It was a really intimate moment. 

 

But Dick just had to make a joke.

"Just making sure I'm not missing something, and you like me, right?"

You can't help but giggle, playfully pushing him away.

 

"Yeah, this means I like you."

Laughing softly, you place one more kiss on his cheek before going into your apartment.

 

Dick couldn't help but celebrate silently when your door was fully shut. When he got back to the manor, he had a noticeable smile on his face.

 

Damian looks at Jason with a raised eyebrow when they see him happily skipping by. 

“So do we think that girl is real? Orrr…”

 

“For his sake, yes.” 

Jason looks back at what he was doing, and the room is back in a comfortable silence. 

So i just wanted to say thank you sm for loving my Jason fic! I started on wattpad and stuff on wattpad takes forever to get noticed/ popular i look forward to writing more but i genuinely expected it to not take off how it did:)

Im working on a thank you piece with more dc characters called “how they talk about you”

[auroralwriting]

can’t take my charm ౨ৎ

ellie williams x singer!fem!reader

synopsis: you’re jackson’s very lovely performer, every wednesday, friday, and sunday nights performing at the local bar for the whole town. ellie is, as always, enamored with you.

haha yes this is based off of lucy gray from the hunger games.. i have multiple obsessions

“hey, we got ‘bout five minutes till we go on,” your bandmate, claire, said as she stuck her head in the bathroom you resided in. you were adjusting your outfit and hair, making sure you looked perfect.

you hummed for a second, “alright, i think i’m ready.”

“and you look amazing as always,” claire smiled, leading you to the rest of the band.

over the years, tommy helped you gather instruments and other useful things such as your microphone to help you perform. you really owed him.

you grabbed your mic and as you all walked out onto the small, makeshift stage, everyone cheered. you hooked your microphone up to the cord.

“hey, ya’ll!” you say cheerfully into the mic. “how’re we feelin’ tonight?”

applause and whistles followed, and you smiled. “are you ready to hear some music?” again, more applause.

you heard you drummer start counting in as the band began to play. everyone in the crowed started to move, some dancing, some just swaying to the beat while watching you.

you quickly found those perfect eyes staring at you from the bar. that’s where ellie sat, watching you with a smile on her face. you always caught her eye. sometimes you’d talk after your set. she always complimented you. you complimented her. there was a mutual pinning between you both.

“can’t take my charm, can’t take my humor,” you start to sing. everyone starts to cheer as your voice entered. you saw ellie whistle.

“thinkin’ you’re so fine, thinkin’ you can have mine, thinkin’ you’re in control,”

the song ended soon after, cheer and applause erupting.

this next song, well, it was a doosey. your bandmates didn’t take long to catch onto your and ellie’s infatuation with each other. they encouraged you to write a song about it. and here you were, about to perform it for everyone, including her.

“now ya’ll, this next one is somethin’ special,” you begin to say. everyone quiets softly to listen.

“this one’s about someone, someone i feel’s just too special to not have a song,” small cheers erupt.

you nod to your band who slowly starts the song. it didn’t take long for partners to start dancing. it was a good song to do that to.

“everyone’s born as clean as a whistle,” you sing. “fresh as a daisy, not a bit crazy,”

ellie’s eyes pour into your own. you can’t peel yours from hers. your singing directly into her soul.

“this world, it’s dark, this world, it’s scary. i’ve taken some hits, no wonder i’m weary. it’s why i need you. you’re as pure as the driven snow.”

as you sing, jesse sits next to ellie, nudging her. she doesn’t look away from you.

“lover girl’s written you a song, eh?” jesse teases.

“shut up,” ellie remarked softly. she wanted to hear you. she wanted to soak in every word you sang, memorize it and keep it forever.

jesse just smiled and walked back to dina, who couldn’t help but giggle at ellie’s reaction to your song.

it ended with your words, the biggest applause of the night erupting. you give a small bow, not pausing to speak but allowing the band to start playing another upbeat song.

it went on like this for a few sets. once your band ended and a duo went to take your place, you looked at claire nervously.

“girl,” its like she read your mind, “go talk to her. she couldn’t take her eyes off ya.”

you nodded and went into the crowed of people, trying to push through everyone to get to the bar. you could just see it, but it was loud, and everyone was dancing.

suddenly, your hand was captured in someone else’s being dragged to the bar. you knew it was ellie guiding you.

one you emerged from the crowd, there she was. she got up on her seat and patted the one next to her. you sat down and turned your seat to her.

“hey pretty girl,” ellie flirted. “you sounded amazing.”

“thank you, els.” you smiled bashfully.

there was a pause. you wanted to ask her about the song. her song.

“i loved the song,” it was like ellie read your mind. “it was beautiful.”

you looked down, “it’s for you,”

“for me?” ellie teased, “little old me?” she laughed at your embarrassed face. she took your hands in hers. “i loved it, sweets. i wish i could hear it over and over again.”

you shrugged, smiling a little. “then just ask,”

ellie raised an eyebrow at you, and you got the hint. you laughed slightly and leaned closer to her.

“everyone wants to be like a hero,” you sing while laughing with ellie. “the cake with the cream, the doer not dreamer,”

“i fucking love your voice,” ellie smiled. “it’s so beautiful. just like you,”

your face turned bright red at this. “i think your beautiful, too,”

“maybe sometime i can play guitar and you can sing for me,” ellie suggests, nudging you with her shoulder, now incredibly close. legs touching, arms basically touching.

“you play?” you ask as she nods.

“joel taught me,” she smiles.

her fingers find the bottom of your chin, turning your head to face her. neither of you said anything, you didn’t have to. it didn’t take long before her lips were pressed against your own.

“such a little charmer,” ellie teases once you pull away, “feeling me in with a song,”

you laugh, “i already had you before that,”

“yeah,” ellie nods, hand in yours, her thumb rubbing your hand softly, “you did.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞 [Needy]

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, IUD mentioned, I repeat, this is bare sex but still protected, Don't be stupid in real life, penetrative sex, implied breeding kink, knotting, implied oral, kook breaks the sofa but keeps going oops

Length: 2k? I think so.

Main work

This belongs to a different Oneshot, but can be read on its own.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Something that Jungkook has proven to you, is that he is a way better lover than anyone you've ever had before.

And another thing both of you are facing nowadays, is the more.. upsetting part of your relationship, at least in the way it's viewed by others.

Like an invitation.

You can't go to any club or bar without being watched- mainly since Jungkook doesn't make it a secret that he's head over heels in love with you. And that in itself isn't new- omega on omega relationships are becoming more and more common, just like any other random pairing of sub-genders. But that doesn't mean that the sexualization of it doesn't still happen.

It's not taken seriously- mainly by alphas.

Seen as a connection made simply out of desperation and need, you're constantly approached by alpha's who think they can 'give you what you need'- when in reality, you both already have all you could ever want.

But you're still seen as nothing but two lost souls who are in need of guidance.

Sometimes, you wonder how Jungkook can stay so confident and strong when his masculinity and most of all role as your partner is constantly challenged. As if he's not the right fit for you, he's always dismissed as nothing but a current temporary fix for your lack of an appropriate partner. You're not sure if he's just silently suffering from these words and actions- or if he's really that strong.

Maybe the answer is in the heated kisses he offers you inside of his car every time you leave some sort of social setting where something like that has occurred. Maybe the answer is in the desperate way he touches you after such events, in the sheer need to have you close and marked up.

Maybe he's not at all unaffected- but he just knows how to reassure himself.

"Why don't you wanna go out with Yoongi and the others?" Jungkook wonders innocently, hugging you from behind. "Jimin's there too." He tries to remind you, but you shake your head.

"I don't like going to those clubs." You mumble, having learned to be honest and upfront with Jungkook. "I don't know, I just don't wanna." You shrug.

"It's cause of them, isn't it?" He asks, sitting on the kitchen counter, watching your shoulders slump down, hands holding your cup of juice. "Does it bother you?" Jungkook asks, and you want to shake your head- but he wasn't finished in his sentence.

"Does it bother you that I'm not an alpha?" He asks, and you look at him, and spot something you didn't think you would.

He's not looking at you, but at your lips. He's avoiding eye-contact. He's pretending to be confident.

"No." You shake your head, walking closer to him after putting the empty cup in the sink, moving between his legs to hug his body and lean your head against his stomach. "It bothers me that it bothers everyone else." You instead mumble. "It's not fair."

"Do you think you'd feel better going out if you had an alpha partner?" Jungkook asks, hand on your shoulder, always caring, always soft, always gentle.

"No." You deny.

"No?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Because then it wouldn't be you."

At that, Jungkook jumps from the counter, walks you back until your back hits the small table in the kitchen, his hands holding your cheeks, before he kisses you, hungry, a smile interrupting him constantly as his piercings touch your lips, colder than the rest of him. "You're so sweet." He chuckles, eyes hooded, but full of warmth. "I love you so much." He purrs, before he captures your lips once more, needing to be closer again, grip on the back of your thighs enough of a signal to you to jump up into his grasp, as he walks you barely to the couch in the living room, where you both almost trip and fall.

This is where you want to be. You don't ever need to leave this apartment, as long as Jungkook's here.

"Would you like to spend your heat with me?" He asks mostly through a breath, while he runs his lips over your neck, hands already eager to rid you of your clothes.

"Yes." you breathe out, because of course you want to. There's no one else you'd want to spend it with, after all.

You don't need an alpha.

You just need him.

"Hm my timing could be better, huh?" He chuckles amused, hands sneaking into your shorts to push them down, not bothering to push them far enough for you to really properly get out of them- fabric caught at your ankles, along with your underwear. "I'll ask you later.." He purrs, hand between your legs. "...after I made sure you're stuffed full of my cum." He tells you with no shame, licking his lips.

So he knows.

"It was supposed to be a surprise." You whine, and he laughs openly, biting impishly at your mark he's left. It'll never stay forever unless he renews it time after time- a downside to him not having any alpha-genes in himself. But he would mark you up even if he didn't have to.

Because it's a promise he will give you time and time again.

A promise he'll receive from you as well, time and time again.

"Gotta get better at hiding things from me then, pretty baby." He chuckles, sucking marks onto your collarbone. "Or.. maybe not." He shrugs, adjusting himself while his hand works you up for him, when your hands sneak up his shirt.

"I don't wanna hide from you." You say, and he smiles, looking at you before he leans back to pull his shirt over his head.

"And I wouldn't ever want that either." He hums, kissing you again. "But-" He interrupts himself. "-You could've told me baby. I heard it hurts a lot to get it." He worries, and you shrug, moving your back a bit up so he can help you out of your sweater.

"It did." You say, as you remember the pain. "They said it wouldn't. But it really did." You tell him, and he playfully pouts, feigning worry.

"Oh my poor baby, doing all of that just so I can breed her.." He chuckles, joking while you roll your eyes. "But really." Jungkook says, now a little more serious. "Next time you wanna do stuff like this- tell me."

"I wanna get my nipples pierced, maybe." You blurt out bluntly, and his eyes grow wide like two moons, hands stilling in the act of undoing the belt of his jeans.

"Really?" He asks, resuming his task, standing up to step out of his pants, before he rids himself of his underwear as well.

"Yeah." You nod. "There's cute jewelry for it." You hum, watching him get close again, leaning over you, palms grabbing at your tits as if to imagine it.

"I can see it suiting you well." He nods, leaning back to admire your chest in his hands. "Two little hearts. Pink gemstones." He tilts his head a little, thumbs running over your by now hardened nipples. "Hm, the more I think about it, the better it gets." He laughs, especially when he notices you growing restless from his antics, and the shameless display of his already twitching length.

How can he act so unbothered when he's clearly hard and leaking already?

"Koo!" You complain, feet reaching for him, and he laughs.

"Very cute." He comments, aligning himself at your entrance, covering the tip in your arousal. "But I think I wanna hear you say my name a little different.." He growls down at you, boldly licking at your neck before he pushes himself inside, a sigh escaping him at the feeling of you bare.

Who said you need an alpha?

By now he knows how much you can take- how you like it, even though he's still interested in trying out new things every single time. This time however, he's chasing a different thing, other than seeing you fucked out-

because with your IUD in place, he can finally, truly, claim you as his, and present a new kind of possession over you wherever you go. A different smell that he knows every alpha will be aware of-

a sign to back off, because you're not up for grabs, and neither is he.

The feeling of you without any kind of barrier makes him dizzy- causes his mind to fog up like the windows of his car that one time you two had sex in it and almost broke something in the process. He can't help himself.

He's a strong guy, and he puts his all into his love for you- the physical aspects, as well as the emotional ones.

And maybe that's why he should be aware of the way the old couch is protesting rather loudly against his hands bracing his body against the siderest, item of furniture not meant to be tested to this degree- at least not anymore, after it's already way too long lifetime.

But he can't bring himself to care, instead mesmerized by his dick entirely coated by your arousal, clear strands of it keeping his pelvis connected to you, sounds obscene between the two of you.

Your heats are close, after all. It's no wonder your body is reacting like this.

It'll be surely a test once he actually goes through the whole ordeal with him. Because down the line, he won't be able to fully give you what an alpha would be able to. And neither can you.

Will you somehow manage, still?

You don't care.

Right now he's pushing his hips as deep as they can go, jaw clenched, growls escaping him while you grip his arms, fingers digging into his biceps.

And then, something crunches- Jungkook's instincts catching him just in time to instead hold himself up with his hands next to your head, mind unable to really care right now what exactly he broke on the small sofa-

because he's so goddamn close. He can't stop now- he'll fuck you on the floor if he has to, but he needs to keep going.

It's another hint at his own heat approaching. Because actually knotting you is becoming harder and harder to do without the proper hormones being released.

"Jungkook-" You whine, and he nods, well aware, knowing that you're already coming undone beneath him, core clenching around his cock buried deep inside- but he's still just clawing at the very edge, unable to fall off. "-It's-" You start, but he shakes his head.

Stubborn.

He doesn't need an alpha. He needs you, no one else.

"I can." He growls, cutting you off in frustration, sweat building from the effort he puts into his thrusts, eyes closed. "I can.!" He grits out between clenched teeth-

and in that moment, you have an idea, pulling him down by his neck before you bite him back, marking his neck.

And it does the trip, if his drawn out whimper is anything to go by, knot swelling as he pushes himself in deep, cum coating your insides, filling you up.

You're breathing heavily, as Jungkook adjusts you both to lay down somewhat comfortably.

"What was that sound?" You wonder quietly, fingers playing with his hair.

"Me cumming or the sofa breaking?" He chuckles, clearly on cloud nine now that he's satisfied.

"You broke the sofa?" You worry, and he laughs.

"I think? I'm not sure." He shrugs, legs pulling you closer. "I'll check after I cleaned you up." He hums against your lips, and you giggle.

"I can just go clean up myself while you fix the sofa." You suggest- though his eyes are sharp and dark with desire, still.

"That's not the way I want to clean you up though, pretty baby." He purrs-

causing your own arousal to be set aflame again.

...though you do end up changing furniture, no longer trusting the old sofa to go through another round.

[kitchenisking]

Day 3

The Pot Of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: T, Words: 8,881, sterek)

Stiles meets his first Hale when he's seven, and the most important Stilinski-Hale twenty years later.

~

In which Derek's family meets the love of his life years before he does, but Derek still gets the better end of the bargain.

As You Lay Dying by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,360, sterek)

Seven excruciatingly long days since Mexico: Take Two, and Stiles still couldn't get the sound of Derek's breath rattling wetly in his lungs out of his head. He heard it in his sleep, over the the pounding rain and the sound of Malia breathing softly beside him. He heard it when he was wide awake, over the din of crowded hallways and classrooms, cutting through the noise of the last lacrosse game of the season and the bustle of the locker room.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours, give or take, and Stiles had yet to wipe the sight of a bloodied and dying Derek from behind his eyelids. He saw it with every blink and sometimes even when his eyes were open and each time it made his chest feel like it was caving in.

Soulsick by theroguesgambit - (Rating: T, Words: 3,476, sterek)

Derek loathes this idiot of a soulmate, whoever they are. For not coming to Stiles’ call, for being too useless do just to this one simple thing, for failing Stiles, proving how utterly unworthy they are before they’ve ever met him. -- Stiles is cursed with a disease that will eventually destroy his soul unless his soulmate helps strengthen it. The pack performs a ritual to call his soulmate to his side. But days pass and no one appears... 

Maybe they're already here?

Making love is how we'll pray by lanalua - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,742, sterek)

Stiles and Derek perform a ritual in the woods.

In a Moment of Vulnerability by cloudsarefluffy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 87,097, sterek)

While in New York City to visit his aspiring and success-hungry friend Scott, who left for an internship he fought for over several years ago, Stiles runs into an alpha with a devilish reputation and a dark, tantalizing look that precedes him. Couple that with horny loneliness and failed suppressants, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a one-night stand that will set the bar forever.

But what if forever isn’t something that the one person you’ve given yourself to wants? What if a forever is somehow growing inside of you after a few months pass and a planned heat is missed? What if you don’t know what to do and there’s only so much chocolate that can soothe an aching heart before you feel like you've got morning sickness all over again?

This is a story about how Stiles loses his virginity alongside himself, and somehow, he manages to find something he never thought he’d ever have along the way.

Looking forward by Smowkie - (Rating: T, Words: 6,953, sterek)

Derek’s cabin was small. Tiny, even. He liked it, sometimes he missed having a big house, like the one he had grown up in, but the cabin was good, comfortable, and he, well, it was somewhere to hide, somewhere no one would find him. Somewhere no one would bother him.

He was happy, though, sort of. Happier than in a long time, he had a comfortable little home, lots of land he could run on—and he did, shifted to his full wolf form and ran for hours, it was wonderful—and his life wasn’t bad at all.

Then one day, the 21st of December on his second year living there, Stiles came to visit.

Written for the prompt cuddles in a power outage.

I Want You to be Happy by lvmehtme - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,851, sterek)

Stiles' dad has finally founds someone and the way he looks at her like she hung the moon and the joy in his every smile after all these years is worth everything that she does to him in the dead of night when no one's looking.

I'm giving everyone a fair warning right now, there's statutory rape and psychological trauma in this fic. It ends happy, but it does get graphic. Please proceed with care.

loyalty. courage. integrity. by redhoodedwolf - (Rating: G, Words: 707, sterek)

“Derek what the fuck!”

“Hard first day?” Derek guessed. He pushed himself forward and extended a hand towards Stiles. “You can vent, I have time to listen.”

Little Kid Crush by orphan_account - (Rating: T, Words: 5,052, sterek)

“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.

“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.

“Tiles?” Derek repeats.

“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.

Witches Wrath by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,063, sterek)

Derek is cursed by witches giving him a hard problem. Nothing works, not cold showers, not his hand. He goes to Stiles for help, and the great friend he is Stiles won't turn him away.

[al-dusty33]

Don't know if I'm going to use this for my Jason Todd x reader story, but I wonder what everyone thinks of this.

Dialogue and scenes used from Arkham Knight, Arkham Knight: Genesis, Deadpool, and Batman: Under the Red Hood.

⚠️!Warning!⚠️: Torture, blood, branding, rotten/poisoned food, freezing, extreme violence with and without crowbar, electric shocks, waterboarding. Pretty much everything about Joker being a monster.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker struts over to the young, fractured Robin hanging by his wrists in the middle of the dimly lit room. It’s a beautiful, awful sight and the Clown Prince of Crime loves it.

“Wakey Wakey, Loverbird!” Joker cheerfully says as he gets closer to Jason.

The moment Jason hears his voice ringing in his ears, he whimpers and tries to shy away from the clown, but no amount of tugging on his restraints will allow him to escape.

It’s been… Two, no, three months since Jason fell into the clutches of the madman. Joker blackmailed Jason’s biological mother into turning him in before being betrayed herself after it was revealed Joker was never going to let her go. Despiste what she did, Jason couldn’t help but still love her.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker’s fingers ghost over the smooth metal bar of the branding iron, “Don’t look at me like that,” A cruel, twisted smile creeps up on Joker’s red painted lips, “Actually, do keep looking at me like that; it just makes it more fun.”

“What’s wrong, little bird? You think I’m going to hurt you?” His gloved fingertips briefly touch the glowing metal J to test how hot it is, “Why?” His head lolls back in a creepy, unsettling way as his green eyes stares deep into the very depths of Jason’s soul, “I’m not the bad guy here,” He shakes his head while almost mockingly saying, “Oh, no, no, no, no,” He walks closer to Jason then softly says, “It’s Batman. He’s abandoned you…” He gently, yet firmly, cups Jason’s chin then shakes the younger man’s head a little, “thrown you away like an unwanted puppy.”

Give him two lips like roses and clover (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker backs up and clasps his hands together like he was begging to someone, “Can I have him, daddy?” He asks in a playful, high-pitched voice, “Oh, please, please, please, please, please? I’ll take real good care of him.”

He turns around to act as the other person then continues speaking in a deeper tone of voice, “Anything to make you happy, princess,” He slowly turns his cruel attention toward Jason, “Just make sure people know he’s yours.”

He snaps his fingers then one of his goons walks into the room, removes Jason’s bound wrists from the hanging hook off the ceiling, and then lets Jason drop to the floor with a thud.

“We don’t want him to end up back here, do we?” He leisurely strides over to Jason, his grin twisting more and more cruel with each step.

With what little strength he has left, Jason tries to crawl into the shadows to bring some form of safety to himself. In some small, hopeful way, he believes Batman would be hiding in those shadows to save him.

Joker stops for a moment to taunt Jason by saying, “No we don’t, daddy,” He steps closer with the burning branding iron getting closer to the young man, “I want to keep him forever!”

Jason’s eyes widen in fear while he tries to crawl farther away. He feels all movement stopping the moment Joker’s foot lands on his back, and the fear he’s feeling intensifies, “No! No please!” He tries to push Joker off of him, but he has no strength left. Instead he continues to beg like a dog, “Please no! No!”

The sound of sizzling skin, Jason’s pained screaming, and Joker’s cruel laugh are the only horrifying sounds that can be heard inside the darkness.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Jason sits hunched over in a wheelchair with barbed wire keeping him in place. Through his ripped costume, he can feel it poking into him and making him uncomfortable; he has to be careful if he doesn’t want to open any veins or arteries.

A door opens behind him, his heart skips a beat thinking Batman was finally here, but the familiar, awful laugh quickly dashes that hope.

“Happy birthday, Jason!” Joker says cheerfully. He walks over to Jason with a pep in his step, “You’re a whole year older! How does that feel?” He sets down a plate of wiggling cake in front of Jason.

Is it really already his birthday or is Joker trying to warp his sense of time?

Don't have nobody to call my own (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker smiles down at Jason as he continues speaking, “Don’t you worry, Loverbird,” He snaps his fingers and the door behind Jason swings open, “I made sure to invite some friends for your big day!”

One by one, Jason sees other patients of Arkham Asylum fill the room.

Bane, Calendar Man, Clayface, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Victor Zsasz, Two-Face, and Scarecrow, all wearing birthday hats. On the looks of the faces visible, it’s obvious no one wants to be here, but they must be here for something else.

Please turn on your magic beam

“Happy Birthday to you~” The villains all start reluctantly singing to Jason, besides Joker who seems to have something up his sleeve for this event.

Jason looks down at the wiggling cake and he can see the crude writing of “Happy Birthday” on the cake and the worms trying to escape the brown frosting. The sight of it is sickening and he can feel his stomach churning, yet his mouth still watered at the sight of food.

Joker grabs a fistful of Jason’s dark curls and continues to sing happy birthday, “Happy birthday, dear Jason~ Happy birthday to you~” He leans in close to whisper in Jason’s ear, “Make a wish, pumpkin,” Before slamming Jason’s face into the cake.

The clown keeps Jason’s face in the cake for a couple more seconds, almost like he’s trying to suffocate the young man, before pulling his face away while laughing, “That never gets old!”

Joker lets Jason go then turns around, “I have somewhere to be; sorry for not staying longer for your big day,” He looks over his shoulder and smiles, “You have fun with your guests, but remember to brush your teeth, finish your homework, and be in bed by nine.”

And with that, the clown exits the room and leaves Jason with the other patients, who seem excited to have some “fun” with Jason; as evidenced by their sadistic smirks, Bane cracking his knuckles, and Zsasz playing with his sharp knife.

Jason can already feel the dizziness and sickness coming in.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Joker takes his time walking to the chest freezer sitting in the back of the walk-in freezer at the asylum. Walking just behind is Officer Frank Boles holding a flashlight. The officer was bought off by Joker when the clown first obtained the boy blunder six months ago to help keep Jason a secret from everyone else in the asylum and to the people outside.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

“Oh, lamb chop! You’ve been hiding in here for nearly half an hour,” Joker stops in front of the chest freezer. He flashes Officer Boles a crazy grin before opening the lid and taking a peek inside, “How are you feeling?”

Jason’s body was violently shivering, his nose was completely red, and his skin was pale, almost like a dead body. He can feel the light shining on him, but his eyes refuse to open too wide, “B-Batman…? Is that y-you?”

Joker reaches out and lightly taps Jason’s cheek, but due to how cold the younger man was, those small slaps hurt a lot. Joker leans his elbows on the edge of the opening then whispers, “Batman’s not coming to save you, Jason.”

“He’ll come…” Jason mutters through chattering teeth as his eyes peer up at Joker’s.

Joker leans back then rests his hands on the lip of the opening, “It’s been six months now, Jason,” He tilts his head in a cruel manner as his smile turns upward even more, “I think it’s time to face facts.”

Jason’s eyes narrow into a glare and he spits out, “S-Screw you!” Despite the cold, the fire still burns in his eyes, albeit a bit dim.

Joker laughs then pats Jason on the head, “That’s the spirit! You’re a real chip off the ol’ Bat block,” He looks down at his hand like he was checking his nails, even though he’s wearing gloves, “Not that it’ll do you any good.

Jason closes his eyes, almost like in a defeated way, “Why w-won’t you just kill m-me…?” He mutters slowly.

Give him the word that I'm not a rover

Joker acts shocked after hearing Jason’s question, “What? No, no, no, no,” He places his gloved hand on his chest to emphasize his point, “I’m not going to kill you,” He shrugs with a sadistic smirk on his face, “not yet anyway,” He leans closer with a big smile on his face and gently taps Jason’s frozen cheek, “You’re my sidekick now. Imagine it,” He waves his hand outward like he was trying to show Jason the scenario, “You and me, out on the streets, starting fights, picking on the weak, a regular dynamic duo,” He reaches into his coat pocket then pulls out a picture while saying, “Just like Bats and that new kid of his.”

Jason tried his hardest to shake his head in disbelief, but his neck felt like it was frozen solid, “No, h-he wouldn’t…” His voice is barely above a whisper.

Joker playfully smirks then tilts his head mockingly, “You think?” He looks down at the picture in his hand, “So this isn’t Batman then?” He shows the contents of the picture to Jason, “The pointy ears are usually a dead giveaway.”

“No…” Jason can feel any hope he has left for Batman to save him slowly draining away.

Joker carefully puts the picture back into his coat pocket, “I didn’t want to show you that photo, really I didn’t,” He looks down at Jason with a mock look of pity, “But, well it was the only way for you to get closure,” He crosses his arms and looks off as he continues speaking, “Now I know it hurts but sometimes,” A big, cruel, sadistic smile appears on his face as he backs up from the chest freezer, “you gotta be cruel to be kind,”

Joker gives a nod to Officer Boles then the officer closes the chest freezer, leaving Jason cold and alone in the dark.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone

Jason’s hands is tied behind his back, he’s bloody and bruised, it hurts to breathe, his vision is blurry, and his head feels like it was being split open.

Through his daze he looks up in time for the crowbar to swing and hit him square in the jaw then causing him to fall onto his side with groan of pain coming from him.

He coughs up some blood onto the floor then tried to catch his breath.

Joker steps closer to Jason with the bloody crowbar in hand, “Wow, that looked like it really hurt,” The smile on his lips curls upward into a more twisted grin, his yellowish white teeth on full display.

He raises the crowbar into the air then swung it down on Jason as hard as he can; Joker does this two more times.

Jason falls onto his back and grunts in pain, he can feel blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. He knows for sure he has fractured and even broken bones in his body that will never properly heal.

Don't have nobody to call my own

“Whoa, now, hang on,” Joker walks closer to Jason breathing heavily on the floor, “That looked like it hurt a lot more,” He carefully pats the crowbar in his hand as he continues speaking, “So let’s try and clear this up,” He cocks his head to the side in a mockingly questioning way, “okay, pumpkin?”

“What hurts more?” Joker raises the crowbar above his head, “A?” Then swings it down onto Jason’s chest, “Or B?” Then swings the crowbar down onto his leg.

“Forehand?” Joker swings the crowbar into Jason’s face, “Or backhand?” He raises the crowbar across his chest before swinging it into Jason’s shoulder.

Joker continues beating Jason with the crowbar, each time causing Jason to grunt and groan in pain, his body to jolt with each swing.

Please turn on your magic beam

Joker maniacally cackles. In his eyes, these past nine months have been a blast. Batman has been miserable, Jason is afun plaything to beat, and Joker loves it!

Jason looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at Joker, then mutters something inaudible under his breath.

Hearing this, Joker gets down onto his hands and knees to better hear the young man, “Ah, uh, ah…” He mocks. He cups his hand over his ear then leans in a bit closer and whispers, “A little louder, lamb chop,” He places his hand in Jason’s hair, “I think you may have a collapsed lung,” While speaking, he ruffles the young man’s hair, “That always impedes the oratory.”

With some strength, Jason lifts his head and spits blood onto Joker’s face. Despites months of torture, Jason refuses to give up; he’s been through hell before growing up in Crime Alley and that didn’t break his spirit.

Joker is shocked, angry, and a bit disgusted by the act and in retaliation grips a fistful of Jason’s hair painfully before slamming his face into the concrete ground.

Joker stands up straight as he glares at Jason on the ground, “Now, that was rude,” He takes out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket then dabs away the blood on his cheek, “The first boy blunder had some manners.”

Jason looks over his shoulder and with a small, cheeky smile on his face, feeling proud of himself for that small act of defiance.

Joker finishes cleaning his face then puts his handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, “I suppose I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps,” He looks up in thought for a few moments before a wide grin crosses his face and says, “Nah, I’m just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar,” He steps on Jason’s back and presses more pressure onto his spine.

Jason stares up at Joker then closes his eyes to mentally prepare himself for the beatings.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream

Harley Quinn is the one handling Jason now while Joker is away. The clown gave her a list on what to do with Jason for her to follow. Since she’s madly in love with the madman, she made sure to follow it to the T.

Jason’s wrists is cuffed to the metal bedframe with a bag over his head to block his sight; as Harley Quinn described to him earlier, when a person loses one of their senses, the brain rewires itself and enhances the other senses to pick up the slack.

With Jason’s sight temporarily gone, he feels the things around him more than he would with his sight, and that was Joker’s goal. He can feel the cattle prod shocking the metal of the bedframe before feeling the shock course through his tense body.

Give him a pair of eyes with a "come-hither" gleam

Harley Quinn giggles in delight and claps her hands together, “Isn’t this fun, birdbrain?” She looks down at Joker’s list in her hand and traces the hearts she drew around his name, “Mistah J was so kind to leave us a list of activities to have fun with,” She giggles again before stopping, “Why aren’t ya laughin’!?” She shocks the metal bedframe with the cattle prod and causes Jason’s body to tense up and yells out in pain.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this before finally breaking; he’s been trying to distract himself from the torture by thinking of his life before going after his biological mother, but it sometimes ends with him hurting himself emotionally. He misses his friends and family and would love nothing more than to go back to them, but he still doesn’t regret going after his mom.

Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci

“M-Mama…” Jason weakly calls out through slur mumbles. He can’t give up, his mom still needs help; even though she was the one who ratted him out to Joker.

Harley Quinn snickers and walks over to Jason. “Shelia ain’t comin’ to get ya, birdie,” She twirls the cattle prod in her hand as she speaks, “Don’t forget, she sold ya out to Mistah J.” She shakes her head and softly chuckles like she was remembering something funny, “Man, I don’t know if ya remember, but the look of her face when she came back with Mistah J was hilarious.”

Jason angrily huffs. He hates hearing her talk about his mom’s misery like that, “Screw you!” After that he was immediately met with the tingling feeling of electricity flowing through his nervous system.

Harley Quinn keeps the cattle prod against the metal for a few more minutes until Jason was a babbling mess. She smiles and lifts the bag to show the drooling, dazed mess underneath. She grabs his hair and forces him to look up at her. She sniffs the air then comments, “Smells like chicken,” Then she let's his head drop.

And lots of wavy hair like Liberace

Mr. Sandman, someone to hold (someone to hold)

Jason was drowning. He was tied down to a chair, on his back, and drowning. He wasn’t actually drowning, but the soaking cloth over his face makes it pretty damn hard to get any air into his greedy lungs.

Harley Quinn checks her nails while she continues to pour water over his covered mouth and nose. She seems bored and over with the whole thing; all she wants to do is spend time with Joker instead of some kid, “Jeez, it’s been almost an hour. How long I got to keep this up?”

Jason gurgles and sputters as he tries to breathe underneath the cloth.

Would be so peachy before we're too old

Harley Quinn cups her hand over her ear and leans down a little while still pouring the water over Jason’s face then asks, “What’s that? I can’t understand ya. Speak up!”

Jason tries moving his head around to get some air, but that only lasted for a few seconds before Harley Quinn was pouring water over his mouth and nose again.

So please turn on your magic beam

Soon the water in the jugs runs dry and Harley Quinn throws it over her shoulder, not caring where it lands. She leaves Jason on the floor for a few more minutes to let him catch his breath and not die of asphyxia.

She looks to her right at the other jug filled to the brim with water to pour over Jason, but her arm was getting tired and she really wants to get out of here to be with Joker.

Harley Quinn looks down at Jason with a big grin on her face, “Good news! I’m wrappin’ up your morin’ constitutional early!” She claps her hands cheerfully then grabs his chair to sit him upright, “We’ll take a quick break, sweetums.”

She takes a few steps away from Jason toward the door, “You and me got another big day ahead of us, Toddy Woddy!”

She opens the door then steps out and closes the door behind her.

Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please

Jason was left sitting alone, dripping wet, struggling to breath, with Mister Sandman by the Chordettes playing in the room. It was a song Joker likes playing when torturing Jason; in some twisted way he finds it a bit comforting to just hear the song when the sounds of his screams, his laughter, and whatever Joker is torturing him with doesn’t mix with the lyrics.

He’s heard from a passing conversation between Joker and Harley Quinn about April 27th is right around the corner; it’s been a whole year since Jason was captured.

Mr. Sandman, bring us a dream

[freakcliff]

iwtv fanfic friday: random fics from my bookmarks with less than ~200 kudos

wanted to make sure the stuff i was linking wasn't stuff everyone's read so i tried to go for the less popular works in my bookmarks

filthy with a twisted tongue by @shineforthee. 4k

Reach out to touch a dead guy’s face one time and he takes off. It’s not like it’s thrusted Daniel into a bottomless pit of despair and psychosis or anything, so who cares? (Nobody, that’s who. Not a damn soul even knows he’s here.) The smell of stale sweat and hot sugar clings in the air. A stained piece of flannel covers the window but light trickles in through the threadbare fabric, so it must be daytime. He tries to remember if it was daytime last time he looked, but it wouldn’t do anything to give him a sense of how many days he’s been here anyway.

value form by leavethebees. 4k, M

"Hey, I'm a journalist," Daniel protests. "I follow the story, and you just tried to set a guy's head on fire. That's front-page news." "Chasing stories," Alice says in an unimpressed, withering tone. "You're a romantic, then. That's worse, you know."

relentless, unbearable by eggalbumin aka @pollyclonolly. 2k

Louis taps his arm. He looks lovely tonight, and his eyes are brilliant under the bar’s light. He’s as beautiful as he is in the memory that exists in Daniel’s head, of the first time they met at Mary’s. The glimmer in his eyes, the smoke curling in tendrils around his lips, the way he smiled as he said, I did a terrible thing, once. He smiles, and it’s lined with sweetness. “You bored?” “An unreasonable amount,” Armand says. He’s not, and he knows he’s not. Louis knows, too. He could spend every day for the rest of his never-ending life chasing the shape of Daniel’s shadow and it wouldn’t bore him. He drinks whatever is left in his glass and it tastes like chalk in his mouth. Sometimes, he thinks he’ll always be trying to chase down the taste of Daniel’s blood in his throat, with Louis and alcohol and prey, and it will still find a way to linger on his tongue for as long as he lives. “Weddings are long, dull affairs. I don’t see the appeal.” (It’s 1982. Daniel’s wedding is a pleasant, lively affair.)

isaiah 43:2 by quentsy. 2k

Paul de Pointe du Lac was dead, to begin with. This was to be distinctly understood.

the whole world was ready to return by exastris_scientia aka @keepoffthetardis . 2k

There he was. Standing just outside the halo of light given off by a streetlight. His face was shadowed, but even from the distance I was at, I could see how sunken his eyes were, how tired. And how blue they glowed. Like church windows, Grace had once said. Burning like two cold fires in the night. “Been a while,” was all Daniel said when he saw me. Louis and Daniel revisit the ethics of murder. In spite of it all, they also have a little fun with it.

rocket man by quentsy. 5k, M

It was a bad idea, but that was the story of his life, yeah? Bad decision after bad decision, the longest love affair of his life. If the first was racing, and the second was heroin, then here was the third: Armand and all the scraps he tossed Daniel’s way, just enough to keep the hunger at bay.

GOODREADS by riverrio. 1k

Interview with the Vampire Daniel Molloy 3.75 STARS 328473 RATINGS 5238 REVIEWS 285 pages, Hardcover First published September 15, 2022 FILTER REVIEWS SORT ORDER POPULAR REVIEWS ONE STAR

among the wildflowers by ipsilateral. 2k

"You're soft," Jonah whispers. He touches Louis's jaw. There he goes still smiling, like it's a revelation, like he oughta be in wonderment about it all. "You don't seem like it but you soft, Louis." Louis stares up at him. There's the anger, whipping at his heart and making it race like a horse on a track, but beyond that is something else, too. Something that makes him almost tremble under Jonah's open smile. For the briefest of moments, Louis allows himself to believe that softness is a pure good, through and through. -- a few of Louis's core memories

[raginglesbian2006]

I just read your Alastor x an overlord reader and it was literally amazing!!! I was wondering if you could do husk x an overlord reader next?

My first Husk fic! To be honest, I was hesitant to write this one since I ship him with Angel so much but I decided to give it a try anyway!

Hope you enjoy it!!

Husk with an overlord! reader

Ok, so you met him when he was an overlord as well

He, of course, beat you quite spectacularly at a game of cards. It impressed you, to be honest

Slowly, the two of you formed a friendship- him giving you some of the souls he'd win from gambling and you gifting him the finer luxuries of life, with booze, obviously.

Safe to say, both your love languages were gift-giving

So it surprised you when he suddenly stopped talking to you

You tried approaching him quite a lot, but he brushed you off, not looking you in the eye

Soon, you'd start hearing rumors about Husk selling his soul away to none other than....the radio demon

Your hands clutched around nothing. That bastard.

Seeing as he was now bound to the ever-grinning overlord, it wouldn't be until the Hazbin Hotel popped up that you were able to see your dear friend again

When you were made aware of the fact that the radio demon had started sponsoring the hotel, you knew that's where you would find Husk

And right, you were

He looked...dead. As if all the life was sucked from his being- never mind the fact that everyone in hell was in fact, not alive. Your dead heart ached at his miserable state

He hadn't noticed you when you walked into the establishment, greeted by the princess of hell herself. Your eyes stayed fixated on him, trying to get him to notice you without saying a word

Alastor materialized in front of you, his face stuck in a permanent grin

"Why, it is a surprise seeing you here, dear. Don't tell me you want to sponsor this hotel as well?"

Oh, how you wished you could punch this motherfucker. You could, it's just that you didn't want a fight to break out in front of Husk. He would probably scold you after.

"Alastor," you acknowledged him, "Rest assured, this fine establishment is all yours for the keeping. I am here for... other purposes."

Hearing your voice ring through the lobby, Husk stopped cleaning the glasses and looked at you. You were still talking to Alastor, but if looks could kill, the radio demon would've been dead by now.

After Alastor disappeared, the princess of hell excitedly introduced you to everyone, although you didn't need much of an introduction.

You approached Husk soon after and sat down in front of the bar. He didn't meet your eyes

"Husk," you greeted. He mumbled out your name in response.

The silence persisted and your annoyance grew.

"How have you been?" you asked.

"Just peachy," he replied, dryly.

"You know if I didn't care for you that much I would probably have already hung you upside down and tortured you till you spoke to me properly."

At this, Husk chuckled a little and finally met your eyes.

"It's nice to see you too"

Sensing your worry, he continued, "You don't need to worry about me. As you see, I'm doin' just fine."

"You say that as if you haven't sold your soul to the radio demon," your voice rose a bit.

Husk grumbled a little under his breath, "You don't know anything."

"Then tell me," you emphasized, "If you were that downtrodden on your luck, you could've just told me. I would've helped you out! You know I would've.

"Can we not do this right now?" Husk gritted his teeth, his angry eyes staring you down.

You huffed and relented, "As long as you promise, you're gonna talk about this with me, later." He agreed.

When no one was around, he told you about how he struck a deal with Alastor as a last resort, after having lost souls through gambling game after game. His reasoning for not talking to you about his struggles was that he didn't want to see him like that. Like he was struggling to stay afloat.

You didn't say anything. The only thing in your head was how you could help him get out of his situation now.

The rest of your day together was spent relishing in good memories, bonding over drinks, and ended with him beating you in a game of cards, again.

Before he retired for the night, you called out to him, "You know I would do anything to help you, you just need to ask."

Husk chuckled, "I know. I know. But I'm fine as long as I get to see you again."

From the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow. You turned around to see who it was, finding an empty corridor instead. You shrugged it off.

After helping Husk settle into his room and rest for the night, you disappeared with a click of your fingers.

A shadowy figure approached the radio demon. It slithered up to him and whispered to him whatever it saw and heard.

"Interesting..." Alastor's eyes lit up and his grin grew menacingly, "Interesting, indeed."

A/N: This turned out to be a whole ass fic lmao.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Mellow Embers: The Kindling

summary: takin’ our time, let the world turn.

pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS, eventual smut (in pt. ii), internal angst if you squint, impatient!reader, joel being a balm to the rushing soul & a lovely (modern but still a little traditional) southern man, unkmowingly insecure!joel, first date, kissing

wc: 2,604

an: a song based fic that inspired this concept! everyone say thank you kacey musgraves <3. perhaps…perhaps i am back. i hope to be, pls be patient with me.

misc. masterlist | the crescendo (pt. ii)

Quick, fast, and in a hurry.

That’s the mantra you always lived your life by, passed down from generation to generation. Raised in the most independent hoard of women, you were taught that you didn’t have a choice. You have to work hard, diligently, fast in order to get things done. There is no sulking, no thinking, no waiting. If you want something done, you’ll do it yourself and you’ll do it with a brisk ease. Everything in life is a task– even finding someone you want to spend your life with.

While you have some hesitancy about putting the petal to the metal when it comes to love–what with the failed marriages of your mother, and her mother and mother– you know no other way. You know no other way, until you met Joel Miller.

Joel trudges into your bar one night and you can’t take your eyes off of him. His eyes are a warm brown that rivals the shine of amber, his jacket a bit dusty, his hair a little wild. He’s moving a bit slowly, rubbing at his back when he takes a seat on the stool a couple strides down the bar from you. You wrap things up with the patron in front of you, sliding their food order down the bar to a runner before making your way to this mystery man.

You lean over the bar with a cheeky grin, pushing your cleavage together, “What can I get you? It's on the house.”

“Whiskey, a double. It ain’t good manners not to pay,” He murmurs, throwing down a couple bills.

Your interest is further piqued. What’s a southern man like him doing in a place up so north? You wonder where he’s from, what his life was like before coming to live in a city such as this one.

“Isn’t it rude to refuse good hospitality?”

He shrugs, the tiniest smile on his face, “I personally like to take my flirtin’ a little slower.”

You tilt your head, raising a brow at him, “But not your conclusion jumping? Who says I was flirting?”

“You’re not very good at being discreet about your stare, sweetheart.”

Your face grows extremely hot, and for a moment you open your mouth to give him a rebuttal but soon close it once you realize you don’t have one. Instead, you murmur something about his drink and turn away to fetch a glass and a bottle of whiskey. When you return, your pour is fast. You’d been eager to talk to him and now you couldn’t be more eager to get away.

The man leans across the bar, as he takes the drink from your hand, careful not to touch you. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be. Can I get you anything else?” The words fly out of your mouth, almost slurring together with how quickly you say them.

“You just can’t slow down, can you there, honey?” His tone isn't unkind or condescending, just observant. You find yourself growing defensive anyway.

“It's a bar, it comes with the territory.”

“So does the quick flirtin’?”

“I know what I want and I go after it. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Doesn’t give you much time to appreciate things,” He says thoughtfully.

“Right.”

“I’m interested, darlin’. I am. But let’s take our feet off the gas. I’m Joel,” He introduces himself, holding a hand out to you.

You take it, unable to look away from his warm, inviting eyes despite his hesitancy. And that was the simple, slow start of you and Joel.

Syrupy slow. Thick as molasses.

—

It takes weeks for Joel to ask you on a proper date. He’s said he was interested, and clearly was by how often he frequented the bar you work at. He’d order the same double, sit at your end of the bar, and then the two of you would chat between patrons. He’s charming and hilarious, and so godly fucking slow at dating. If it wasn’t endearing, if he wasn’t so handsome you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It’s nearing the end of the third week you two have done this but it’s Friday, and tonight Joel stays until your shift is over so he can walk you to your car. He even helps you clean once all the other patrons are out, wiping down the bar for you as you finish loading glasses in the dishwasher.

The summer air is a little chilly once you two exit the bar, and Joel notices the way you shiver in your tiny little top— the one that shows cleavage that he tries to be conscious of, that he tries not to look at. He’s successful…most of the time.

“S’a little dusty, but here,” He murmurs, shrugging out of the jacket he’s wearing, gently draping it around your shoulder.

It’s shit like this that keeps your heart so tender for a man you haven’t even held hands with. You’ve wondered if it’s just his southern charm, or if someone before you had hurt him and made him more mindful of the way he pursues women.

His gesture has your heart fluttering, palms growing slick like you’re back in high school, having your first date with Nathan from second period. Sometimes you think about what your family might say about Joel. That he’s too traditional, that he probably wants you barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen, a ring on your hand. But, you don’t get that vibe from him. You think that maybe he just wants to treat you well, and maybe you finally think you deserve something like that. Even if it’s moving much slower than you would prefer.

“Thank you, Joel,” You say, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

Something about Joel and his soft, slow intensity is different than anything you've ever had before. Once to your car, you start to slip out of his jacket but he shakes his head.

“Keep it, darlin’. I’ll come get it tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Wondered if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow since you're off.”

“Finally,” You huff playfully, grinning at him.

If you’re not mistaken, Joel blushes, scratching the nape of his neck. “Alright, alright, don't you start now.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. You know we could do breakfast instead— or lunch,” You suggest, feeling a little impatient. Did you really want to wait the entire day to see him?

“Dinner,” He repeats, a knowing grin on his face. “Be patient, girl.”

“Fine, fine. Dinner, I’ll just twiddle my thumbs all day.”

“We both know you’ll be runnin’ around like a chicken with its head cut off by 10 a.m.”

It feels good that he knows you. You laugh, nodding begrudgingly. He’s right— it might even be earlier than that.

“Just make sure you pace yourself on the coffee.”

“I make no promises. Goodnight, Joel.”

For the first time since your handshake, Joel touches you. He takes your hand into his, helping you into your car, and before shutting the door behind you, he presses a chaste kiss to your skin. Warmth spreads slowly through your hand, creeping up your arm and neck, into your cheeks.

“Goodnight, honey.”

—

Joel doesn’t touch you again the entire night. He’s careful when you return his jacket, careful when he’s guiding you, only letting his hand ghost behind you as you walk. It’s driving you nuts. You wore a silk dress, floral and clingy in all the right places— even wore a flower in your hair to match, and still there was nothing. Well, he had called you beautiful, so beautiful to be exact, when you answered the door.

During dinner, he told you about his daughters, Sarah and Ellie. Things sort of clicked, of course, he would want to take things slow when there are children involved. He doesn’t speak ill of Sarah’s mother when he mentions that they co-parent, explains that Ellie is sort of a stray he ended up taking in. It’s impossible to miss the way he lights up when speaking about his girls. He says that Sarah welcomed Ellie with open arms, that they’re nearly inseparable and do nothing but give him a hard time together.

You don’t say it, but you hope that one day you’ll get to meet them. With your disposition, you wouldn’t be opposed to meeting them right now. But that’s now how this works, especially not with Joel in the driver’s seat.

You respect it. You respect him. It doesn’t stop you from being a little forward when he walks you to your door.

“Do you want to come in?”

Joel gives you a shy smile, shaking his head. “You know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

You nod, pouting a little. Joel thinks it’s adorable, and wants to reach out and run a thumb over the swell of your bottom lip to push away. But he knows you, and the moment he laid his hands on you, you’d bounce on him. He’s not sure he’d be able to resist, even with his reservations.

“Well, there was no harm in me trying,” You say salaciously, raising a brow at him.

“I appreciate your eagerness, but we’re still takin’ this slow.”

“I know, I respect it, Joel. It’s just not something I’m used to.”

He doesn’t like the way you deflate a little, as if you’re feeling some sort of shame. He’d never want you to feel that way.

He takes a step forward, cupping your cheek gently, “You know there’s nothin’ wrong with taking things fast, honey. But, I think this is good for the both of us. How does it feel?”

How does it feel? When you get beyond the initial impatience, the clumsiness of not always flirting and immediately getting physical, it feels…certainly different, and maybe good. Really good. To know his interests, and intentions, his values, and pieces of his life before diving in head first. Yeah, it feels good. Because there is no making things work as they come at you— Joel is slowly showing you what you get with him, proving as time inches forward that you two fit together just fine.

You don’t have to rush into it to make him stay. He just will.

That restless energy you feel like you were born with settles as you try to formulate your answer. How could you tell him all of that without seeming like you were rushing into things feeling perfectly right?

You decide to keep it vague, feeling a little nervous for once. “It feels good. Nice. Different…not what I’m used to, but nice.”

Joel’s thumb slowly skates across your cheek, trying to soothe you. His voice is a soft gravelly hum. “Feels good for me too, sweetheart.”

He’s making your head foggy, with his gently dominant disposition. Unable to stop yourself, you lean further into his palm, enjoying the callousness here and there. His eyes don’t leave yours, as if they’re looking into you and not just at you. His presence is overwhelming, a single glance from him consuming you. You find yourself trembling slightly despite the dreadfully warm air tonight.

Joel bends slightly, his nose just an inch away from ghosting yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, alright?”

You make a soft, affirmative sound, the ability to find your voice escaping you.

It’s so slow. So Joel. It feels like the slow drip of caramelized sugar. Like a snail making its way across the pavement. Your brain slips away further there's nothing but warmth and happiness and pleasure as Joel kisses you on your porch. He presses his mouth to yours, guiding your head back with the hand that still cups your cheek. He takes your hand, bringing it up so that you mirror his actions. Once your hand is there his drops away, taking your other hand and guiding it to his chest.

He wants you to feel. To take this moment to stop time and not get lost in it, not drift away like you were before. He wants you to stay present, to savor every languid stroke of his tongue against yours.

And as if you can feel him saying that through the simple connection of lips, you become sharply aware of what the sensation of kissing Joel Miller feels like.

How his lips are as soft as they look, his tongue tasting of the dark ale he drank at dinner. How the shadow of a beard that trails his jaw tickles at your palm. How firm and solid and warm his chest feels beneath your fingertips. More than that— both of his hands now cup your face with a gentle intimacy you’ve never experienced, not even with others who have seen and touched much more of your body than he has.

Despite sinking into him and his patience, there’s a hunger inside of you that you can’t ignore. You give into your urges and instruments. It’s as if this was the calm before the storm— the storm being you, starting to clutch him closer, kiss him deeper, frantically so.

Joel chuckles into your mouth when he feels the way you start to pillage him; there’s no other word for it. Your message is as clear as his: you want more and you want it now.

“Down, girl,” He slurs into your mouth, getting a grip on your hands and gently prying them from the fabric of his flannel.

“Sorry,” You whisper, completely breathless. You take a step back towards the door, your expression apologetic. “Sometimes— most of the time, I get a little carried away. I didn’t mean to cross a line.”

“You didn’t cross a line— at least not one I don’t eventually intend to cross,” He assures you softly, taking a step forward to maintain proximity to you.

It makes butterflies flutter in your tummy even as you laugh, nodding in understanding. He was being genuine despite moving slower than molasses. He’s worth the wait. At least that confirms the worst of your worries. He’d said from the day you met he was interested but there was a silly part of you— insecure and swirly, you try not to engage with it much— that thought that maybe he was just being a gentleman. Taking pity on you, giving you the time of day to boost your confidence and spare your feelings.

“What do think about say to us doin’ this again next week, sweetheart?”

“I think…I would really like that, Joel.”

“Great. Now hold your horses and let me kiss you again.”

He does that thing again like he did last night, his voice infused with honey, low and delicious as he crowds you up against your door. The combination is threatening to make your legs give out and you brace yourself by the doorknob, looking up at him with eager eyes.

Joel kisses you breathless once more, taking both of your wrists in his grasp if only to keep you at bay, and maybe to feel soft your skin is under his palms…how you let him take the lead despite it being a new concept. The thought has his cock stirring and he pulls away, knowing that he’s pressed his luck enough with you tonight.

He raises his eyebrows, unable to keep the smirk off his face. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight, Joel,” You murmur, feeling tingly all over.

You let yourself in and watch Joel walk to his car through the screendoor. And when he pulls off, he gives you a cute little wave, one that you return, warmth blooming in your chest.

Joel and his sweet southern charm, sweeping you off your feet.

joel taglist: @honeybrowne, @campingwiththecharmings, @lesbianhotch