#girl named love.. girl named life you got so much in you

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

the day you left michael kaiser was the day you died.

you didn’t lose your life, but you surely lost your heart. too many pieces of it had been left fragmented and taken by kaiser for you to be able to fix it ever again. you were only seventeen, and yet it felt like you’ve gone through a lifetime of heartbreak. leaving kaiser was both the most divine gift you have ever given yourself, but also the greatest mistake you have ever committed.

you had met him when you were five. round, rosy cheeks from the frosty winter air were covered in fat tears. you had gotten lost, and you couldn’t find you parents. eventually, you reached the neighborhood park. crouching in the wood chips, with grime and bruises littering his body, was a young michael kaiser of the same age.

he had never spoken to anyone his age, let alone a girl. when you shoved yourself down onto the near frozen swing, still sobbing and sniffling like a baby, kaiser didn’t know what to do. in the end, with his broken grammar and rude words, kaiser wanted to comfort you. he want to try to stop you from crying; after all, it reminded him of himself whenever his father beat and choked him. “what the fuck are you crying about? you look disgusting.”

if kaiser knew gentle words, he would have spoken them. if he knew a lullaby, he would have hummed it. if he knew how to comfort someone, he would have done so. but at age five, he didn’t know anything but swear words. after all, those were the only things that he father ever communicated to him in. at his words, you only sobbed harder. “s-shut up!” kaiser exclaimed. however, you quickly stopped crying once the realization hit you: he wasn’t angry at you.

“i-i’m sorry. i just can’t find my mama and dad.” you whimpered. kaiser nodded. you wiped your tears away, teardrops nearly frozen from the cold. kaiser pointed to a large building next to a collection of houses.

“there’s a shitty station there. a useless piece of shit like you should go there.” kaiser muttered, his voice peculiarly calm for someone who is uttering the nastiest of words. you only blinked a few times in confusion at his vulgarity before grinning brightly, your tears having all been wiped away, and thanked him.

at that moment, you both fell in love with the other. it was only supposed to be a stupid childhood crush that would last a month or two; it wasn’t supposed to be serious. it was just supposed to be cute and temporary.

if only that was the case.

after that day, you continued to visit kaiser every day at the park with a bag of bread from the neighborhood bakery. bread made from garlic salt and sugar and buttery, still warm and soft. for years, you never dared to ask why kaiser was always having fresh new wounds painted on his every day. only years later, at thirteen, did he finally tell you about his family life. you wanted to tell the police, but kaiser swore that he would rather die than end up as an orphan.

when he was fifteen, he got arrested. you knew that it wasn’t him; it wasn’t his fault. he would never steal from a jewelry store. you knew he stole, but he didn’t care about superficial riches like jewels and gold. you waited outside of the police department for two whole days without food and sleep, waiting for kaiser to have his name cleared. finally, some soccer scouter managed to bail him out.

that was the day you started dating kaiser.

he began playing for bastard münchen only a week after his release. you stood by his side, always supporting him, and being next to him, always loving him, always making sure that he knew you love him. at first, kaiser was almost the same, although much more rude to his new teammates. but he still remained as soft as he could with you, never raising his voice or a hand with you.

he began to change at sixteen.

he was cold; distant, even. he still loved you, you knew that for a fact. but soccer was always the only thing on his mind. you knew that he was justified; after all, soccer brought him self-satisfaction and love. he felt human if he played soccer, and you could understand why he was so obsessed with soccer. but not to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

kaiser choked himself.

you always knew that he hurt himself, but you always stopped him the moment you caught him, always begging for him to stop, and that he mustn’t do something like that. you begged for him to take therapy sessions, go to a psychiatrist, something, anything. kaiser only shrugged off your concerns and told you that you worried too much. but the moment you caught kaiser’s fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, unable to breathe and saliva escaping from his lips, you knew that he’s gone too far.

you had come up to him, begged him to stop. pulled his fingers away from his throat by force. after an hour of coaxing and coddling, he finally stopped for a week before continuing again. you knew that it wasn’t your problem to deal with, but you still felt so guilty about it.

kaiser told you that he loved you that night.

you dealt with him for another year. he was still so superficially obsessed with soccer; obsessed with crushing and destroying his opponents like the opposing teams on a chessboard. but you couldn’t bear it, he was nothing short of cruel to ness, and he was just like a monster when he was playing against another team. he smiled when someone on the opposing team started crying. he never treated you like that, but you didn’t want to take any chances. you knew that he would treat you just like that soon enough.

that day, you broke it off with him.

you knew that it would hurt you both, you knew that this decision would haunt your days forever. but you couldn’t deal with this anymore. you couldn’t continue to see the boy you loved spiral into insanity, with all of your efforts and begs going to waste. you were too horrified to tell him in person, so you only left a note.

over half of your once shared apartment’s furniture was destroyed that night after kaiser read the note.

he truly went insane. the one person who he ever truly loved, the one person who ever loved him, the only person who comforted him through his shitty childhood, gone and only leaving him a note. he went insane trying to find you; he texted you millions of times, called you and facetimed you thousands of times, but you never responded.

and now, at age twenty, kaiser still never moved on from you.

during matches, his eyes always scan the stands, thinking that maybe you’d come. maybe you got bored, or maybe you wanted to mock him, maybe you wanted him back, or maybe you just wanted to beat the crap out of him after drinking a bit too much. whatever the reason, kaiser just wants to see you happy. he wants to see you laughing. he doesn’t care if you don’t take him back; as long as you’re safe and happy and healthy, then he’ll be fine.

you weren’t fine. college was killing you, and you were still a virgin who never went out to parties. you still silently watched over kaiser; searching up his name often, reading news articles about him, and watching clips and videos of him on youtube. seeing him healthy made you happy, even if he wasn’t constantly in the best emotional state, especially in that strange blue lock facility that he went to when he was nineteen.

january twenty-sixth.

not only was bastard münchen playing against fc barcha today, but it also marked the fifteenth anniversary of when you and kaiser first met when you were both only five. today was the day where you decided that for the first time in three years, you would go see kaiser play. just as a physical to see if he was okay, and for no other reason. no, this because you missed him. no, this wasn’t because you were still in love with him and just wanted to see him again and wanted to know if he still loved you. surely, he wouldn’t even see you. nope, nope, not at all.

at least, that was what you hoped.

you sat in your plastic blue seat of the stadium, waiting to see kaiser again. you weren’t used to this; you were always in vip seats at his game, and this was the first time you weren’t. oh well, it was still watching the same game at the end of the day. plus, vip seating would only make it easier for kaiser to see you.

as kaiser stepped out and onto the plastic green grass, his eyes scanned the crowd once again. this would be the last time he will ever do this; if you’re not even going to be here today, then he’s sure that you’ll truly never attend any of his games. he knows you best and you know him best, after all.

left to middle. no sign of a goddess like beauty anywhere, so you weren’t there. middle section. no sign of an angel anywhere either, so you weren’t there. finally, there was only the right left. please, kaiser begged that you would be there. even if you were on your phone the entire match, kaiser couldn’t care less.

one by one, his eyes drifted through the crowd as he nearly reached the end. his eyes slowly dimmed; were you really not there? was he really never going to see the love of his life again? but then he reached the end, and his eyes widened, glimmering underneath the sunlight. and despite the fact that it was a harsh winter, the warmth and love in his eyes could melt all of the ice and snow outside.

it was you.

your eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment, there was no one else. for a moment, soccer didn’t even matter. it was just you and him. he mouthed your name, your eyes widening a fraction, before you turned red and looked away. kaiser almost laughed out loud before walking away to the center of the stadium, feeling as if he could score fifty goals. you really came; he really got to see you again.

during the match, every damn time kaiser scored a goal, he always made some sort of gesture to you, whether it’d be blowing a kiss to you or waving to you or just staring intently at you, the media went crazy over it—because it was just so obvious that those gestures were meant for you.

after the match, you walked through the stadium as quickly as you could, wanting to leave and not wanting to get bombarded by the media. you completed your task; you came to see if kaiser was okay. and he clearly was perfectly fine, so you had nothing to worry about.

that was until you felt the calloused grasp of a hand on yours.

it’s been three years, but you could recognize that feeling anywhere. the exact same way of lacing your fingers together, the exact same warmth and same feeling. the exact same hand.

mihya’s hand.

you turned around in a flash, tears brimming at your eyes unknowingly. why were you crying? you weren’t supposed to get emotional over seeing him again. not until you saw the tears stinging mihya’s eyes, tears glossing over his eyes like the most expensive and yet beautiful porcelain china.

your mihya.

“mihya…?” you mumbled, your voice the hum of a lullaby. you expected yells if this were to happen, you expected interrogations and questions and threats, you expected blackmail, you even expected to get hit by him.

but none of that came.

only the feeling of another hand tilting your chin up before cerulean eyes glimpsed into yours, looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world.

“you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.”

a/n: YES A HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON REFERENCE EEEEEE

[pretentious-blonde]

jealous much?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve may not be the jealous type, but when he sees someone else eyeing his girl, he’s more than happy to remind you exactly who takes care of you the best

warnings: 18+ this is smut, filth with feelings, depictions of sex, p in v, fingering, manhandling, steve being a cocky little shit, lots and lots of aftercare because how could i not???

a/n: to the anon(s) that told me they wanted steve to be a bit harsher, i gotchu <3 pt. 6 but can be read as a standalone!!

series masterlist

Steve’s bedroom was always comfortably cluttered—movie tickets scattered on the nightstand, a lone shirt draped over the desk chair, and a rumpled blanket that smelled faintly of his cologne. You loved it here. Loved being with him here. The two of you were sprawled across his bed, legs tangled, currently discussing the goings-on with the people in Hawkins. 

He always had a soft spot for scandal, unable to shake his love for idle gossip. He kept up with every whisper in the school hallways—a habit that only worsened once he gained access to the town’s personal archive of movie choices. 

Dangerous information for him to have, truly. 

“You should’ve seen what Keith has been checking out lately,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes bright. “Nothing but straight rom-coms. He thinks we don’t notice—‘cause, y’know, he does it on his own time—but Rob went snooping through the store’s computer system.”

“No way. Keith?” You snorted. “I thought he was into those art-house horror flicks or those silent German ones.”

“Right?” Steve agreed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “We’re putting money on him having a girlfriend. That would explain why he’s been giving us both more hours lately—guy’s gotta prioritise his love-life, you know?”

“Huh,” you mused, nudging his knee with yours. “So he finally snagged a girl?”

“That’s the theory,” he affirmed, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Now we just gotta figure out who it is. Or corner him into telling us.”

You giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Well, I’m sure that won’t take long. Keith has never been good at subtlety.”

“Kinda jealous he’s the one who arranges the schedule, though.” He hummed, shifting closer until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your hair. “Means I gotta argue with him if I want a full weekend off.”

“You poor thing,” you teased, tapping his chest. “I can always come hang out if you get stuck working. Keep you company.”

He brightened. “Yeah?”

“Totally,” you said smiling. “I don’t mind. I'm very entertaining.”

“Well, does that mean when I get a weekday off, I can come crash your work?” he asked, waggling his brows. “I look great in a tie.”

You eyed him skeptically, but there was no denying he’d look downright mouthwatering in a suit. All done up, weaving through your office like he owned the place—it made your insides curl.

He’d probably climb the ladder faster than you, effortlessly charming his way to the top. It was unfair how charismatic he could be, even without trying.

“I wish you could.” You groan, getting your mind out of the gutter. “It’d make the day go so much faster.”

"I’d be the perfect intern," he agreed, "I could grab the coffee for a change—plus,” a playful smile tugs at his lips as he gazes down at you, “I already know exactly how you like it."

You laughed, then shrugged. “Actually, you wouldn’t have to run for coffee now. We got a new hire last week—Ryan, I think his name is? He’s younger, maybe by a year or so, but super eager. I’ve been showing him around, finally getting some of the stress off my plate.”

His expression changed with a touch of curiosity or perhaps just a pang of protectiveness—but it settled quickly into genuine affection. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. 

“You looking out for him, angel?”

“Yeah—well, I mean—” A flush crept up your cheeks. “I would’ve liked if someone had done that for me when I started, you know? Don’t want him to feel overwhelmed by everything.”

He almost melted as those words left your lips, loving the flustered look on your face when he praised you.

God, you’re too sweet for your own good sometimes.

You snuggled closer and let out a yawn, feeling his arm tighten around you in a gentle hug as you hid your face in his chest.

“Alright,” he said, clearing his throat as he glanced at the clock on his desk. “Come on sleepyhead. You’ve got an early morning, gotta get some rest."

You groaned dramatically. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Hey,” he offered with a warm smile, “want me to drive you? I’ve got tomorrow off so it’s really no trouble.”

“Honestly, it’s fine.” You shook your head tiredly. “Have a lie-in for once, you deserve it. Besides, you’re picking me up after work anyway, right?”

A lazy, content grin spread across his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Alright,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you—slow and sweet. “Come on, sweetheart. Bedtime.”

Steve insisted on seeing you off that morning, even when you tried to do the nice thing and let him sleep in. 

He woke up with you anyway. It baffled you how he could sleep through his own alarm but miraculously rise at the first buzz of yours. Even when you tried to turn it off and sneakily creep around his room without rousing him, your efforts were futile. 

He followed you downstairs and sipped the coffee he brewed for you both at the kitchen counter, watching while you tugged on your office blazer, making sure your hair was just right in the reflection of the hall mirror. 

It made him grin stupidly, watching you hustle around in your formal attire—his career girl. 

He couldn’t help himself. He’d pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead at his doorstep before you left, telling you to “knock ‘em dead.” Which earned him a huff from you. 

He was far too corny in the morning for your liking. 

Only when your car was out of sight did he head back inside, now all glum that he had to entertain himself for the rest of the day.

He spent his time alone doing errands—laundry, a quick trip to the grocery store, all while counting down the hours till he could swing by your office.

It wasn’t pathetic, but he’d be the first to admit he was maybe a little too eager. Then again, he’d found his person, and he figured it wasn’t a crime to want every spare minute with you.

When the time finally came, he pulled up outside the Hawkins Post, scanning the pavement for your familiar silhouette. 

He spotted you laughing with someone—the new hire, must be, he deduced as he took in the guy’s slightly younger appearance and the way he stood just a bit too close to you for his liking. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he examined him further. 

Great. Of course he’s hot.

You glanced up just then, beaming at the sight of the familiar BMW. After a quick word to your coworker—who, he noted—looked decidedly unhappy as he caught Steve’s eye.

You bounded over to the passenger seat as he gave the guy a little wave, more smug than polite, and felt a twist of satisfaction when the guy’s scowl deepened.

You slid into the seat, barely getting the door shut before he leaned in over the console to kiss you—deep and warm, with a hint of urgency that made your pulse skip. You let out a surprised hum but quickly relaxed into it, hand coming up to rest on his cheek.

“What was that for?” You pulled back, blinking at him.

He shrugged, eyes flicking past you to the figure still hovering on the pavement. 

“Nothing,” he said, casual as can be. “Just missed you, that’s all.” 

He caught your colleague staring and resisted the urge to smirk openly.

Gotcha.

You huffed a playful laugh, still a little breathless. “Well, I’m not complaining.”

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, turning the key in the ignition. You nodded, and he eased the car into the street. “Oh—there are M&Ms in the glove box. Grabbed 'em for you.” He added, remembering picking them up at the store earlier. Knowing you’d appreciate it. 

“Ugh, you’re the best, you know that?” you said, popping open the compartment and grabbing the bag, eagerly tearing through the plastic.

He glanced sideways, a small, satisfied grin tugging at his lips. Holding out his hand, he waited as you handed him a few—only fair, after all.

Because, yeah, he is the best.

Damn right.

And he’s glad you think so too. 

Dinner had wrapped up at your flat, the remnants of takeaway containers still on the coffee table, but neither of you paid them much mind. You were curled up with him on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you recounted every last detail of your day—he hung onto each word like it was the most important news in the world. 

Well, more important to him than the news you printed, anyway. 

“And,” you said, voice cracking with excitement, “they’re finally letting me write my own story! The whole thing, just me.”

His grin was instant, radiant enough to outshine the lamp in the corner. Pure happiness poured from him as he watched you speak, your joy lighting up the room.

There wasn’t a trace of resentment—just pride, just excitement, just you. 

He was every bit as thrilled as you were, because he knew how hard you’d worked to get here. And now, seeing it all finally pay off, he couldn’t have been prouder of you.

“That’s incredible, honey,” he said truthfully. “Seriously, can’t wait to read it. What’s it gonna be about?”

You shrugged, flustered and thrilled all at once. “I have so many ideas—I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, whatever you choose, I’m first in line for a sneak peek.” He draped an arm behind you on the couch, giving you a playful nudge. “You gonna let me see the first draft?”

“Nope.” You snorted. “You have to wait until it’s printed, just like everyone else. No boyfriend privileges here.”

“What?” He let out a mock-offended huff. “I’m supposed to wait for the issue like the rest of town? Come on you gotta give me, like, a preview or something.”

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, stifling a laugh at his dramatic pout. “Let me get changed first, and then maybe we can brainstorm together, okay?”

He leaned back, playful grin returning. “But I like the corporate look.”

“Yeah, well, now you get the pajama look,” you countered, sticking your tongue out as you got up.

He watched you walk off, fondness swelling in his chest. He’d never get tired of that view—hair done up from a day at the office, blouse slightly rumpled from a long day’s work. 

You disappeared into your bedroom, leaving him alone on the couch. He let out a contented sigh, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

With a lazy flick of the remote, he turned up the volume on the TV, barely sparing it a glance. What you wore didn’t matter to him—truth be told, he loved you just as much in cosy attire as in your best dressed-up look.

Comfort suited you, and therefore suited him just fine.

Not even a minute after your departure, the phone rang—a jarring, tinny sound that made him glance over his shoulder. It only rang twice before he heard your cheerful voice answer in the bedroom. 

His ears perked up. He couldn’t help it—he was nosey.

Sue him. 

Muting the TV, he angled his head to listen, as your muffled giggle drifted through the space. 

“No, seriously, don’t worry about it,” you said. “He doesn’t need it until Monday—promise.”

He rose from the couch, moving quietly toward your slightly ajar door. He caught a glimpse of you standing by your chest of drawers, one hand on your hip, the other clutching the receiver. He couldn’t quite make out every expression with your back turned, but your tone was friendly, warm, comfortable. 

An unwelcome pang of jealousy flared in his chest, though he quickly reminded himself that you love him, you’ve talked about this, he trusts you. 

Still, he couldn’t resist sidling closer.

“Yeah, don’t listen to what he said,” you continued, your tone soothing. “He’s all talk, trust me.”

He inched into the room, sliding his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling his face against your neck. Your skin was still warm and you let out a tiny squeak of surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him.

He inched down to whisper in your free ear, low and soft. 

“Who is it?”

Turning to him, you quickly covered the receiver with your palm. “Ryan,” you mouthed.

Ryan. Right. Great. 

He rolled his eyes a little, then brushed a slow kiss on the side of your neck. 

“Call him tomorrow, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice playful but filled with an undercurrent of impatience. 

You already spent the whole day with the guy, and now he's calling you? Even when he saw him pick you up? It didn’t take a genius to figure out you had other plans, and the thought nudged at him uncomfortably. 

You shook your head in exasperation, though you were smiling. He continued to nuzzle you, pressing you gently forward until your back arched at the contact. 

“Leave work at the door,” he teased, fingers pressing slightly into your waist.

You exhaled a soft laugh and brought the phone back to your ear. “Hey, Ryan? I’ll, uh, I’ll just swing by the office a bit earlier tomorrow if you need anything else, okay? … Yeah, no worries, meet you outside. Bye.”

You placed the handset back in the cradle and turned fully to face your boyfriend, still in your work clothes, not yet changed.

Crossing your arms, you fixed him with a look, and he couldn’t help but smirk, already anticipating the playful scolding coming his way. But all he could focus on was you—standing there in your blouse and slacks, looking far too damn sweet for him to take even the slightest bit seriously.

“Feeling needy, huh?” you asked, tilting your head.

He let out an incredulous huff, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. 

“What? Couldn’t he have waited till tomorrow? I mean… come on. He could have talked to you anytime today.”

You shrugged. “I did tell him he could call if he had any questions.”

He snorted, stepping closer, fingers trailing gently along your waist. 

“Questions, huh?”

“Questions,” you confirmed, heart skipping a beat at the intent look in his eyes.

His touch lingered, a tiny spark of possessiveness flickering behind his eyes. Then the realisation seemed to strike. You saw it—the slight tightening of his jaw, the faint furrow between his brows. It made you bite your cheek to stop from letting a giggle slip. 

“Wait a second,” you said, holding back a smile. “Steve, are you… are you jealous?”

“What? No.” He shifted, clearing his throat. “Absolutely not.”

“You so are,” you pressed, delighting in the way his nose scrunched ever so slightly.

“Sweetheart,” he warned, voice dipping lower, “I’m not.”

You only giggled, emboldened by the rosy flush creeping into his cheeks, wanting to push his buttons just a little. 

“Aw, you think I’d ever pick him over you?”

Something sparked in his eyes, a confident glint that made your stomach flutter. 

“Oh, honey,” he purred, “I know you wouldn’t pick him over me.”

You couldn’t resist teasing him one step further.

“Oh, well…” you sighed, letting the words trail with a mischievous lilt, “I’m not quite sure. I mean, he knows my coffee order too, you know.”

The air shifted—his hand slid up your torso in one smooth motion, fingertips barely brushing the exposed skin of your collarbone before settling at the base of your throat. 

His palm rested there, thumb gently grazing your quickening heartbeat as he angled your chin up to face him.

“You wanna finish that thought, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice low enough to send a tremor through you.

You swallowed, a sudden dryness in your throat. He smirked, clearly relishing your hesitation. 

“Didn’t think so,” he whispered, brushing his lips fleetingly against the corner of your mouth before pulling back.

Your heart pounded, body already hyper-aware of each place he touched you. You wondered if he could feel the way your pulse had sped up beneath his hand—because from the triumphant gleam in his eye, it was clear he knew precisely what kind of effect he had on you.

When his fingers trailed beneath your collar again, you shivered, and the reaction only seemed to spur him on. 

“Think I’m jealous, baby?” His mouth hovered just above yours, teasing, refusing to close the distance.

When you leaned in, he pushed back just enough to make you wait, to make you listen. 

"Need me to show you how well I take care of you?” His other palm slid against your lower back, holding you flush against him. “Can’t have you forgetting, can we?"

The way he was looking at you, like he dared you to argue.

His eyes were locked on yours, hungry and unapologetically smug, as he backed you against the counter. Waiting for the subtle nod of your head to tell him to continue. 

His fingers fiddled with the button of your trousers, and you could practically feel his heart racing in sync with your own.

“H-haven’t forgotten,” you managed to stutter out, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

He cocked a brow as he paused his motions, leaning in until his breath fanned over your lips. 

“You sure? The way you were talking—almost like you need a reminder.” A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his mouth. “And you know how much I love proving my point.”

You swallowed hard. You did know—Steve was stubborn as hell, and once he made up his mind, there was no talking him down. 

You’d learned that the very first time you hung out with him—he spent a whole hour building you that damned bookshelf that was wedged in the corner of your living room, refusing to even let you help him carry it up the stairs. All in an effort to prove himself to you.

And by the way he was acting, he was determined to prove himself again. 

“Say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.” He tells you earnestly, as his brown eyes search your face. 

He would stop in an instant if you told him to, but the way you're looking at him tells him you won’t. Something tells him that you want him to show you how good he can make you feel.

And Steve? 

Well, Steve never backed down from a challenge. 

You let out a shaky exhale, no response forming except the pleading expression you're giving him. A small, triumphant noise rumbled in his throat. Your slacks and underwear hit the floor, and in one swift motion, he coaxed you against the side of the counter, broad hands splaying over your hips.

He brushed his hand against you slowly, cautiously, fingers gliding against your core and making your knees threaten to buckle.

“Already?” His tone was low, teasing, right at your ear as his fingers entered you with a lewd, wet sound. “You’re shaking, baby. Maybe I have been neglecting you.”

“Please,” you whimpered after a moment, overwhelmed by how slow and teasing he was moving—he wasn’t normally quite so unhurried with the foreplay.

Steve usually never made you beg for anything. 

He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to the side of your neck. Clearly, he was enjoying this—relishing the way your hands pawed at his shoulders, desperate, pleading for more. For him to stop playing and just give in.

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, alright?” His fingers moved with agonising precision. “So sensitive—so sweet for me”

Your breathing stuttered; the sensations bloomed hot and electric with every brush of his fingers. But his mouth kept going, sliding into that cocky territory he owned so well. 

“Bet he wouldn’t even know where to start with you,” he murmured, voice laced with pride. "Wouldn’t even know how fucking beautiful you sound when you—" his thumb pressed hard against your clit, dragging a desperate, wrecked moan from your lips, “—fuck yourself on my fingers.”

You could tell he was on a roll, completely caught up in the moment, but you mustered the courage to speak anyway.

Feeling bold, you forced a small smirk, even as your body threatened to betray you. You’d never seen him this pent up before—this utterly consumed—and the sheer thrill of it sent a sharp, electric spark through you.

Curiosity burned—just how far could you push him?

“O-oh, I don’t know—” you managed to choke out, stepping on dangerous territory. “He’s a keen learner…”

So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?

Everything stopped—his fingers, his breath, the push of his body against yours. He stilled, letting a harsh exhale flare his nostrils. 

Then a dark, knowing laugh bubbled out of him as he lifted his head to look at you—really look at you. You caught a glimpse of his determined face, before all composure snapped. 

Now he really had something to prove.

“Fuck, angel,” he groaned, voice taking on a frustrated edge. “You just don’t know when to stop—do you?”

Before you could react, he flipped you around and pushed your hips down against the dresser with a firm grip. The wood pressed into your stomach, your palms splayed on either side as he molded himself to your back.

He cupped your jaw from behind and you gasped at the harshness of his grip, every nerve alive. His teeth found your shoulder, biting just enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain.

You let out a sharp cry, and he swallowed it with a low groan. Running his tongue against the dull ache as a gentle apology. 

“One of these days," he muttered, "that smart mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble—” you could feel his breath, hot and ragged, “—lucky for you, I’m the one who gets to teach it a lesson.”

His words send shivers across your skin and you tried to twist in his grip. 

“Oh no, you don’t,” he chided as you tried to squirm, pressing against you back as he stilled your movements. “Stay.”

He placed one strong palm between your shoulder blades, guiding you lower, til your chest made contact with the wooden surface. Keeping you where he wanted you.

He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t forcing—just holding you there, making sure you felt him, making sure you knew exactly how this was going to go.

Your legs stumbled as you adjusted to the position, and he just laughed, sliding his fingers inside you once more, coaxing the most desperate little noises from your lips.

“Say my name, angel,” he demanded, that infuriating confidence dripping from every syllable.

“S-Steve,” you whimpered, voice barely recognisable to your own ears.

“Good,” he praised, dipping his head to kiss along your shoulder, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside that he knew drives you wild. “Want it to be the only thing in your head, okay?”

You moaned out his name once more, and he hummed with approval. 

“That’s right." He cooed. "You're a fast learner, baby.”

He pulled away momentarily and you whined at the loss of contact, until you heard the metallic rasp of his zipper. He was right back against you, pressing his length along you with a low moan.

"You feel that?"  he murmured, voice thick with need as he pressed against you, rolling his hips in a slow, deliberate grind. The friction sent sparks through your core, pulling a soft gasp from your lips. His grip tightened, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. "You're soaked, sweetheart."

He didn’t want to wait—couldn’t wait. He needed to prove it to you, needed you to understand just how much he could give you. Just how much he deserved you. 

You tried to speak, but your voice came out ragged. Then, mercifully, he pushed inside—slow enough to let you feel every inch. The stretch pulled a drawn-out, trembling whine from your chest.

“Ah, fuck—.” His own voice cracked, hips snapping forward as though he couldn’t possibly wait another second. “That’s it—see how good that feels?—pussy was made for me. Ain't that right, angel?”

You only mewled in response as he settled into a driving rhythm, each thrust pushing you into the surface, bullying his cock deeper and deeper inside.

He wrapped a hand against the back of your neck, keeping you pinned where he could use you, pressing hot kisses along your shoulders when you cried out. It was music to his ears as he continued his relentless pace.

Normally he was gentler, but now, he was done holding back. The litany pouring from his mouth was shameless, full of desire and unfiltered possessiveness.

“Should’ve kept him on that damn phone—” he rasped against your neck, each word punctuated by a thrust. “Should’ve made him listen to how you sound—‘cause that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to having you like this—”

Your walls tightened around him as his words poured over you, and he noticed—of course he noticed. He drank in every tremor, every flutter of your pussy, letting out a breathless laugh tinged with disbelief as he felt you squeeze him deeper at his teasing remarks.

"You like that?—really?" He let out an amused chuckle at the new information. “Shit—never knew how filthy you were, baby.” 

The way you gripped his length, pulling him deeper, the sinful sounds spilling from your lips—he knew he was giving you both. Worship and destruction. 

And fuck, you loved it.

You dragged your nails across the dresser’s surface, searching for an anchor in the storm of sensation. His hand slid over yours, fingers lacing as he drove into you, relentless.

“Too fucking bad he’s never gonna see how pretty you look when you're fucked dumb,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss the side of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "That's just for me."

You felt your composure slipping, your body teetering on the edge. Your head rolled to the side, a broken string of words escaping.

“Steve, please—” spilled from your lips, but you weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you upright just enough so he could whisper directly into your ear. The pain was delicious as you arched against him, lungs gasping for air as he continued to spill every dirty thought he had.

"It's alright sweetheart—I’ll give you what you need. Just look at you—can’t even think straight." A soft, desperate moan tore from your throat as his mouth continued to run. "Just falling apart on my cock, letting me fuck every last thought out of that pretty head of yours."

His pace quickened, your body overwhelmed with the slide of him inside your walls, the heat of his skin, the possessive timbre in every word he rasped into your ear.

"But you know what you will remember?" he purred, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "Every time you see him, you’ll remember how I had you bent in half, screaming my name—not his." He let you fall back onto the dresser, firm grip returning to your shoulder. "I want this burned into you, baby. So every fucking time you even look at him, all you can think about is me stretching you open—ruining you for anyone else."

Fuck, you knew Steve was loose-lipped in bed, but this was something else entirely. 

He wasn’t making love to you—he was fucking you. Hard. Rough. Saying whatever filthy thing came to mind without a second thought. 

You wished you could throw back a sly quip, but at this pace? You could barely breathe, let alone speak. 

Not that it would matter—he wouldn’t give you the chance.

Your moans rose in pitch, matching the mounting tension in your core, and he groaned, voice unraveling into something so heady it almost vibrated through you.

"I—fuck—I want you feeling me tomorrow, sweetheart—want every step you take to remind you exactly what’s waiting for you when you come home." He thrust sharply, greeted with the cry that tore from your lips. "‘Cause, baby, I’ve got no problem bending you over like this again and again—’til the lesson sticks—"

That final promise was all you needed—you came hard, a wave of ecstasy rolling through you as your body clenched around him. Your cry echoed in the small space, and you felt his grip falter as he groaned your name, riding the crest of your climax.

“Fuck, baby—that’s it,” he choked out, thrusts turning erratic. “So good for me, taking me so—”

Then he followed you over the edge, hips snapping one last time before his body seized. You felt his breath come in ragged pants against your neck, his chest pressed to your back. Every muscle in him went taut, then slack, as he let out a deep, guttural moan of satisfaction.

Your name fell from his lips in a trembling exhale, and for a moment, neither of you moved—both lost in the aftermath, hearts hammering in sync.

He held you for a beat longer, both of you still catching your breath. Your body trembled against the wood, and as he finally pulled out, he stayed close—almost reluctant to let you go.

But as he pulled away brushing a knuckle over your spine, guilt crept into his eyes the moment he took in your shaky form.

“Ah—shit” he murmured, voice low. “Hey, sweetheart, you with me?”

You nodded weakly, turning your head and giving him the smallest smile of reassurance, but he still frowned in concern. Maybe he'd gone overboard.

“Yeah… all right. Can you stand?”

“I—I think so,” you managed breathily.

“Okay,” he whispered, guiding you upright with one gentle arm around your waist. Once he was sure you weren’t going to topple over, he bent down to scoop up your trousers and set them aside. You’d probably complain if they got creased—more creased than they were. Though, that wasn’t his number one priority right now. 

You noticed the way his forehead furrowed in worry as he led you to the bed, helping you settle against the duvet. He slid in behind you, propping himself against the headboard so you could rest in his lap.

Your hands trembled a bit from aftershocks—adrenaline still coursing through your veins. He felt it, too, and his anxious expression only deepened.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey, angel?” His voice was gentle, coaxing, as he sought your eyes. “Can you look at me for a sec?”

You tilted your head back to meet his worried gaze, your cheeks still flushed and eyes glazed with the rush of it all. His own eyes flickered over your messy hair, the light smudges of your makeup, and your rumpled work shirt. Guilt pinched at his features.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m sorry if I got carried away. I just—just got caught up in everything, and you—”

You let out a soft chuckle, lifting a hand to cover his mouth gently. 

God, he’s adorable when he’s fussing over you. 

“Steve,” you said softly, watching him go silent. “You didn’t hurt me. I promise.”

He still looked unconvinced. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I'm not,” you replied, smoothing your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip. “I’m really, really good. Better than good.”

He cupped your face gently, thumb brushing soft circles into your cheek, eyes flicking between yours as if searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Didn’t mean to be so rough,” he murmured, voice laced with concern. "Should've been more gentle with you, angel."

You were still quivering in his lap, body still sensitive. He was torn between holding you tighter against him, or letting you breathe.

You leaned forward after sensing his hesitation, brushing a soft kiss to his jaw, you make the decision for him.

“I loved it." You tell him truthfully. "I love you.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, hands finding your hips and holding you there. His warmth seeped into you through the fabric of your rumpled work shirt.

You loved him.

No matter how many times the words left your lips, it still made his chest ache.

"Love you too," he murmurs, eyes avoiding yours as they dart to his lap. "Just... don't want you thinking I, like, lost control or something." He looks up at you sheepishly. "Never want to hurt you."

“I know that.” You rested your palm against his jaw, the intimacy of the moment made your heart flutter. “I trust you. And if it was too much, I’d tell you.”

He stared at you for a moment, brow furrowed in uncertainty. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

A long exhale left him, relief slumping his shoulders. 

“Thank God.” He leaned forward to rest his forehead gently against yours.

“But… you’re probably right.” You managed a playful smile as his eyes snapped to yours. “I’m definitely going to feel it tomorrow.”

A rosy flush bloomed across his face, and he buried it against your neck with a half-embarrassed groan. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You gave a teasing shrug, ignoring the dull ache that made itself known the second you moved your hips. “You might’ve had a point, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lifting his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

A teasing grin curled your lips. “You are kinda hot when you’re jealous.”

“Oh, God, don’t say that.” He winced exaggeratedly, making you laugh. “You’ll give me a complex or something.”

You laughed again, and he couldn’t help smiling back, brushing his nose against your cheek in a moment of affection.

“But, I mean, are you feeling jealous?” You asked him with full seriousness. “Because if you are, you can talk to me about it.”

He swallowed, his grip loosening slightly as his eyes softened, realisation settling deep in his chest.

You cared. So much. He thought about it for a brief moment—was he really jealous?

But then he looked at you, all concerned in his arms. The way you gazed at him, unwavering and sure, the way you had trusted him completely not five minutes ago, letting him take control, letting him have you.

It was all the answer he needed.

There was no room for doubt, no reason for insecurity. You were his��entirely his—and he knew it.

“No,” he finally said, voice gentle. “’M not jealous. Not really. I just—I don't know—wanted to make my girl feel good.” His lips quirked up in a small, sheepish grin. “And I guess I wanted to remind you who you’ve got waiting when you clock out.”

You leaned up to plant a reassuring kiss on his jaw. “Well, message received,” you teased, drawing a chuckle from him.

Steve glanced down at your blouse, still haphazardly half-done-up, and your bare legs still shaking. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? I kinda distracted you from changing.”

“You definitely did.” You smile softly as he gets up, offering you his hand to stand.

“C’mon, let’s get a bath running.” He tells you as he cocks his head towards the door.

He guides you to the bathroom, flicking on the light and starting the taps. As water rushed into the tub, he helped you out of your disheveled work shirt, eyes flicking appreciatively across your skin. Gently, he traced a thumb over a reddening mark on your neck where he’d bitten down. A pang of guilt made his eyes tighten.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss over the mark. “Got carried away.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a grin. “Hey, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Everyone to know I’m yours?”

“Yeah,” a bashful smile tugged at his lips. “I did.”

Once the bath was ready, you both climbed in. The warm water soothed the lingering tension in your muscles, and you leaned back against his chest with a contented sigh. His arms draped loosely around your middle, fingers stroking lazy shapes over your skin.

“So,” he spoke up after a moment, lips brushing your ear.  “you wanna brainstorm those ideas for your article now, Miss Journalist?”

You chuckled, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. “Oh, now you’re interested in my writing process?”

“Course I am.” He gave a soft laugh, tightening his hold on you. “I’m always interested in whatever you’ve got going on. You know that.”

“Alright,” you teased, “I have a few pitches… maybe a feature on that new charity coffee place that’s opening up on Maple Street? Or this local teacher doing after-school science programs? I’m torn—so many good leads.”

Steve made an encouraging noise. “I like the teacher one,” he mused, brow furrowing in real consideration. “I mean, c’mon, that sounds like it’d be really feel-good for the paper. Everyone loves seeing that kinda community stuff.”

“You think so?” You felt a wave of affection swell through you at how genuine he was.

“Yeah. It’s definitely the kind of story that’ll get people talking in a good way.” He paused, a grin curling his lips. “But I gotta say… I also love coffee.”

“We’ll see which one the editor likes.” You giggle.

He helped you out of the tub once the water began to cool, wrapping a towel around his waist before carefully bundling you in another. He pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, then led you back to the bedroom, flicking off the overhead light so you were left in a peaceful glow from the bedside lamp.

You slipped into a soft tee and lounge shorts as he grabbed his own pyjamas from your chest of drawers, blushing at what transpired on it previously. He would never look at it the same way again.

You curled up against him in the bed—his arms around you made everything feel warm and safe.

“What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?” you mumbled against his chest.

“Not ’til afternoon,” he said, carding his fingers through your hair.

A content sigh escaped you, eyes fluttering shut. “Nice for some, I guess.”

“But,” he continued, clearing his throat pointedly, “I’m definitely dropping you off tomorrow.”

Your brow creased, and you glanced up at him with a sleepy frown. 

“Why?”

He smirked, his hand coming to rest gently on your hip. “Because… you said you were meeting him earlier, right? The new guy?” He leaned in, voice dropping playfully. “I wanna see the look on your face when you see him—see if you remember exactly what we did tonight.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you smacked his chest lightly. “Steve!”

“What?” He chuckled, utterly delighted, pressing a mischievous kiss to your forehead. “I’m curious.”

You huffed in mock-annoyance but couldn’t hide your smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

His chest rumbled with laughter, and he buried his nose in your hair. “That’s me,” he murmured, voice going soft again as he held you closer.

[etherealval]

dating chris headcannons | a/n: these were actually so fun to write!! let me know if you guys want more :))

⭑𓂃 he’s the type to always have a hand on you, no matter what. whether it’s resting a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting together, intertwining your fingers absentmindedly, or draping an arm over your shoulders when you walk beside each other. he just likes the reassurance of your touch

⭑𓂃 he loves calling you “baby” more than your actual name. it just rolls off his tongue naturally, and half the time, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s saying it. “baby, pass me that?” , “baby, c’mere.” , “what are you doing all the way over there, baby?” he drags it out when he’s whining, murmurs it when he’s half-asleep, and says it so sweetly in passing that it makes your heart flutter every time.

⭑𓂃 he’s so dramatic about missing you, even if it’s only been a few hours. if you haven’t texted him back in a while, you’ll get something ridiculous like, “i’m wasting away over here, baby. do i even exist to you anymore?” he’ll call you just to sigh dramatically into the phone, groaning about how “life is so boring without you.” and when he finally sees you again, he makes a whole show of it, pulling you into a crushing hug, rocking you side to side, whispering, “never leave me again.”

⭑𓂃 he loves taking pictures of you, even when you’re not paying attention. his camera roll is full of you, some of them are cute, some of them are blurry mid-laugh, and some are just straight up ridiculous. he’s got a whole folder dedicated to candids of you, and he refuses to delete a single one. when he’s traveling without you, he scrolls through them just to feel close to you. and if you ever catch him taking one? he just smirks and says, “can’t help it, you’re my favorite view.”

⭑𓂃 he loves watching you get passionate about something. he could listen to you talk for hours, especially when you get really into it, whether it’s about a book, a movie, or some random niche topic you love. he’ll just sit back, watching you with this soft grin, nodding along, even if he has no clue what you’re saying. and when you realize you’ve been rambling and apologize, he shakes his head. “nah, baby, keep going. i love seeing you like this.”

⭑𓂃 he hypes you up like it’s his full time job. any outfit you wear? “damn, baby, you’re really gonna make everyone jealous today, huh?” any new project you take on? “they don’t even know how lucky they are to have you.” even if you’re just doing something simple, like making breakfast, he’s watching you like you just cured world hunger. “look at my girl, being all talented and shit.”

⭑𓂃 he randomly texts you the most unserious things. sometimes he sends cute messages, like “miss u, come over” or “thinking about u rn , just thought u should know.” but other times, it’s complete nonsense. “if i were a worm, would u still love me?” or “just saw a dog that reminded me of u.” and if you ever ignore him for too long, expect an “hello????? do u hate me now????” followed by an influx of dramatic emojis

⭑𓂃 he loves pulling you into his lap, just because. doesn’t matter if you’re in private or in a room full of people, he’ll pull you onto his lap the second he gets the chance. wrapping his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, acting like he’s just getting comfortable, when really, he just wants to feel your hips against his. and if you so much as shift against him, he’ll exhale sharply, fingers digging into your hips as he mutters, “you tryna test me right now, baby?”

taglist: @heartsforvin , @sturncakez , @matts-myloverboy , @mattsbitchh , @ilyttmatsa @sturniolosluttt , @emely9274

[euphoria-looney]

Who Said Money Can't Buy You Happiness?

Yan!Crown Prince!Connor x Princess!Reader

m.list|V!special

"Where are you? - Where are you?- I'm at home. - I'm in a taxi. - Are you almost home? - Oh... I'm sorry. - For what? - Just, everything. - Go home. - I left my wallet there. - Ahh. - You know - Nevermind. - Just say it. - This doesn't feel like love anymore..." Can't Love You Anymore by IU ft. OHHYUK.

Divider Creds: @selysie and @anitalenia

This plot was inspired by @niwaart and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff

Prince Connor hadn’t felt alive since the moment he was born, forced into a role that made everyone around you pretend to like you.

Of course, he’s grateful, but there are times he can’t help wondering, when will anything change?

Then he got the change he wanted, Tim, nothing romantic or anything, but Tim was smart and cool and another Prince for a different kingdom. Besides, he made a great partner to spare against and just talk to.

That wasn't the only change that Tim had brought upon him as he met [name]. Don’t get him wrong, she’s a sweet girl… but isn’t she trying too hard for his attention like all the only ladies of the court? She clung hard to him, though. He couldn’t shove her off, but sometimes, and only sometimes, he would be getting pushed above the bar.

It irked him how she kept following him around, and when that marriage proposal came around, he was borderline pissed but accepted it with a smile and a nod as it had pleased his father, pleased both the relations to the kingdoms, but it certainly did not please him and how Tim knew it each time during a sparring lesson he’d let Tim know that fact.

He knew he shouldn’t be this worked up on it; maybe he wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for the constant bothering, every day, non-stop, it would be cookies, flowers, maybe a woven handkerchief. He’d throw them away without a second thought. 

Call him childish, but she just wasn’t the one.

He’s still ashamed of the one time he’d finally been caught throwing away her fresh batch of cookies that she had just given him.

“... [name], I’m sorry that you had to find out this way I just don’t like what you give me.” He thought she’d get the memo, but instead, she started making other things like croissants, macaroons, donuts, candy, and salty snacks. All discarded in a trash somewhere.

Then came a ball like any other, and like every other time, he’d make an excuse to leave his fiance alone, he knew it always caused a stir in society, but it hadn’t impacted him much, and then he stumbled upon his salvation. 

The moonlight glistened on her pale skin, illuminating her gorgeous ocean blue eyes, pure, innocent, and caring eyes. The way her hair flowed through the night sky like the world was made for her, waving on like tides in the wind. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold air but left no goosebumps on her soft skin, as that was just her natural appearance. But that’s not the only thing attracting him. 

No, it had to be the way she admired the mundane things in life like the flowers, the snapdragons that are always there, yet someone had taken the time to appreciate them, or the way animals surrounded her, feeling safe and curled up near her. She had dimples on each side of her cheeks when she was small, the melodic sound of her laugh, and naivety when she finally noticed him stumbling to stand up straight, giving a very clumsy curtsy.

That had made him chuckle, he extended his hand and let her palm lay on top of his before giving her hand a fleeting kiss, as she soon had to go back to her family. He felt disappointed when she left but noticed she went back to the Wayne Imperial family. 

He couldn’t get her out of his mind, so he finally asked Tim.

“Hey, Tim, my man.” 

“I’m unable to cancel the engagement between you and [name], Kon… Unless you somehow get her to agree or my father and your father while you’re at it.” He unsheathed his sword, and I followed his actions.

“No, nothing like that.” For now… he had thought to himself.

“Who was that blondie with you guys last night? The with those blue eyes.” I grunted as I blocked his slash, and he retracted before going to hit another blow.

“Ah, Serena, she’s my new sister and, between you and me, my favorite sibling.”

“Already?” 

“Indeed, it shocked me too, though I hated them all equally, but unlike us, she isn’t corrupt and stuck up. So, you can’t help but like her.” Connor couldn’t disagree with that and went for another blow, running to close the gap between them and jumping before giving an angled slash. That resulted in both their swords to go flying.

Making them go take a quick break, and came a [name] with a new snack it was caramel-drizzled brownies. He only gave her a little bit of acknowledgment, making her understand the sign, and left without a hitch; you could see her small smile that seemed a bit disappointed but went away nonetheless.

Tim took one before eating it, for the first time, something had changed Tim tried her cooking before Connor could throw it away.

“Damn, this is good, didn’t you say you liked brownies?” He wiped off crumbs from his mouth, but Connor couldn’t help but feel nothing towards the pastries, imagining Serena, now, if she was the one that made the brownies, why this would be a whole different story.

Eventually, they went back to normal conversations.

“Listen, Connor, Serena’s native, she’s not one to judge anyone, no matter how dangerous they are to her. Recently, [name]’s been doing stuff to her, for now, nothing too extreme, but that’s not the point whenever my family can’t be at any event, do protect her for us.” Connor felt an opportunity opened up for him.

Then he started seeing Serena more than talking, more than admiring her more, and he just couldn’t do it anymore.

He’s in love with her. 

Then, a banquet was hosted, and we finally decided to cancel the engagement. 

I walked up to [name]. She seemed different, but he hadn’t cared before, so this new attitude wouldn’t change how he felt now.

“[name], I have something to confess…” he had continued the princess took the words away from him.

“You’re breaking off the engagement.

He nodded. “... I’m breaking- wait, what?” He froze. That’s not what was supposed to happen, well,l not in the way he thought it would go, at least.

Somehow, while Connor was still in a frozen state, they settled on 500,000 gold coins as their way of finalizing their canceled contract.

He kept getting bothered by many ladies during that ball, which reminded him why that engagement was important to him somewhat, and finally getting ready for bed, he couldn’t help but toss and turn.

Why though?

Isn’t this what he wanted?

Yes, yes, of course, he had wanted this. But why? Why was Princess [name] so calm about this?

Then, a few days passed, and no cookies, flowers, or handkerchiefs. That’s fine he didn’t like them anyway, he always threw them away. He then glanced at the last thing [name] had cooked for him.

Cookies.

Just like the first time she had brought something for him.

He grabbed one before bitting off a bit, then another, before picking up another cookie and repeating the process before finishing it off. 

Then, somehow, he managed to be in her office and approached her.

“Is there something you need from me, you Highness.”

For an odd reason, he kept silent, but it seemed as if he said something as she only rubbed her head out of agitation and used her pen to scratch something off her paper before standing up, and he couldn’t help but hold onto her wrist before she scrunched her face at him pulling away holding her arm out to Aldira the butler that has been the talk after the ceremony for the twins. He gave her some hand sanitizer, and she motioned him away he headed somewhere.

She sighed before saying, “If that’s all, I’ll be excused.”

He tried reaching out again, and then, all of a sudden, he was in a whole other universe.

Met with… [name]?

[name] has adjusted fine into her position with all the businessy stuff and the singing, playing instruments, ballet, and ice skating. She wanted to die but felt like that would be wrong as the og![name] probably wouldn’t like that, at least, that’s what she assumes.

Then, as she suddenly had a clear thought in her head to go to her office, she looked at herself in the mirror, normally, what was not normal was Connor Kent dressed up in a royal suit… That brought back memories.

“[name]?” He spoke out.

“How are you here, Your Highness?” [name] trembled.

He went over to her, bringing her into an embrace before being promptly shoved off.

“... [name], I know that I’ve made a mistake, but please.”

“Please, just leave me alone. You’ve made your bed; now you have to lay in it.”

“What are you saying..?”

“I’m saying I’m done being pathetic; I’m done loving you.”

“That can’t be true- [name].” Connor tried to reach out, but suddenly, everything went dark for the both of them.

Shooting up [name] heavily breathed.

Blinking his eyes open, his hand for some reason, reaching out.

“That was all a dream…” 

Btw guy this is not canon ❤.

Sorry for not updating the main story, I'm feeling a little (a lot) lazy and have a brief moment of pausing when I try to write for either of my stories.

I am slowly able to make progress on my SMM story, but I can't say the same for this one.

Enjoy this one. Hopefully, if I'm too bored at school and don't short-circuit, I can publish another chapter or something IDK.

Anyway, Happy Late Valentine's Day! -

ILoveeeMoney

Taglist (?) I hope I added everyone and hopefully, none of them are wrong.

@kittzu @charlenexoxo1 @bat1212 @silverklaus @sillysealsies @roseytheteacup @iliveinyourwallsrat @cozmie @tomoyaki @cynniee @jsprien213 @kore-of-the-underworld @anonymoushehehehe @ninihrtss @devia @fanficloverlol @masterradd-28 @aigenarated @welpthisisboring @h-ib @diemdurantia @alishii @random4137 @totired0-0 @00hellohello00 @sh4rk-k1d @shadowytravelerlover @r-u-s-s-i-a-h @paperhermits @ocean-mochi @simpingpandas @crazycaoticsimp @candlejuice @twismare @itsberrydreemurstuff @delias-stuff @shycreatorreview @randomlyappearingartist @not-aya @c4xcocoa @midnightgrimoire @time-shardz

Me tagging people who probably came for pt.2:

[unknownogre]

The sky was angry, that much was certain. Between the flashes of lightning that turned night to day, and the massive claps of thunder that shook the very ground…there was much rage. I couldn’t understand for the life of me why…until I heard a clatter in my storage shed. I lived alone in the woods, nothing just fell…

Now I’m not a cautious person. I’m not scared by this, I don’t rush to grab a kitchen knife or sword or what have you. It is probably just some scared critter trying to take cover from the storm. I can’t blame them, I don’t plan on kicking them out. All I plan to do is make their stay more comfortable and nothing less. So out in the storm I go to the shed…I don’t much feel the cold anymore, just like I don’t feel the warmth either. Sort of numb anymore, but that is neither here nor there. I open the shed to see…

…a little girl. She was muddy and terrified and quickly she grabbed…a spade…to defend herself. I make no aggressive movement. The sheer amount of fear pouring off of her could almost be smelled in the air. This girl was being chased, hell hunted. She looked like a cornered fox during the hunt.

“Hello.”

I stayed by the door to the shed. I wasn’t going to encroach in her space more than I had to. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She swings the spade a couple of times but honestly no harm no foul in my book. She is scared, I get it. What ever was chasing her must be pretty…

…oh. I pause to look back over my shoulder. Something entered my land, Oh a lot of somethings. They should know better. I have signed treaties by the king. At least now I know why she is running.

“Pl…please…please don’t give me to them. Please I beg of you…I…I don’t want to die…not like that…not like that.”

She just fell to her knees sobbing. My heart broke in that moment, started to beat faster too. This is what it feels like to be angry again eh? It’s been a while, I had almost forgotten. It was nice not being angry, not being bothered. Still, all good things come to an end. I…I didn’t want this to happen so soon. I didn’t want to give it up…I wanted it for a bit longer, to cherish it. I’ll miss it…

…my peace and quiet.

Still all good things come to an end I suppose. I can’t be idle, not right now. I’m a bastard but I’m not a monster…though I suppose that depends on what legends you listen to. I offered the little girl my hand.

“I won’t give you to them. Here you are safe, you don’t need to hide out here. Come into the main part of the house, sit by the fire. I have stew…and I’ll talk to these nice ‘people’. We’ll get it all sorted out.”

She seemed hesitant and I couldn’t blame her, she doesn’t know me from anyone and when she grabbed my hand she sent a bit of power through me. I knew she was just feeling out my intentions and emotions, I wasn’t going to begrudge her a little protection. Then she looked very confused…and I just smiled…this girls aura is clean. She has done nothing wrong, crossed no moral lines anyway. I’m just interested to see why they were hunting her through the forest. She got up and went with me to my main house. I wrapped her in a blanket, put her in front of the fire with some stew and a lovely hunk of bread I made myself. I pulled my curtains of course; they don’t need to be looking in my window. She’ll be safe, I know it.

BANG! BANG!

“OPEN UP IN THE NAME OF THE INQUISITION! UNDER ORDER OF THE HOLY GOD SOLAS, WE DEMAND ENTRANCE INTO YOUR HOME!”

That is someone who thinks they have power here, at least by the tone of their voice. The little girl jumps of course, big scary man hammering on a door would do that to anyone. A little pat to her shoulder before I turn to the door. She was still confused, but a little less scared. I bet she is still trying to process what she learned about me, takes a bit really. I don’t blame her. Still she was eating now, that was good.

When I opened the door I was greeted by the sight of a dozen armored and armed men. One of course was better armed and armored than the rest, he wore a very familiar symbol on his chest. I smile of course, I’m shorter than they are and unarmed. I’m not a threat to them…in their eyes.

“Sir, do you know where you are? Don’t worry I’ll answer that question for you. This is the Forbidden Forest. There has been a treaty in place for the last one hundred and fifty years that keep the kingdom and their enforcers, that would be you, from entering without the expressed consent of the individual that lives here, that would be me. You are breaking a treaty written in blood and supported by the king. Is that something you desire to do? I’ll let you leave right now and we’ll just call this whole ordeal a mistake.”

There was a pause in the leader as he thought of my words. It was almost as though no one had spoken to him like that before. How irritating. Have things fallen out of favor that hard.

“The king no longer rules. The Holy Pope no governs the realm, as the king as beheaded for heresy. All agreements are then null and void. We have authority here, let us in. We are searching for a witch. We…”

I raised my hand and he actually stopped talking. I didn’t think that would work, they clearly aren’t spoken back to at all very often. I could see the soldiers behind him look a bit confused as well.

“What is a witch?”

I needed clarification on that. I don’t know that term save for as a slur against women who were powerful. It was never a good thing and only used for oppression. I don’t like oppression.

“A witch…a woman born with power. That is an affront to our Lord Solas and they must be exterminated. Women are not meant to have power.”

Bigots…I don’t let my smile falter at all. NO matter the century no matter the cause there are always bigots, I know how to deal with bigots. I take one step outside and shut my door. Then they don’t have any line of sight into my house and that little girl will be safe, and she won’t see what comes next.

“First of all they are called Sorcerers, NOT Witches. Witches is a bigoted name used to push women down and allow men to commit violence against them. A person born with power is a Sorcerer, or a bard, or a druid…NOT a witch. Second of all, I don’t care for this Pope who likes to commit violence against women. IN that frame of mind, I’ve decided to resist. You will not be hunting that sweet little girl anymore, and I’ve decided not to forgive you trespassing on my land. You can pray now, if you think it will help.”

I’m old, but not weak. I live alone in a rather dangerous forest…but I’m left alone. It took the creatures of this place one week after I moved in more than one hundred years ago to learn that lesson. All of them laughed a little bit, a mocking tone that I did not much appreciate but I cannot blame them either, they’re idiots…and know not what they do.

“Listen here old man….”

I didn’t want to hear his insult so I punched him square in the breast place. I held back, but only a little bit. He hit the ground hard, about fifteen yards away with his chest caved in. Geeze, I am out of practice aren’t I? Oh well, I’ll have time to get back into the swing of things.

“I’d tell all of you who I am but if you knew that you wouldn’t be here in the first place. I’m going to let you run…and who ever gets to the forest first gets to deliver my message to your Pope. The sleeping giant has awoken and will lay waste to your empire.”

I killed one more after they took a few swings, they might as well be standing still for how slow they are. I’ve been training for a very long time, first as a paladin and then as a monk. I don’t age anymore…I’m older then the country they fight for.

Okay…so I killed three before the other eight turned to run. It was a new one in the least amount of armor who was able to run the fastest. Go figure, the one with the least amount of sin in his aura is the one who would get away. Good for him. They aren’t powerful, not even hardly trained. It looks like they just grabbed people who were bullies and gave them armor and a title and sent them out to do the bidding of the Pope. I’m faster, I’m stronger…and I killed the last seven of them as the rain poured and the thunder shook the ground.

“Solas this is your fault you know. If you talked to the people who would do villainy in your name maybe they wouldn’t. You owe me for what I’m about to do and don’t for one moment think that if you don’t repay me I won’t come up there and show you just how upset I am at having to leave my peace and quiet. You can start by cleaning up these bodies…and ask Tempest to cut the storm out, I’m going to protect all the women, not just this one.”

I knew my words would carry, I haven’t spoken to the gods for a long time…and when I speak they listen. The storm…it died down very quickly and in a bright flash of light the bodies were gone. I had to smirk just a little bit…I still had it at least. That one would get lost in no time, so I had a cushion to get to the pope and kill him. I didn’t want to, but at this point I had to. There wasn’t diplomacy with this. There was murder and that was it. They needed to see their god crumble, that is how it always ended. That is how it needed to end. I thought I could get outside of the cycle.

Back in the house the little girl had been watching through the window and she scrambled back to her seat when I walked back in. The air was still thick with her fear, and well I can’t blame her. I just killed eleven people right in front of her with no weapon or spell. One hundred years ago I could have done it without her even seeing.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. You coming here was the wake up call I needed. I’m…I’m sorry things got so bad.”

I move to sit opposite her on the fire and put a kettle to warm up. We have plenty of time to move, I was going to let her sleep for a while before asking if she wanted to join me, but after a few minutes of silence and her just looking at me, she spoke first.

“I’m need to come with you. They still have my mom. Too many have been hurt. Too many have died.”

Things were bad, she wouldn’t sleep anyway would she? I just nudge the stew to her, and she picks it up and starts eating. There is a sigh that tumbles past my lips as I look at her and just nod. How could I say no really. Not that I had planned to but maybe I could have talked myself into going alone. Maybe when this is all said and done they’ll let me have my peace again. When the Pope’s body is thrown down the stairs to his followers and they see their gods have condemned them instead of helping, maybe that will be enough…but it rarely is. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

"P-please. Don't let them take me…" A witch, a young girl pleaded as she hides in your shed. You see the fear in her eyes as you hear the armored footsteps of the inquisition approached your home. Your heart thumps. They don't take heretics lightly nor one that shields them from their hold.

[luvyeni]

jeongin catching you getting off to one of his fancams after his concert…

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒  ( 양정인 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. masturbation unprotected sex, language word count. 0.6k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ first innie post of the year !! more to come definitely

jeongin was so excited to surprise you after his show; his adrenaline still running high from the concert, the screaming of his name; he loved it , he loved the ego boost it always gave him — but as the shows come to a end there’s only really one person he wants to scream his name.

you were scrolling through twitter innocently; minding your business when you came across a fancam of your boyfriend at his recent concert. he looked too damn good , the way his hips moved — definitely sent your brain into a more dangerous territory , your legs clenching together as you watch the video over and over , your hands felt like they were involuntarily moving down , in between your shorts. “mmm.” you sighed , your fingers rubbing your clothed clit. “fuck.” you moaned out.

jeongin opened the door to your apartment; immediately going to your room where knew you’d be , but he didn’t think he’d find you doing what you were doing. he heard your moans , smirking “pretty girl just couldn’t wait.” he said , then he heard it; his voice, his song. were you getting off to his fancams? he couldn’t wait any longer, his cock hard in his slack , he was ready to ravish you. “so is this what you do when you miss me?”

your eyes flew to the door where your man stood , weari that condescending smirk he wore when he would tease you. “je-jeongin.” you stuttered , stopping your movements on your cunt. “tsk , came here ready to fuck you , hear you scream my name , and here i find you getting yourself off to my fancams like a slut.” you moaned at his words. “i-innie.” he watched your hand begin to move once again. “pl-please fuck me.” he cursed under his breath, practically ripping his own clothes off , climbing into the bed with you. “that’s enough slut.” he slapped your hand. “touching what’s mine.” he said , replacing your hand with his. “fuck you’re soaked , your pussy is dripping just from watching my fancams?” you moaned. “you’re even worse than the fans.” he pushed his fingers inside your hole.

“such a noisy cunt.” he said curling his fingers inside you. “so wet , you want me that bad?” you nodded. “hold you down and fuck you within a inch of your life?” you whined. “please fuck me innie please.” he pulled his fingers out of you , bringing it to his lips , his eyes were dark as he put his fingers into his mouth. “come on spread your legs some more.” he slapped your legs. “gonna fuck this pretty pussy.”

he slid inside you , groaning as he felt your gummy walls hug his cock tightly. “oh fuck you’re so warm.” he moved his hips slowly. “fuck i can’t hold it.” he said , pulling out , your breath getting caught in your throat as he shoved his cock back into your cunt. “ugh fuck!” he moaned , holding your waist down as he pounded into you; using all of the adrenaline he had left inside him on your body. “jeongin fuck!” you finally screamed out. “fuck me!”

his grip on your lower half tightening as he used you to release all his energy. “fucking tight pussy.” he growled. “love it so much -fuck- i’m gonna cum.” he rubbed your clit. “oh my god innie.” you moaned. “i’m gonna cum!” he gave your clit a little slap. “cum for me my pretty slut.” he gave you a few sharp thrust as you came , he let out a curse before cumming deep inside you. “sh-shit.” he pulled out , stopping at the tip. “turn around.” he said , slapping your ass as you got into position. “no need to get off to my fancams baby.”

“you have me in real life to fuck you like a whore.”

©️LUVYENI

[capseycartwright]

everything that's heavy, i check it at the door (wouldn't want to do it with anyone else)

Eddie had always found Texas to be suffocating, but in the years since he’d left the state, he’d put that down to the stifling heat – surely, he was remembering the way the soaring temperatures of the summer felt, the oppressive heat and humidity of a Texas July affecting the way he remembered life in his home state to be.

It was February now, though, and Eddie still felt like he couldn’t breathe – so it wasn’t the heat, was it?

eddie goes to texas. he fights for christopher, fights with his parents, and loves buck from afar - mostly in that order.

ao3 link

an offering of my own for friends to fiances february.

Eddie had always found Texas to be suffocating, but in the years since he’d left the state, he’d put that down to the stifling heat – surely, he was remembering the way the soaring temperatures of the summer felt, the oppressive heat and humidity of a Texas July affecting the way he remembered life in his home state to be.

It was February now, though, and Eddie still felt like he couldn’t breathe – so it wasn’t the heat, was it?

Deep down, he’d always known that: the heat had long-since been a convenient excuse for his dislike of Texas, a reason to not return. California had better summers, he’d always said – warm, and dry, and close to the beach, unlike El Paso. It was a convenient excuse he could have kept using for the rest of his life, if not for the fact he found himself back in El Paso again, and not for a few days this time – no, this was a longer-term situation.

Eddie hoped it wasn’t too long-term. He had decided against selling his house in LA, in the end, Buck moving in to help him cover the mortgage, but that meant he was stuck in a month-to-month rental in El Paso, his son still living with Eddie’s parents, and everything just felt –

Suffocating. 

“This feels like old times.”

Eddie blinked up at the shadow that was obscuring his view of the late-evening sun. His sister, Sophia, was standing, hands on hips, her dark hair flowing in the evening breeze as she fixed him with a serious look. “I figured I might as well commit to regressing,” he huffed, not moving from where he was lying on the grass. “I’m already back in El Paso – mom and dad are controlling my life. Hiding in the garden because I don’t want to talk to our parents felt like the natural next move.”

Sophia barely concealed an eye roll at his self-depreciating comment but eased herself onto the grass next to him all the same – impressive, given she was nearly six months pregnant. Eddie would hear it about her back, later, but he didn’t quite have it in him to protest, in that moment. 

“I thought that dinner went surprisingly well,” she said, a serious expression on her face as she looked at Eddie.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Sophia cracked, a cackle escaping her mouth as she shook her head. “No, it was bad,” she agreed. “It feels like we’re teenagers again – you’re seventeen, I’m nineteen, and neither of us can do anything right.” 

Eddie grinned. That had been the best part of growing up, sometimes – Sophia was barely a year older than him, and as much as Eddie had borne the brunt of expectation, being the old boy in the family, Sophia had dealt with her fair share of their mother’s expectations too, Helena Diaz having the perfect vision for her daughters lives, one that Sophia had never adhered to. 

Sophia had left for Oregon when she was eighteen, for college, and came back with a degree in interior design, an East coast husband with a terrible beard, a career of her own, and no plans for children – well, until now. Late, by their mother’s standards, the opposite to Eddie, who’d given her a grandchild years too soon. 

“When you have a baby girl you name after mom, you’ll be in her good books,” Eddie hummed, knowing he earned the punch he got from his older sister. That was sort of his job, really, to wind Sophia up - it was in the younger brother contract. 

“Yeah, that’s going to happen when hell freezes over,” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to them, Eddie. I know that they like to peck, and push, and they think their way is the only way, the right way – but it’s not. You’re a damn good parent, regardless of what they believe – you’ve been doing this alone for so long, and I know I’m not exactly a parent yet, but I can’t imagine doing it alone. They should be proud of you, for how you’ve managed - not judgemental.” 

Eddie was quiet, for a second. It was true, that for a few years, he had done it alone – but he hadn’t been alone for a long time now. Buck had been the kind of coparent he never thought he deserved, attentive and present, willing to pitch in for the good, and the bad. It had started with Buck being a fun uncle, sure, but his role in Christopher’s life was so much bigger, so much more, now – he was a co parent to Eddie. 

Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to express quite how grateful he was to Buck for that. 

read the rest on ao3

[maybejj]

SET ME FREE - INTRODUCTION

↠ masterlist ↞

SOCIAL MEDIA AU, 18+ MDNI

jj x sarahs!twin!sister!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, addiction

summary: There’s four cameron siblings. Rafe Cameron who has made a name for himself in the corporate world without his father’s help and recently got engaged. Sarah Cameron who is extremely kind and living life the way she wants with the love of her life. Wheezie Cameron who is smart enough to build her own computer and applying to ivy league colleges. And then there’s you. Sarah’s twin sister. Stuck in your fathers clutches and the plans he wants for you, you feel suffocated and trapped. With no one to understand how you feel, you turn to an anonymous website that allows you to vent to a stranger with no repercussions and no strings attached. However, this stranger has his own problems. He’s got anger issues, daddy’s issues, and quite possibly mommy issues. Who would have thought you and jj maybank would have so much in common.

Part 1

Notes: i have a problem and someone needs to take my phone away. anyways, new story 🙂 apparently my brain thinks that since gossip girl is almost done i needed another story to replace it lol anyways, let meknow your thoughts/theories/concerns! in this story reader & the pogues are 20, rafe is 23, and wheezie is 17. this story will also be a bit darker than normal!

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

Pairing: dad!chris x teacher!afab!reader, friends to lovers, nonidol!au

Synopsis: Go ahead and cry, little girl, Nobody does it like you do, I know how much it matters to you, I know that you got daddy issues, And if you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do, I'd run away and hide with you

Warnings: domestic fluff, angst, tears and all, references to the neighborhood, ft. 2racha, lemme know if I've missed something

A/n: the neighborhood. They did this to me. Reader isn't going to be mentioned on the story a lot...well at least in this first chapter. I swear I got carried away with this I didn't mean for it to be this long 😔 it wasn't even meant to be a chapter like story...

She wasn’t his. A constant reminder that knocked at the back of his mind.

Chris wasn’t the kind of man to complain over every small detail. Life had handed him its fair share of punches, and he’d taken his fair share without even flinching or losing the warmth in his heart. Anyone who saw him on the outside would think of him as the one that had everything good happening to him. But on the inside, the scars remained- ugly and tender. Before it all turned grey, he was actually living the life. A newlywed with a beautiful baby three months in the making. Victoria, his now ex-wife was an extravagant person and Chris knew that but she still had other loveable qualities which he doted on. Come five years down the line, and the secrets began to come to light.

Victoria had always wanted more. More money, more status, more luxury. She knew Chris had all of that so she just decided to play along with his domestic loveable fantasies. And Chris had known this about her from the start, but he had convinced himself that love would be enough. That their little circle-just him, Victoria, and their now four-year-old daughter, Mia-would be enough.

He was wrong.

It started with the late nights out, business dinners and events with people whose names Chris never recognized. Which Chris saw as karma for constantly keeping his late nights at work too but she always came back with excuses that didn’t really add up but then again, he pushed it aside, to exhausted from his own work and raising Mia to argue. Then it was her appearance. Disheveled hair, messed up make up, hickeys? Sure, he’s been lacking in being the romantic husband but he didn’t remember giving her any of those.

“Can we talk, baby?” he had tried to ask her one evening, when he put Mia to bed. They were in their shared bedroom which was beginning to feel lonelier by the week. Victoria sat at her vanity, in pristine white doing her night routine. “About?” she responded flatly.

“U-us,” he takes off his shirt and folds it neatly. “Am I not making you feel good anymore?” she paused, looked at him through the mirror and chuckled “What’s making you say that, Chris?”

“You’ve got marks. And I haven’t given you any…”

She applied cream under her eyes. “isn’t that supposed to make you feel bad?” he gave a tight-lipped expression “Baby,” he walked over to her. “I-I know I haven’t been as romantic as I was before and that’s on me. But it’s making me feel uncomfortable that I’m seeing this and that it wasn’t me who- “

Victoria sighed, setting down the jar of cream with an exasperated clink. She turned in her chair, crossing her legs as she reagree Chris with an almost amused expression.

“You’re being dramatic,” she said cooly. “It’s just a few marks. Why does it matter where they came from?” Chris felt his stomach twist. “Because I love you. because I-”

“Love isn’t enough, Chris,” she interrupted, her tone sharp. “You think just because you get to come home every night and kiss Mia goodnight it’ll make me so obsessed with you that I’d forget my own needs?” his brows furrowed as he plopped himself on the edge of the bed. “I-I don’t understand…” Victoria rolled her eyes. “It’s not just about her, Chris. I have needs too. I need just as much excitement and love as Mia gets. I need passion, I need to be with someone who treats me like I deserve to be loved not like another chore at the end of the day.” Chris felt something crack inside his chest. “A chore?” He echoed, voice above a whisper. Isn’t that what she made him feel like? Barely giving him any breathing space with all the ‘don’t forget to pick these up at the store’, or ‘I can’t make it blah blah blah I have an appointment’ and all the other useless excuses he carried on his shoulder.

“And Mia? What does she need. What does she deserve?”

“Don’t start that. She deserves stability. You work all the time too and I’ve told you timelessly that you can’t be keeping your late schedule when we have her to think about. Look, the difference between us is just that I’ve found a way to make it work for me. To balance you and my…real needs.”

Realization dawned like a cold slap to the face. “There’s someone else.” She didn’t deny it. Didn’t. Even. Flinch. Victora turned back to the mirror, picking up her cream again as if the conversation had already ended in her mind. “You don’t have to worry about me, baby. I can take care of myself and leave. We’ll file for divorce. And I’ll take Mia.” He couldn’t even understand her anymore. She just wants to leave? She’s not going to hear his side of the story? Taking his baby girl?! His eyes shot up. “Like hell you will.” Chris rarely raised his voice at her before, but that night, the betrayal shattered something inside him. “So that’s it? You’re walking away from your family for a supposedly bigger paycheck?”

Her eyes still focused on her reflection she spoke, “This is a blessing in disguise, Chris. Take it or leave it.”

And that was when the real war began.

The woman had connections, the bitch. Lawyers who knew how to twist the narrative. Chris worked long hours making him ‘too busy’ to be a full-time parent. He didn’t come from money making him ‘unstable’ compared to Victoria’s new fiancé- a wealthy, well-respected businessman. The court never even asked who Mia wanted to stay with. Despite everything Chris fought. Hard. But the corrupt system wasn’t built to favor fathers like him. In the saddening end, Victoria was granted full custody. He was left with weekends and whatever stolen moments he could manage. Innocent Mia had sobbed in his arms the first time she had to leave. Chris had nearly broken down right there with her. She couldn’t understand it all but what she did know was that being with her father was never enough. He was so close yet so far away.

At the time Chris didn’t have a lot of people to lean on, but if there were two people who saw everything from the beginning, it was Changbin and Jisung. They saw it all. They were the ones who stayed- when everyone whispered about how he should’ve seen it coming or how maybe he just wasn’t enough. Changbin was the first to throw a punch when some asshole had the nerve to call Chris pathetic for loving someone who was visibly used him. Jisung had been the one to show up at his doorstep at 3 A.M., with food, refusing to leave until Chris had at least eaten something. Now, they were the ones who made sure Mia had people who truly adored her and treated her like family, even when her mother made her feel like a second thought.

-

The school bell echoed through the courtyard, signaling freedom for dozens of gleeful kids. Chris leaned against his car, scanning the crowd until his eyes landed on her- Mia, sprinting towards him with wild abandon, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders.

“Daddy!” She screamed, her face lighting like the sun. Chris opened his arms just in time for her to crash into him. He lifted her off the ground spinning her around as pure joy surged through him.

Mia’s eyes sparkled as she hugged him tight. “Can we get ice cream before dinner tonight?” he chuckled. “Ice cream before dinner? That sounds like trouble, baby.” “Please?” she begged, tilting her head in that way that always melted him. He sighed dramatically. “Anything for my babygirl.”

Chris’ apartment wasn’t grand. Well not as grand as the one he used to have with his ex-wife. But it was warm. Lived-in. The type of place where every corner held memories- some old some new, most centered around Mia, of course. Mia’s drawings were taped to the fridge, stick figures holding hands with big smiles and a sun in the constant corner that shone too brightly. Tiny pink socks and stuffed animals littered the couch, evidence of the weekend play sessions that always ended with Mia curled up against his side, fighting sleep just to stay up a little longer with him.

When she was with him, Chris was dad in every sense of the word. He cooked her meals even when they turned out slightly burnt, he helped her with homework (which explaining to her sometimes confused him in the process). When it came to bedtime stories, he helped her pick them out and carried her to the bed when she fell asleep mid-play. Some Saturdays he would take her to the studio and sometimes it was unavoidable. Mia was always curious about her dad’s job. Plus, she vaguely remembers that she used to see him working with different genres of people when she was younger, back when she had more than weekends with him.

So, after stopping for her favorite snack on a Saturday morning, they arrived at the studio. When they walked in, Mia’s eyes widened as she took everything in. tiny sparks of color filled the faint memories of this place in her mind. The soundproof walls, the scattered yet arranged equipment, the glowing computer screens displaying colorful waveforms. “Woah…” She bounced forward, her tiny hands gripping her bunny in its ears. Chris smiled watching her.

“Cool, yeah?” Chris ruffled before guiding her to the main recording room. “Come on, I’ll show you where the chaos happens.” Before they could go any further, a familiar voice called out.

“Yaa! Is that my favorite troublemaker?!” Mia’s face lit up instantly as Changbin appeared from one of the side rooms, arms spread wide. “Uncle Binnie!” she squealed, running to him without hesitation. Chris barely had time before she leapt into Changbin’s arms, giggling as he spun her around. “Look at you, getting so big! What happened to tiny Mia I used to know?”

“I’m still tiny,” she giggled. “I dunno…you’re almost as big as your dad now,” He teased, shooting the other man a smirk. Chris rolled his eyes. “Funny.” They got in to the studio together. Chris dropped Mia’s backpack on the couch at the end of the room, as Changbin sat her on his lap.

“Where’s J. One?” he asked. As if on cue the door opened with Jisung walking in, coffee in hand. His eyes darted straight to the tiny person on Changbin’s lap, playfully blinking in disbelief. “No way. Is that my Mia?”

Mia gasped. “Uncle ‘Sung!” she wriggled out of the other’s arms and ran straight for Jisung who caught her one-handed with ease, throwing her into his arms. “Daang, I haven’t seen you in forever!” he said dramatically, pretending to stagger under her weight. “You sure you’re not twenty now?” she squeaked, hitting his shoulder “I’m six!”

“Six? No way. You’re lying,” he teased dropping her.

Chris shook his head, watching as they fell into playful banter. Mia looked genuinely happy, completely forgetting about everything else. And it made Chris forget about everything to for a while. At least on most Saturdays.

-

Sundays were the worst. For both of them. Sunday nights felt like losing her all over again. Chris never liked to bring up Victoria unless Mia did first. He knew better than to talk shit about her mother in front of her, no matter how much resentment he held. She was too young to understand the full extent of what happened, and he didn’t want her carrying the weight of their broken marriage. But sometimes, she asked questions. And those were the hard moments.

After dinner one Sunday, with Mia’s bags packed and toys arranged, Chris was brushing her hair. She sat on the couch, the bunny clutched to her chest. She had been quiet. They were always strangely quiet on Sunday nights. He didn’t push, but Mia always spoke when she was ready. Mr. Bean played softly on the TV in the background when she finally spoke.

“Do you like Mr. Dlyan?”. He froze, his hands pausing mid-stroke. That was the name of Victoria’s new husband. The one that seemed to have wider pockets according to her. He forced himself to keep his voice light. “Why do you ask, baby?”

Mia shrugged, kicking her feet. “Mommy says he’s nice. And that he takes good care of us.” “He’s mommy’s new husband, but you know that already.” He said carefully. “Do you like him?” she hesitated, her tiny fingers fiddling with the edge of her animal’s ear. “He buys me lots of toys,” she admitted. “And he says I can call him Dad if I want to.” His grip on the brush tightened. He took a slow breath, forcing down the lump in his throat.

“And do you want to?”

She looked up at him then, big, honest eyes searching his face. “No.”

Relief washed over him so quickly it made him feel guilty. He cleared his throat and set the brush down, gently pulling her into his lap. “Mia, listen to me,” he said softly. “You can call him whatever makes you comfortable. But just because mommy married someone else doesn’t make me any less of a father. Especially your father. That will never change. Okay?”

Mia nodded, gripping his shirt. “I don’t want him to be my dad. I already have one.” He smiled pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s right, baby. You do.” She snuggled closer. “But mommy says I should be happy with him. That its better this way.”

Chris shut his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his emotions before they could break through. He hated the idea of Mia feeling pressured, of her thinking she had to accept this new man as a father figure just to keep the peace. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Mia,” he murmured. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel.”

She turned back to the tv. “But I want to be with you.” Chris held her a little tighter, kissing her forehead like he always did when the words I love you weren’t enough.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

The sky was painted in muted hues of blue and orange, the sun seemed reluctant to set as Chris’s car idled in front of his ex-wife’s pristine suburban house. Mia sat in the backseat, silent, her small fingers anxiously twisting the strap of her backpack. Chris stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror, his chest tightening at the sight of her downcast face.

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he said softly, hating the weight of those words. Mia didn’t move. Her lips wobbled, and tears threatened to spill over her long lashes. Chris unbuckled his seatbelt and turned in his seat, reaching for her hand. “Hey,” he whispered, “It’s okay.” “It’s not okay,” she sniffled, her voice breaking. “I hate going back. Mommy doesn’t even talk to me ask, Daddy. She’s always busy with her friends and her phone! Its better being with you daddy! I don’t wanna go back!”

“I know it’s hard,” he murmured, cupping her cheek. “But you’ll be back with me on Friday. We'll do anything you want, yeah? Just you and me.” She tried to smile, but crumbled into tears. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her into his arms, letting her cry against his shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, baby,” he whispered, his own voice thick. “But I promise- Daddy always comes back for you.” her fingers clutched his jacket like a lifeline. “I love you, Daddy.” She choked out.

“I love you too, Mia. So much.”

That was the loop. The constant loop that went on and on. Chris was so tired of it all.

Till you came in.

Gawddd I swear I didn't want it to be this long...this was prolly just like an intro ig...I don't know 😭

Taglist:

@pessimisticloather @pixie-felix

You can check my pinned post to join my taglist!

~kc💗

[marauder-misprint]

Hi,

I like your writings very much, so I came with a story request.

I was thinking of something between the fem!reader x Sirius in the Marauders alternate universe. I leave the gaps to you of course, what I have in mind is something like this:

The reader is in the Syltherin building during Hogwarts and in the years before she graduated she was in love with Sirius and they were together a few times. but she was never liked or appreciated by the marauders because of her house and friends. Then there was a death eater. But she never went to Azkaban. She has close relations with the Malfoy family, they are like family. (the reader could be Draco's godmother etc.)

Voldemort may not return in this time period, so Sirius and Lupin are still alive and everything is fine at Hogwarts; For example, Harry stays with Sirius during the summer vacations (some good things) **But there is a new transfer to the school. The reader's son arrives late at school and enters the Syltherine (he comes from Beauxbatons or Durmstang because his mother, the reader, has business in another country. Obviously the detail here is not very important :D)

I've given a lot of background details, but what I really want to read from you is that after the reader's son arrives at Hogwarts, there will be a parent-teacher meeting or a ball or whatever you can think of that will bring all the parents back to school. No one knows who the father of the reader's son is (except the Malfoys), but Sirius and Lupin suspect Rosier or Crouch, but the boy's jet-black hair and slanted eyes tell a different story. - I think Remus would be the first one who would have something in his head when he saw the boy for the first time. I would also like to see the reader x Sirius encounter who hid this forbidden relationship child for years.

I wrote too long but I think we needed a background story, I would be happy if you write it. I'm excited to read it as soon as possible.

Much much love.

Hi! Thank you so much for this request! I hope I did it justice. ❤︎ I really really like this concept and enjoyed writing it

'He looks like his father'

Sirius Black x fem!Slytherin!reader

3.6k words

cw: mention of war, y/n y/l/n, angst if you squint?

Your son often asked about his father. You understood his curiosity about the man he never met and whose identity few knew. When he asked about his father’s name, you told him it was irrelevant as his father was dead; you actually had no idea about Sirius’ status, but the lie was the easiest thing. As for your son’s other questions, you kept things vague. There were some things that were just so definitive of him. 

After telling him a story about Sirius and the better parts of him, you would let your thoughts linger on your past. 

Your parents were friendly with select pure blood families, including the Blacks. At parties, you’d be put in a room with the other children. Narcissa and Andromeda Black took a liking to you. Those parties were your first interactions with Sirius, although he didn’t give you much attention then. As you got older, you were more friendly, but you still stayed mostly with the girls. 

A lot of that friendliness vanished the moment you were sorted into Slytherin and Sirius into Gryffindor. You knew there had to be some residual amicability between you as you fell victim to the Marauders’ pranks far less than other Slytherins. By third year, you and Sirius were consistently getting into loud arguments in the corridors and the occasional duel. And then something changed in fifth year. There was a heated debate and harsh words were exchanged, yet somehow you ended up in a broom closet with Sirius. 

You had thought the rest would be history. But that wasn’t how life worked out. It was an on-and-off relationship filled with petty breakups and crawling back with half-assed apologies. You knew his friends had more influence over your relationship than you would’ve liked, but they were Sirius’ chosen family and you were a reminder of his birth family. His friends were never particularly nice to you. They judged you for your pride and hated you for your friends. They acted like you personally chose your house and family name. 

Right out of Hogwarts, you became a Death Eater at the urging of your parents and friends. You followed along with the rules and fought when requested. But as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you ran. In a foreign country, you burned your arm until the dark mark was indiscernible, although the magic within it still burned. You covered the burn with new tattoos. 

You lived in various countries throughout Europe with your son, naming him Perseus after the constellation. It was the only Black tradition you carried on. 

Your work as a curse breaker required you to visit England. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but you reached out to Narcissa. She was ecstatic to hear from you and immediately invited you to the Malfoy Manor. You accepted on the condition that your son also be welcome. She was delighted to find out that you had a son, telling you she had one as well. 

“Dear, it’s so lovely to see you!” Narcissa exclaimed as you arrived at Malfoy Manor with Percy holding your hand. “This is Draco.”

Her son was standing at her leg, clutching her robes with a death grip.

“Hello, Draco,” you said, addressing the small white-blonde child. “This is Percy. I think you two will be friends.”

Your dark haired son extended a hand to Draco, who looked up at his mother for assurance. Narcissa nodded. Then Draco let go of her and took Percy’s hand. Then they were running off somewhere to play. 

“Would you like some tea?” Narcissa offered.

“That would be lovely,” you answered, following her through her home.

Over tea, you caught up on everything that had happened since you disappeared, including the downfall of Voldemort, the death of the Potters and the Malfoys’ avoidance of Azkaban.

“Enough of that heavy stuff. I must know. Is there a man in your life?” Narcissa asked, slowly stirring her tea. 

You laughed. “No, Cissa. I travel too much for work.”

“Then, pray tell, who is little Percy’s father?”

You gave her a pointed look. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone. Percy doesn’t know and thinks that he is dead.”

Narcissa leaned over the table, more intrigued than ever. 

“I won’t even tell Lucius. Who?”

“Your cousin. Sirius.”

She gasped. “No!” 

“Please, you must’ve thought it as soon as you saw him,” you teased. Percy shared many of his father’s looks, including his signature dark curls. 

“That means that Draco and Percy are practically cousins! Oh, you must visit more often, dear. You’re literally family!”

You smiled. She had taken the news better than you expected and this first visit was the beginning of a tradition. Although your work kept you traveling around Europe, you would visit Malfoy Manor for Christmas and periodically throughout the summer. Because your work kept you around eastern Europe, you enrolled Percy in Durmstrang when he came of age. You were sad to cut his dark curls to fit the uniform, but you knew he needed an education and the firm hand that Durmstrang was known for.  

Then opportunity presented itself: a job offer that would settle you in England for a few years. You discussed it with Percy. It would mean transferring to Hogwarts and leaving all of his friends. 

“But I’d get to go to school with Draco?” he asked excitedly.

You nodded and it was quickly decided. He would transfer. You wrote to Albus Dumbledore to make it all official. You started telling Percy more stories about your time at Hogwarts, how you were in Slytherin, just like Draco is and as Lucius and Narcissa were, and how his father was in Gryffindor. You told him about Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest. 

“Our rule stays the same, Percy. If you’re going to break school rules, don’t get caught.”

Percy laughed and ran a hand through his chin-length hair. 

“Can I grow my hair out? What’s their uniform?” he asked, sounding hopeful at the potential of keeping his curls. 

“Grow it as long as you’d like. But for the love of Merlin, wash it and take care of it. I won’t be having you look like a ghoul.”

---

After James and Lily died and Sirius arrived at their house, he found Harry and didn’t let go. He took the boy and went to Remus; it was all he could think to do. As beyond furious at Peter and ruined as he was, saving his godson was his priority. He and Remus agreed to raise Harry together. The boy with the lightning shaped scar grew up knowing love, knowing of his parents’ story and knowing of the magical world. 

“Did you read Harry’s letter?” Remus asked, walking into the kitchen.

He had read it when it arrived earlier that morning and left it on the table for Sirius. It was the first one after sending Harry off to Hogwarts that fall.

“What’d he say?” Sirius replied, not looking up from the Daily Prophet he was reading. 

“There’s a transfer student from Durmstrang. Apparently he’s close to the Malfoys.”

Sirius hummed. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in a transfer student. They were pretty rare among the wizarding schools. The student being close to the Malfoys, although a point of interest, wasn’t something he cared for. 

But after a minute, he asked, “Well, what’s the boy’s name?”

He knew that Remus wouldn’t have brought up the boy unless there was something more intriguing about him.

“Percy… Y/L/N.”

Sirius slowly set down the paper and looked at Remus with a stony expression.

“Oh. She has a kid then.” He cleared his throat. “Makes sense that he’s close with the Malfoys then. Death Eaters, the bunch of ‘em.” 

“Who do you suppose is the father?” Remus mused. He knew he should tread lightly on the topic, but he was genuinely curious about what Sirius thought of his Hogwarts fling having a kid.

“Dunno. Junior?” Sirius offered without much conviction.

“I was thinking maybe Rosier… Suppose they both have that idiot recklessness that she likes.”

Sirius frowned at Remus, knowing that dig was aimed at him as well. He was one who returned to you time and time again, despite what his friends convinced him was his better judgment. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Remus asked as he put a kettle on the stovetop. 

Sirius froze for a moment. There had been a night a year after they graduated when they ran into each other at a bar. The combination of residual feelings, alcohol and stress of war brought them together for the night. Sirius hadn’t told anyone about it and planned on taking it to the grave.

“Not since graduation. Now that you mention it, I think she was getting cozy with Rosier back then,” Sirius said, picking his paper back up.

“Would be a shame if it was him though.”

“Why’s that, Moony?” There was an edge to his voice.

“Moody took care of him pretty quick, didn’t he? Probably didn’t even know he was going to be a dad. And the boy’s grown up without a father.”

Sirius scoffed. “Better no father than him.”

---

Sirius and Remus were usual supporters of the Gryffindor quidditch team, especially since Harry was seeker. They attended every match Gryffindor played, apparating into Hogsmeade and walking to the pitch. The Malfoys also regularly attended games to support Draco. When Narcissa insisted that you come to a match with them, she didn’t consider that Sirius might be there. 

You were greatly enjoying yourself. Quidditch was always entertaining and it was nice to see some of your old teachers. You would’ve been lying if being back at school didn’t raise various feelings, but it wasn’t something you were going to deal with right away. After Slytherin’s win, you followed the Malfoys down to the ground to greet Draco. You didn’t even notice when you passed Sirius and Remus, who were waiting for Harry to find them. 

“Huh… looks like she’s here,” Remus muttered, nudging Sirius and jutting his chin in the direction you were walking. 

Sirius didn’t say anything. He hadn’t expected to see you. He was also taken aback by how good you looked; he was rendered speechless. 

Then a boy pushed between the men.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, turning to give them a brief smile. Then he started to run again. “Oi! Mum!” he called. 

As Sirius watched you pull the boy decked in Slytherin gear into a hug, Remus had to take a double take. The dark curls, the striking grey eyes, the smile. There was one thing on Remus’ mind: that was not Evan Rosier’s son.

“Percy!” you exclaimed. “Oh, your hair!”

“Looks good, don’t it?”

You gave Narcissa an amused look before saying, “Just like your father’s.” 

“Aunt Cissa, Uncle Lucius! Hey!” Percy said, breaking out of your hug. “Wasn’t Draco brilliant?”

As Percy talked with the Malfoys, you spotted Remus and Sirius over his head. Your breath hitched at the sight. With them was James Potter? Or that’s what you thought. Except this James was still 15 and very much not dead. You looked away from them, trying to listen to the conversation happening around you. Your mind, however, drifted to Sirius and the fact that he was here. It was the closest Percy had been to his father ever. And this was not the moment for Percy to find out his dad was, in fact, not dead. 

“Butterbeers in Hogsmeade?” Narcissa offered the group, which was slowly growing as more of the Slytherin team and their parents gathered.

The group eagerly agreed. For some reason, you glanced back at Sirius and Remus. The James-boy had disappeared and they were both looking at you. You reached for Narcissa’s arm.

“I’ll meet you there. I have to talk to some people first.”

She followed your gaze to Remus and Sirius. She nodded and ushered the group ahead, including Percy. You walked toward the former Gryffindors. 

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” you said dryly.  

“My godson invited us,” Sirius said firmly. Now that you were standing in front of him, he had conflicting feelings.

“Your godson?”

“James and Lily’s son. Harry,” Remus explained. 

He assumed you knew of the Potters’ passing. Everyone did. It was what ended the war.

You nodded. “James 2.0 from the looks of it.”

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, he gets that a lot.” He paused, giving you a once over. “So, you’re here.”

“Yeah,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Cissa invited me to watch Draco-” Sirius made a face. “-and I thought it would be good to see my son.”

“Your son? You have a kid?” Remus asked, pretending as if he and Sirius hadn’t known about this through Harry’s letters.

“Is that so hard to believe, Lupin? Potters’ had a kid. Why can’t I?” you asked defensively. 

“So, erm, your husband stay home then?” Sirius asked, not letting Remus respond. 

“Don’t have one.”

“Boyfriend?” Sirius furrowed his brows. 

“No.”

“No father-figure in your son’s life then?” Remus asked with his arms crossed. 

“He went to Durmstrang. Got plenty of guidance there. He’s fine. Plus, there’s… Lucius. If he even counts,” you said with a sigh. “How have you two been? Raising Harry as exhausting as Percy’s been?”

“Percy?” Sirius repeated. 

“Merlin, Black, my son. Perseus.”

“Like the myth?”

“Like the constellation.”

That was an interesting tidbit of information, Remus thought.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who’s his father then? I don’t recall you having a boyfriend when we graduated,” Remus inquired, feigning his curiosity. At this point, he was 90% sure that he was standing with both parents right now. 

He got the confirmation he needed as your face immediately dropped into something cold.

“That’s a rather personal question, Lupin.”

“Well?” Sirius followed up. “Who is it?” 

You didn’t answer. You opted to keep the cold expression on your face until one of them changed the topic. Remus wasn’t going to drop it though. 

“He looks like his father, doesn’t he? Bit uncanny. Just like how Harry looks like James.”

You clenched your jaw, narrowing your eyes at Remus. Seeing your son once, Remus picked up what Lucius and countless others missed. 

“Who does he look like?” Sirius asked Remus, making Remus laugh. 

Of course Sirius didn’t see himself in Percy. You never can see how someone looks like you, but to Remus, they were incredibly similar. It didn’t help that when Percy had ran past them, Sirius had been paying more attention to you than your child. 

“You,” you breathed. You didn’t want Remus to be the one who told Sirius.

Sirius coughed, turning back to you.

“Excuse me?” he croaked.

“Percy looks like you,” you clarified as you looked him in the eyes.

“He looks like his father?” Sirius whispered to himself as he slowly pieced it all together. “I have a son?”

You nodded, returning your expression to its previous coldness.

“Which I don’t understand. Pads, you told you two haven’t seen each other since graduation and if he’s Harry’s age…” Remus said.

“Pads lied to you, Lupin,” you chuckled. 

“Just like how you lied to me?” Sirius asked you, taking a step forward.

“I didn’t lie. I just never told you.” 

“Same thing!” he exclaimed.

“I’m… going to find Harry… or something. I’ll find you later, Sirius,” Remus said before walking away. This was obviously a conversation you two needed to have without an audience. 

“You never told me you were pregnant!” Sirius continued. “In the past sixteen years, not a single letter about this?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “What would you have done if I had? It was one night of a rekindled school flame that didn’t even see the sun rise. It wasn’t like I was expecting a relationship from you.”

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“Would you have? Would you have dropped everything for me and him?”

He didn’t answer right away and it drew a cold laugh from your lips.

“Exactly, Sirius. Remember who we were sixteen years ago. Remember what was going on. I knew you wouldn’t come so I didn’t call. And, trust me, I’m not asking you now. I’m still not calling. We are doing just fine without you.”

“What is ‘just fine’? Socializing with the Malfoys?” he spat.

“They’re family.”

“Through me. They are family, through me.”

“I’ve always been close with Cissa. She’s just married now.”

“Yeah, sure.”

There’s a beat of silence. You crossed your arms across your chest as you looked briefly in the direction of Hogsmeade. 

“Well, I told them I’d meet ‘em in the village so…” you said, preparing yourself for the walk.

“Can I meet him?” Sirius asked softly. 

You didn’t answer. Every part of you was screaming to say no, to reiterate that he wasn’t to be a father to your Percy.

“I want to meet my son.”

“Sirius,” you warned.

He took another step toward you and reached for your hand. He had a soft look in his eyes. 

“Please, if he’s really my son, I want to meet him. You hid him from me for sixteen years and probably would’ve for more if Remus hadn’t called you out.”

“What would I even introduce you as?” You couldn’t believe that you were even considering this. Too bad you still have that damn soft spot for Sirius.

“His father?”

You laughed. “Fuck no. Not only has he never heard your name, I told him his dad is dead. To introduce you as his not-dead dad in the middle of the school year? No. Plus, there’s no reason to introduce you now for you to never interact with him again.”

“Why would I never interact with him again? He’s my son.”

“Nom he’s my son. You’re basically a sperm donor.”

“What if I want to be in his life?”

You pulled your hand out of his and stepped away from him.

“That’s not an option, Sirius.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because we are fine without you. We have our life and it’s good. I don’t need you coming and ruining it. You’ll just disappear when someone reminds you how vile I actually am.”

“I won’t disappear,” he tried to convince you, taking a step forward every time you took a step back. “Now that I know I have a son, I can’t walk away from this. I won’t.”

You scoff at him. “But you could walk away from me time and time again when we were here? You could walk away from me after a quick reunion shag? You have more loyalty to a boy you haven’t even properly met.”

“I was younger then. Stupid. Give me a chance to stay in your life, his life. I promise I won’t walk away this time.”

He looked at you with pleading eyes; how you love those grey eyes and cherished that Percy had inherited them. 

“Introduce me as an old school friend. Please.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine.”

You turned and started walking. Sirius quickly fell in step with you. You walked in silence and you felt like you were sixteen again on a date with Sirius. Except you weren’t kids anymore. You were adults and you had a kid together. A kid you didn’t tell him about.

“You, erm, you look good,” Sirius said after a while.

Your face flushed as it would have years ago. Some things never changed. 

“Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

He smiled and nudged your shoulder with his. Then he let curiosity get the best of him.

“So, I, ah, obviously, I know you took the mark. What happened with all that?”

You tensed. It wasn’t your favorite subject to talk about, but you knew why Sirius was asking it. If he was serious about being in your and Percy’s lives, he needed to know what he was walking into. You pulled up your left sleeve to reveal the various tattoos that covered the burned skin. 

“I took care of it. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was out. I wasn’t going to put my kid in the way of a war so I went east. Made a name for myself in the curse breaker industry.”

Sirius nodded. “I fought. Looked for you behind every mask, hoping I would never find you. I didn’t want to see you dead or going to Azkaban.”

“So, erm, what do you do now? Got a job?”

“Raise Harry and help Remus with whatever project he’s working on. Got that Black fortune to fund everything else.”

“Course you do,” you said. 

Silence fell over you as you continued down the path. You didn’t know what else to say to Sirius at the moment. You didn’t know if you should be telling him all about Percy and everything you’ve told the boy about him. You decided to see how things played out between the boys before rehashing your entire life to Sirius. Leaves rustled in the wind as the path became more inclined, a signal you were almost at Hogsmeade.

“Where does… where does this leave us?” Sirius asked as you reached the entrance to the village.

“What do you mean?”

“Us. You and me.”

“Us…”

“I meant when I said I want to be in your life, in Percy’s. So, I was thinking I’d like to give us another chance. Maybe we’ll get it right this time.” 

You pressed your lips together as you studied Sirius’ face. His offer sounded genuine. 

“We’ll see how this goes,” you answer, gesturing to the Three Broomsticks. “Meet your son. Play nice with the Malfoys. And we can talk about it later.”

[frillydolle]

Would low honor Arthur do anything nice for his darling on valentine's day? I need to know -

lowhonor arthur morgan x female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ suggestive , he wants u so bad

VALENTINE'S DAY, the day of expressing love and sweet affection to the one. someone you absolutely adore from head to toe, showing just how much you love with words or with action, depending on who you are. arthur morgan wasn't those types of people.

arthur was rough 'n' tough, took all from everything, heavy blood in hid hands and it filled him with pride making other people miserable, especially with you since you were such an easy girl to tease! he couldn't help it :(

he adores seeing ur pretty pout, ur lashes fluttering the tears away if he gets too mean, or how you'd shove him if he got even meaner with you. to him, if it was funny like to you, he was just kidding. well, most of the time. he was just kidding, right?

you didn't expect much from him on valentine's day. he was a wanted man, and this was the life the two of you live. only ur thinking about him changed once you walked into ur tent, a letter? a note?... it even had a flower beside it, one of your favourites.

dear [your name],

i know I've been busy, but i still like you a lot. well, more than i tell you, and i mean it every time time i tell you. was hoping you would let me take out from camp, just two of us. been stuck here for too long.

a.m

huh. he's never acted like that before.. was he planning something? no, he wouldn't be. he's too— egotistical, even too self-centered for that. you knew he cared about himself more than anyone else. just as you were about to turn around, u felt someone's chest pressed about your back, soon wrapping their hands around your torso. he came close to your neck.

“didya like my lil' note, sugar? made it just fer ya before i left.” arthur says against your ear, his rumbling with each word he spoke. a small smile forms as your face as he spins you round to face, his hands wrapping around your wrists.

what was he doing— you felt your heart race a little move as you felt ur legs hit ur cot as he was walking towards you. he always knew he made you nervous and he'd often tease and rile you up about it. he was handsome, yes, but could just be so intimidating...

“think we should get out to rhodes, spend a little time by the saloon, doll...” he says before he takes your hand and practically pins you down to your cot, he gets on top of you as you felt butterflies flying crazy in your stomach, feeling every nerve and excitement going through your veins.

“then, i think we should get a room. how's that sound, honey?”

it sounds perfect.

[myjjongie]

✶ PLAYING GIRLFRIEND ── l. heeseung

IN WHICH: your best friend heeseung, who also so happens to be a player. needs a girlfriend to ward off all the girls on valentine’s day. who better to help him? you of course!

PAIRING: bsf player!heeseung x bsf fem!reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, skinship, fake dating, best friends, pining, fluff, slight friends to lovers, slow burn (???) WORD COUNT: 1.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: another day another 10 am post cause i can't handle a decent sleep schedule... late vday one shot i never intended to make LOL. like the way i saw a love and deepspace fanart for caleb with this scenario and got inspired. my brain refuses to think on its own, but god forbid i see something good... my brain goes "yeah write that." man... but alas here's another heeseung one shot for the masterlist :3

it was valentine’s day. a holiday you didn’t dislike nor particularly cared for. it was just another day in february to you.

but for you, one person usually made the day eventful. the person in question? your best friend heeseung, well precisely your childhood best friend. he had always been known throughout your school years as a notorious player. which meant heeseung’s locker always happened to be filled to the brim with chocolates every valentine’s day.

by the end of the holiday there was no need to sulk over receiving nothing. after all, you’d always end up eating heeseung’s fair share of chocolates. even if he was a player of sorts. he showed true appreciation for what the girls gave him. due to that, a pile of chocolates would form on his desk at home every year.

even after becoming college students, the chocolate giving didn’t end. around this time last year, heeseung received almost 40 chocolates. along with 20 confessions... once heeseung and you arrived back at his place that year. the annoyance was evident on his face. it started to be too much for him. he realized denying every girl that confessed to him was more work than thanking them for a menial gift.

so here you both were, less than twenty four hours before valentine’s day. standing in front of heeseung’s bathroom mirror. matching shirts. matching rings. and quite possibly the stupidest plan conceived by him yet.

glancing up from your phone, you met heeseung’s gaze in the mirror. “hee there’s no way this is gonna work… i’m your best friend. almost everyone. no everyone on campus knows that.”

heeseung hummed out a response as he continued to style his hair nicely. a faint smirk on his lips as he enjoyed the moment. what you didn’t know was that heeseung developed the biggest crush on you after high school. heeseung was aware of the fact he would never be able to tell you his feelings. after all in your eyes he was your playboy best friend. nothing more than that.

but by some miracle he convinced you to be his girlfriend for valentine’s. even if the title was fake in it’s name. he still felt like it was a win win situation to him.

“come on, don’t say that yn. it’s believable! the player guy best friend, finally falls for his girl best friend. what’s there not to believe?” heeseung couldn’t help but let out a scoff while finishing up his hair.

“yeah okay. very believable…” your arms crossed at his horrible explanation. no one in their right mind would believe that the, lee heeseung had fallen for his best friend.

heeseung turned around from the mirror to face you. “alright come here.” his hand stretched out beckoning for you to come over.

you briefly rolled your eyes. still feeling the plan was idiotic. taking his hand, heeseung lightly tugged you forward in front of him. your frame now flushed against his wider body.

your body stiffened slightly. becoming hyper aware of how close heeseung was. he was your best friend. that’s how you viewed him your whole life. but that fact alone couldn’t change that, as frustrating it is to admit. heeseung is genuinely attractive.

“so the only way for this whole ordeal is to be as natural as possible. which is for me to wrap my arms around you.” once heeseung explained what needed to be done. his arm snaked around your waist. holding you firmly against himself.

your face softly heated up as the space between you both lessened. realizing now would be the time for the photo. you brought your phone up from your side. shaky fingers opening up the camera app. making sure to get a good angle before snapping a photo, heeseung stopped you.

“wait yn. you’re barely putting effort into this.” heeseung’s lips turned into a slight pout. you couldn’t help but eye him in the mirror. turning away the moment his eyes met with yours. his hold on your waist tightened at your reaction.

“well what else am i supposed to do? isn’t this fine?”

“not really. your arms look really awkward. here let me help. maybe if i do this it’ll look better.”

before you could protest, heeseung wrapped his arm across your chest. the pose with out a doubt looked possessive. as if he was silently declaring that you were his. no one else’s. your heart slightly fluttered at the feeling. yet you hated that it did. you knew heeseung wasn’t being serious in his actions. he just needed a cop out from all the girls that bothered him now.

heeseung continued on to explain taking the task seriously. “now like this you can put your hand on my forearm. i think my arm that’s across your chest would do.”

using your free hand, you placed it where heeseung instructed you too. taking another glance at the mirror. you both did look like a couple. the matching shirts to the matching rings, he managed to obtain. really sold the deal.

“oh yeah. we definitely look like a couple. told you we’d be pull it off.” a sly smirk was spread across his face. his smirk lingered. noticing the way you slightly jumped when his fingers grazed against your waist. he didn’t expect you to be so antsy in his grasp. not that he was complaining though.

heeseung then rested his chin on top of your head. putting on a cheeky smile, ready for the photo. “ok this is a good pose.”

“geez. i can’t believe this might actually work.” you hated to agree with him. but you and heeseung fit the picture of a couple. if this tricked everyone tomorrow you were bound to eat your own words. finally you snapped a couple photos. in between those few minutes heeseung suggested different poses as well.

there were ones where his back would face the mirror as he hugged your body. your frame being engulfed by his wide shoulders. another one he created with you, had him pose with his face in your neck. the illusion of it made it seem as if he was kissing your neck. once finished heeseung scrolled through all the photos. his face having satisfaction all over it.

“yeah. these are really good. we did a good job. if no girls bother me tomorrow, i have you to thank for the rest of my life yn.” heeseung lowered the phone, flashing you a bright smile.

“yeah yeah. i’m just surprised you put so much effort into this. even so far as to getting rings…”

“hey what can i say. i’m a stickler for perfection. also wear the ring tomorrow. just incase.”

“sure will do. well im going home now! hope your stupid post goes well!”

finally getting back home after heeseung’s did you really take a good look at the photos. you couldn’t help but continuously stare at the first photo you took. it was odd on how good you both fit with one another. even more odd how you somewhat missed his touch. missed the way his arm wrapped around your waist as if he was really your boyfriend.

realizing what you were thinking, you quickly dismissed it. heeseung is your best friend. nothing more nothing less. not to mention he’s a player. even if said player is genuinely nice to woman... but that didn’t matter. you had a set boundary and truly needed to stick to it.

soon valentine’s day came and went. during the day you checked heeseung’s post. the photos he chose were good, too good... not to mention the caption that was paired with the post. it read “spending the day with her”, accompanied with too many heart emojis to seem natural. were people really gonna buy this? finally finding heeseung on campus, you immediately noticed his empty arms.

“no way…” you stood infront of him utterly shocked. not believing what your eyes were seeing.

“told you they would believe it.” his arms opened out, showing off the movability of his empty arms. “this totally means you gotta act like my girlfriend for a bit.” heeseung teased as he rested his arm around your waist.

the post worked… for the first time in what felt like forever, heeseung was spending valentine’s alone. did this mean you’d have to keep up the act? are you really gonna have to play girlfriend for longer than one day? there was no way you agreed to something far more complicated right?

perm taglist ( open! send a ask to be added ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20

©myjjongie 2025

[goldfades]

dnook n his dog are sooo cute and i just think they look alike 😭

could u write somente cute and kinda funny about his dog beeing so in love with his gf and dbook getting all jealous cause they have a special bond without him

( love your writing and sorry english is not my first language)

i LOVEEE haven she's the cutest pup everrrrr<3 also i hope u enjoy this, lovey!

Devin swore he was this close to putting his own dog in timeout.

Haven was supposed to be his girl. His best friend. The one creature in this world who was supposed to love him the most, no questions asked.

But apparently, all it took was you waltzing into his life for all of that to go straight out the window.

It started small. At first, Devin thought it was cute—the way Haven would get excited when she saw you, how she’d wag her tail a little harder when you walked through the door, how she’d trot over to you first before acknowledging him.

But then? Then it got worse.

Suddenly, Haven wasn’t just excited to see you—she was obsessed with you. If Devin and Haven were sitting on the couch and you so much as breathed in their direction, Haven would immediately get up, abandoning him without hesitation to curl up at your feet like a lovesick puppy.

If Devin called her name, she might look at him—might—but the second you called for her, she was sprinting like her life depended on it.

And don’t even get him started on bedtime.

Because Devin had spent years with that dog loyally sleeping at the foot of his bed, never once complaining about her designated spot. But now? Now she had options. And instead of curling up where she belonged, Haven had somehow finessed her way into sleeping on your side of the bed—pressed against you, her head resting dramatically across your legs like she was claiming you as her own.

It was treason, honestly.

And tonight? Tonight was the final straw.

Devin walked into the living room, fresh out of the shower, expecting to find Haven in her usual spot on the couch. But nope. Instead, there she was—lying belly up in your lap, eyes half-lidded in pure bliss as you scratched behind her ears like she was at a damn spa day.

And the worst part?

She sighed.

A deep, satisfied, content sigh that Devin was pretty sure she had never once let out for him.

He deadpanned.

“Oh, hell no.”

You barely held it together before bursting into laughter.

Devin stood there in the doorway, towel slung over his shoulder, staring at his traitor of a dog like she had just committed the ultimate act of betrayal. Haven, meanwhile, had the audacity to blink up at him lazily before closing her eyes again, settling deeper into your lap like she hadn’t just heard him.

“Oh my God,” you wheezed, covering your mouth as you tried (and failed) to stifle your laughter. “Are you actually jealous of your own dog right now?”

Devin’s brows pulled together, his jaw tightening. “No.”

But the way he said it? Defensive. Way too quick. Absolutely a lie.

That only made you laugh harder.

“She literally lives with you,” you said between giggles. “You’re with her all the time.”

“Yeah, and for years, she’s been my number one fan,” Devin shot back, pointing at Haven like she wasn’t even in the room. “Now? I’m chopped liver.”

You snorted. “Oh, baby, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not even top three in her rankings.”

His mouth dropped open, like you had personally wounded him. “Not even top three?!”

You shrugged dramatically. “Nope. It’s me, the guy at the pet store who gives her treats, then you.”

Haven let out another content sigh at that exact moment, nuzzling further into your lap, like she was agreeing.

Devin glared. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You were fully cackling now, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “I swear, she loves you, Devin—she’s just got a special bond with me.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, looking so betrayed. ��I raised her. I feed her. I take her to the vet. And now she’s acting like I’m the outsider in my own damn house.”

You reached out, trying to grab his hand, but he yanked it away, still sulking.

“Oh, come on,” you giggled, tilting your head at him. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he grumbled, dropping onto the couch with a huff.

The second he sat down, Haven instantly lifted her head, staring at him for a moment before slowly… slowly… shifting in your lap until her front paws stretched onto him.

Like she felt bad.

Like she knew he was mad.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing again. “Ohhh, she’s trying to make it up to you.”

Devin narrowed his eyes at Haven, unimpressed. “Oh, now you remember I exist?”

She blinked at him. Then, in true drama queen fashion, she licked his arm once before resting her head back on your lap.

You lost it.

Devin groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I cannot believe this.”

“She apologized,” you teased, scratching Haven’s ears again. “You gonna forgive her?”

He sighed heavily, glancing down at his fake-apologetic dog, then up at you, his lips twitching like he was trying so hard to stay annoyed.

Finally, he muttered, “I want joint custody of you.”

You smirked. “Oh, babe. She owns me now.”

Devin groaned again, falling back against the couch, mumbling under his breath. But when you curled into his side—Haven still sprawled half across you—he let out another dramatic sigh, pulling you closer anyway.

And yeah, maybe he’d lost his number-one ranking in Haven’s heart.

But in your heart?

He’d always be first.

[wordsofwhimsy]

🅲🅾🅽🅲🆁🅴🆃🅴 🅵🅻🅾🆆🅴🆁🆂

A/N: I’ve been going BONKERS reading through all of the Mark Grayson x reader fanfics on here.  Y’all are so damn talented!!!  Got a girl having all the feels.  It really inspires me to write more myself :’).  The last thing I posted got a little bit of love & it really meant a lot to me!  I’m also going to try working on my formatting to make it more appealing.

~☪~

PAIRING: [Budding] Sinister!Mark Grayson x Reader

WARNINGS: Series-Typical Violence & Gore, suggestive abusive/possessive

INSPIRED: by the song “luther” by Kendrick Lamar & SZA

~☪~

♫♪ If this world was mine… ♫♪

Something was changing in Mark.  The sweet, funny, and thoughtful guy you’d known for years was still there, but you’d noticed within the last few months that there was also something else—something much darker bubbling just below the surface.  At first you told yourself his heavy emotions were normal and made sense.  What he went through with his father was nothing short of traumatic, and he never truly had a chance to process any of it.  Not in the typical sense, at least.  No therapy, no counselors, no support groups.  Just himself, his mom, and all of the poor souls who dared to take up the mantle of being a career criminal.  Of course there was always you, but what words of wisdom could you really offer?  You were just a regular girl, working an ordinary nine to five as a library assistant.  The life he led was so fantastical and impossible for you to ever truly understand.  You loved him dearly and would always support him in any way you could, but the reality was you did not relate to his current life at all.

As time went on though you noticed that what started as a shadow within him was growing, becoming like a black sludge that would seep out of his mouth when talking about Cecil, or his father—or anything really that he disagreed with.  If you were being honest with yourself, it scared you.  You of course knew he was not his father and would never even conceive of committing such atrocities, but somewhere in the recesses of your mind you held the image of the destruction that was caused by Omni-Man, and then the knowledge that Invincible was more than capable of doing the same.  Not wanting to add the stressors that consumed Mark’s life, however, you never voiced these feelings.  But they were there nonetheless, and becoming harder for you to ignore.

♫♪ I'd take your dreams and make 'em multiply ♫♪

“I don’t understand what you’re so upset with me about [Name],” Mark stated, the irritation evident in his tone. “You wanted to become the lead librarian, and now you are. That’s literally what you asked for.”  You stared up at him incredulously, arms stiff at your sides with your hands clenched into tight fists.

“You have got to be kidding me right now Mark.” You waited a few moments, for some reason believing his senses would come back to him.  Instead, you were met with him starring evenly back down at you. Your eyes widened as you shouted, “You threatened Mrs. Crump into retiring!”

“I gave her strong encouragement.”

“Be so for real right now…” You dropped your head and covered your face with your palm, needing to regroup your thoughts. “Maybe I’m mistaken.  Did Invincible not show up at my job this morning and tell my boss that if she was smart, she would make this her last day?” His dark, slim eyes glanced away from you now as he gave no answer.  Your lips pursed as you slowly nodded your head, at a loss for words.  Mark looked back at you, his expression suddenly so soft and tender.  It almost made your heart flutter.

“Your life is so short, [Name],” he said in almost a whisper. “You deserve for every dream you ever have to become reality.  In fact you deserve even more!” All the built up tension in your muscles suddenly melted away as you instinctively reached out to take his hand in a comforting gesture.

“Oh—” Your fingers trace up the solid and muscled contours of his arm, gently grazing over his shoulder and neck to finally cup his jaw. Your eyes meet with his and you couldn’t help but feel a soft smile tug at your lips. “Mark… My life may seem short in comparison to yours, but understand that for me, it’s the longest thing I’ll ever experience.” Your words seemed to do nothing to comfort him as a look of frustration pulled at his features. You only continued to gently smile. “Besides, the fight for our dreams is the most important part of the adventure.”

This seemed to register for him, at least on some level. “I love you,” he hushed while holding your face in his calloused hands.  He leaned down to give you a soft, lingering kiss that made you weak in the knees.  This time, as was the case with every time that you began to worry about his dark tendencies, he touched you and flooded your brain with oxytocin causing you to forget all about your concerns.  Just like he wanted.

♪♫ If this world was mine, I'd take your enemies in front of God Introduce 'em to that light, hit them strictly with that fire ♪♫

This is a dream, you told yourself.  Every cell in your body was shaking in horror.  This is dream, you repeated in your mind, tears welling in your eyes.  This has to be a dream.  Mark stood facing you, donning his superhero attire.  Although the blood that heavily stained his right hand up to his elbow did not lend itself to the idea of heroism. “[Name],” he spoke your name so calmly.  Nausea churned in your stomach as you took a step back from him. “I had to do this.  His life was meaningless – he didn’t deserve to be on this planet with you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at his face.  You didn’t dare see what was undoubtedly laid in a careless, bloodied pile at his feet. “You know that I’m right, [Name]. Don’t you understand? He was—”

“He was my father!” you cried, the tears now spilling freely from your swollen eyes. “How could you do this?!”

“How could I do what? Save you from his abuse? Spare you from another bruised eye or busted lip? Another horrible insult being spit at you from his vile mouth?” As he talked you could see the blackness gushing from his lips.  This was what you had feared all along but denied endlessly, until now.  And now it was far too late.  You took another step away from him and suddenly felt your back pressed into something solid and immovable.  Mark’s arms closed around you from behind, his face leaned down next to yours. “I am all you really need, [Name].  I can keep you safe.  No one else can do that for you.  Only me.” You sobbed without restraint, all of your body giving way under his embrace as he kept you on your feet effortlessly. “I know this is hard for you right now, but don’t worry, I promise you’ll understand someday.”

Having gone numb to your own senses, it took you several minutes to realize you were no longer on solid ground and instead floating above your father’s home.  It was quiet out, no sirens or people screaming.  Your neighborhood and the police were none the wiser.  And even if someone did know, what could they possibly do? “I love you, [Name].  I know you know that.  You might not feel the same right now, but I hope soon enough you will again.”  The tone in his voice left you feeling like you didn’t have a choice in the matter.  And suddenly, you could see the future clearly.  He would follow in his father’s footsteps, and this world would bend knee to his every whim.  You would be no exception.  In the name of self-preservation, you found yourself reaching up to hold onto his arms which still gripped tightly around your rib cage. 

“I love you too.”  The words surprised even you as they cracked out of your throat.  A low hum of satisfaction could be heard from Mark before he placed a tender kiss to the crook of your neck.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that.” He squeezed you even tighter, pushing the breath out of your lungs and putting a deep ache in your spine.  How could your sweet, thoughtful, caring boyfriend have changed so much? Where did the Mark you know go? Your stare fell back down to the roof of your father’s home and the sight immediately brought tears back to your eyes, blurring your vision. “Things in this world are going to be changing.” You bottom lip quivered at his words. “But don’t worry, I’ve done some things to your house just to make sure you can stay safe.  I can’t wait for you to see.” He placed another kiss to your throat, and you felt yourself slip out of your skin.  Nothing would ever be the same.

[emmaaxobabyy]

˖ ֹ੭୧ needy ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

nikki sixx x female reader ༝༚༝༚ little reminder: whenever i write, everything is consensual between the reader & the person ❤︎

word count: 1063

(requested) ᵎᵎ

obsession.

nikki has a very addictive personality with everything in life. but with you, you were a completely different story. your taste, your smell, the way you moaned his name, made his cock twitched with ease every single time.

reminiscing on the countless late nights, groaning as he started to palm himself through his jeans, getting flashbacks of every position nikki had you in. he couldn't stop himself, calling you over and over again until you picked up. hearing your voice on the other end caused nikki to let out a sigh of relief, as if he was holding his breath without even realizing it.

oh thank god... baby girl i missed you so much, would you mind paying daddy a visit?

fast forward

after a few sips of red wine, nikki's lingering touches, roaming from your hands to your thighs, he finally had you where he wanted, in his bed where you belonged. your submissive nature making the natural process go by much easier. nevertheless, nikki always took this time when it came to you. the sexual tension in the air was his favorite part, it was the foreplay before the actual foreplay.

as you laid on your back, your legs spread wide, wearing nothing but your lacey black panties, nikki crawled in your direction. his glare reeking of dominance, viewing you as his little prey, his little sex doll.

little girl... you know daddy loves you right? he loves you so fucking much. daddy couldn't stop thinking about you, and your sweet, sweet pussy. give it to me.

his tone remaining low, as nikki gripped your thighs, dragging you closer to his mouth. pulling your panties to the side, inhaling your scent, his eyes rolled back, absolutely in love with your dripping wet pussy.

MHMM! alll mine, isn't that right?

your brain was going hay-wire, not able to think straight as you felt his tongue immediately crash against core, using his fingers to spread your lips apart giving him more access to your pulsing clit. a few seconds go by, hearing nothing but intense wet sounds coming from nikki as he continued to make out with your pussy.

f-fuck n-nikki please-e

nikki? did you just call him nikki?

lifting his head up, looking directly at you as his eyes darkened, an idea popped into his head.

excuse me baby girl, what did you just call me?

your eyes widened, realizing your mistake. but before you could mutter a single sentence out, he stuck two fingers inside of you, roughly finger fucking you as he bought his mouth back onto your pussy. smirking to himself as you moaned, just like nikki expected.

as he kept the same fast tempo the entire time, your voice shaky and desperate from every sensation. you felt that familiar built up coming close to climax, grabbing nikki's long raven hair, needing to release.

little girl, cum for me, cum for daddy. you better FUCKING cum, DO NOT disappoint daddy.

talking into your pussy was the final straw, as you felt your legs tremble, screaming on top of your lungs. nikki let out a primal growl as your juices met with his lips, devouring you, making sure he caught all your sweetness.

god, my little slut's pussy is perfect, don't stop, don't fucking stop. i need every last drop of you.

as your orgasm came to an end, you noticed that nikki's speed didn't slow down, his tongue and fingers still going at the same pace as before.

d-daddy n-no more-e, i-i m-hmmm

a sinister laugh ringing through the room, your clit becoming more and more sensitive with each passing minute.

baby doll, i thought you were smarter than that, i'm not done with you yet. aweee are you about to cry? am i too rough with you, huh? my little plaything?

spanking your thigh as he relentlessly ate your pussy, letting out a satisfied but muffled sigh against your core. holding your legs apart, making sure nothing got in the way of him having his way with you.

nikki tilted his head, getting slightly confused when he no longer heard any sound coming from your direction. darting his eyes at you, a wicked grin appeared on his face when the realization hit him.

you passed out. poor little thing.

giving your clit one last kiss before nikki wiped his face clean with his hand. your limbless frame effortlessly laying on his bed. taking your body, using it to his advantage as he slowly placed you on your hands and knees, your face gently pressed up on the pillows.

nikki was already hard but since you were still passed out, he wanted to wake you up in a very special way, the idea making more blood rush to cock. lining himself up, nikki inched himself inside of you, adding a bit of pressure. feeling your pussy tightened around him made his eyes roll back.

gasp.

chuckling to himself, as he started to go deeper.

my little baby, fuck... finally you're up! daddy missed you.

coming back to reality, feeling nikki's thick cock fill you up, you let out a loud moan, your legs still shaking from earlier. your head laying on its side, as drool started to leak out of your mouth onto the pillow.

d-daddy you-u feel s-so so-o good-d!

i can't get over how perfect you are, such a young little thing. how does it feel fucking a dirty old man? f-fuck baby d-doll keep bouncing your ass on my cock, m-my GOD!

letting your body take full control as you listened to nikki, slamming your ass against him. if that wasn't enough, he gripped onto your hips, leaving handprints on your skin, digging his nails into your delicate frame. being so worked up from eating you out before, nikki knew he wasn't going to last long.

pulling your hair back, making sure he was able to look you straight in the eyes before he came.

ANGEL! FUCK! you are such a good girl for me, daddy's gonna cum, daddy's gonna give his sweet little girl his cum, take it all for me.

tightening more around him as you heard that, his words making you weak in the knees. feeling his orgasm, his cock twitching as he released everything inside of your perfect pussy.

mhmmm... i love you angel, i love you so fucking much. t-thank you.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!

[stvrnloghost]

‘scramble brain.’

Where adhd reader just needs to calm down.

Warnings-adhd, anxiety, stress, anger issues, fluff, pet names, use of Y/N, talking about queefing, mentions of sex, thats about it! :)

“I love you so much my scramble brain.”

————————————

all your life anytime you told some one you had adhd they immediately just assumed you were loud, obnoxious, and just too much. Sure you can be that at times but it’s not just that. You feel so much—too much. You don’t have just adhd, theres so much more behind that so called ‘scramble brain’ persona.

You have it rough, you’ve always struggled with so much but your to awkward to tell someone. So you always write away your problems.

Your boyfriend, oh your sweet understanding boyfriend understand so much. He knows you’re more than just that ‘annoying’ girl. Sure you stress him out at times but he knows you can’t help it. So when he saw you pull out your journal tonight he immediately knew to not bother you, tease you, or let anyone interrupt your vulnerable moment.

theres so much you have to say, it’s frustrating. Your pen was moving so fastly across the paper you could barely even understand your own writing.

Yeah it was that kind of night.

Matt’s gaze flicked up from his phone, concern flooding him as he watched your bottom lip tremble and your hands shake as you held the pen with a death grip. “Babe?” He whispered, but you didn’t look up at him.

“Y/N.” He said more firmly as he let his hand grip onto your wrist, halting your writing. You finally looked up at him with glossy eyes and a tense look on your features. “Matt stop bothering me!” You snap out—sounding like a literal child whining.

“Okay calm the hell down y/n.” He said back in the same tone. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you heard him snap. Not helping one bit especially with your mind set at the moment. “Hey hey hey m’ sorry shit baby fuck I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He moved the notebook off your lap and placed it on the coffee table.

“Shhh, I know baby.” He said quietly as he tugged you to his lap. You obliged settled as you buried your face into his shoulder, your body shaking against his frame. “I know I know, y’ just stressed hm?” He says softly.

His words slightly eased you as you nodded. “Someone called me annoying today.” You choked out. “And—and some people were giving me judgy looks because I couldn’t sit still and it made me upset, and mad, and I didn’t like it:” you manage to get out.

His hand moved to the back of your head scratching your scalp as he listened intently. “I know sweetheart, people just don’t understand hm?” He murmurs out letting his lips graze your ear. “Y’ got a lot going on in that pretty head, it must be hard baby.”

You nodded slowly your cheek smushed against his shoulder as I play with his hoodie strings. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I just couldn’t help it I’m sorry.” You whispered out, your breath fanning agaisnt his neck.

“Hey hey no apologies missy.” He says trying to sound stern—making a smile curl onto your lips. “Theres that pretty smile.” He says softly, his own lips curling into a grin as he moved his hand down your back.

“Do I look like a chipmunk?” You mumbled out, pressing your cheek more into his shoulder, your other hand coming up and smushing your other cheek. You let out a little giggle and pucker your lips.

“The cutest and silliest chipmunk.” He exclaimed, his hand coming to move yours before cupping your cheeks and smushing them together.

“Oooh look at those pretty lips!” He says softly as he pecks them, making you giggle as you tug his hands away from your face. “Okay okayyyyyy!” You say dramatically as you roll your eyes.

“Okay sassy pants.” He says in the sassiest, most girly tone ever—making your giggles become louder. His presence just made you forget all your problems. He grounded you.

————————————

for a little while the two of you just sat there in a comfortable silence. He was watching some random cat videos on his phone, you were just playing with his hoodie strings and zoning out.

You let out a little giggle at your own thought before looking at his face. “Mattttttttuhhhhh.” You exclaimed dramatically, a grin tugging on your lips.

His eyes flickered up fron his phone, an amused smile forming on his lips. “y/nnnnnuhhhh.” He teases as his hand moves to your hair running a hand through the strands.

“Okay so I have a question.” You start quickly cutting him off as he opens his mouth to speak. “Whenever we’re having sex—y/n why is it always sexual with you?” He cut you off tilting his head. His tone more amused than anything.

You quickly shush him and clamp a hand over his mouth. “So, when we’re having sex do I queef a lot?” You mumble out, Watching his eyes widen at your amusing yet blunt question.

He gently grasped your wrist and pulled it away from his mouth. “What type of question?—answer Matthew.” You quikcly cut off a little giggle falling from your lips.

“Honey.” He starts, but lets out a little sigh and nods. “Yes baby you queef.” He grins and moves his hands to your hips. “Not a lot just when in realllyyyy going at it.”

You roll your eyes and let your hands rest on his shoulders. “Okay but like is it funny?” You mumble out tilting your head.

“Sometimes, half the time I’m to focused on fucking you to care.” He paused and let out a loud laugh his fingers pinching the bridge of your nose.

“That one time you fucking ripped ass though, oh gosh I noticed that.” You swatted his chest and moved off his lap rolling your eyes.

“Whatever!!!” You say as you stand up flipping him off. “Yknow I was gonna say I was in the mood but I guess not.” You say with a dramatic sigh.

He immediately grinned and tilted his head watching you. “Yeah? Well I really want you to be in the mood.” He murmured out.

You sauntered out of the living room and looked back at him. “Well then come make me queef bitch!” You exclaimed with a giggle.

“Y/n I swear to god I’m gonna murder you one of these days!” He said with a chuckle as he grabbed your wrist catching up and tugging you into his room.

He pressed a few pecks to your lips before looking down at your face. “I love you so much my scramble brain.” He said softly. “Now get on that bed I’ll make ya queef.” You giggled and with that you jumped right into the center of his bed.

And you knew even more than already in this moment. This is where you wanted to be. You were welcomed, and wanted completely safe even with your weirdness, anger issues, or child like behavior. You were loved.

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A/N: not my best but i really love adhd!reader and Matt! If you want more about them just go into my inbox and I’ll tell you abt them and my other aus! Thank you for reading my little ghosties!!

more adhd!reader and Matt here.

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