#hey look it's my ugly mug!

[louloulemons-posts]

Heyy

Could you write Eddie x introvert reader😭

Like a little story and then some smut maybe😭

Not So Shy

Eddie Munson X Shy!Girlfriend

Word Count : 2.4k

Warnings : not proofread, SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex, kinky? daddy kink, readers called good girl and bunny, choking, eddies a soft dom, sub reader, it’s kinda fluffy lmao?

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Hey baby!” Eddie was leaning against his van as you walked over, almost shouting the endearment. “Hey,” you smiled, making your way to him.

His hands instantly sound your waist, leaning down to peck your lips. “How was English?” With a flushed face you replied, “It was good yeah, how was Chem?”

Eddie pulled a face. “Ed’s you said you’d go!” You scolded.

“I know I know, but I had a deal to do. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go Monday okay?”

“You better.” He squeezed your hips, smirking as he leaned down, “Like when you get all assertive with me baby.” Your face burned, pushing away from the grinning boy.

However he just pulled you back, so you stood chest to chest. “Eddie,” You whined, “People are looking.”

“Let em look baby.” With a groan you dropped your face into his chest making him chuckle.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. Let’s go okay?” He suggested. “Okay.” The boy opened the door for you, letting you climb into the van. “Love those jeans baby,” he said as you sat.

“Stop looking a my ass!”

“As your boyfriend it’s kinda my job too.”

“Shush!”

The boy cackled as he closed the door and walked to his own side. “So you coming back to mine?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Great!” He slid a hand onto your thing, giving it a squeeze and you were on your way.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You don’t really know how you and Eddie got close, you just kinda did. Sat in History class together, you just kinda went hand in hand.

You were quiet, Eddie was loud. You were getting straight As, Eddie was barely scraping a D-. Eddie was full of love and light … you … not so much.

“Here we are gorgeous,” Eddie smiled, pulling up to the trailer. The trailer, somewhere you became so fond of so quickly, even more so when Wayne was around.

Speaking of where was he? “Where’s Wayne?” You asked.

“Picked up another shift. So you’ll have to deal with my ugly mug.”

“Shush, you’re not ugly.”

“No?”

“No .. prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” you mumbled. “What was that?” You knew full well he heard you, but was teasing just cause. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” You said slightly louder this time.

“And you’re the most beautiful girl in the world baby.” Your face flushed. “Come on, let’s get you in, before you die of embarrassment.”

With a huff you hopped out of the van, but couldn’t hide your smile as Eddie held his hand out to you. As he always did, linking your fingers together, eventhough you were only going a short distance.

Once you were inside you slid off your shoes, hanging your jacket and bag on a hook, Eddie doing the same in a smooth rhythm.

“Want a drink? Wayne made lemonade.”

“Yes please.”

“Okay you go and get comfy baby,” he kissed your head walking to the kitchen.

With a sigh you dropped down onto to the sofa, letting your eyes fall closed. Listening to Eddies movements, the glasses gave out of the cupboard, sliding across the side.

The fridge door opened with a slight creak, and the sound of lemonade pouring filled your ears. Once the door of the fridge closed, heavy footsteps padded towards you.

“Long day Baby?” Eddie asked, the glasses were placed with a clink onto to coffee table. Your feet were lifted and then placed on the boys jean clad legs.

“Mhm, just had a lot of homework is all. Got to bed late.”

“You should take a nap.”

“No, wanna spend time with you.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows, opening your eyes to look at the boy.

“Well we can relax together, wanna watch a movie? Red left one here, said you’d probably like it.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”

“The Breakfast Club.”

“Oh Robs told me about that, apparently it’s real good,” you told him.

“Well we better trust them then.” He gently lift your feet so he could get up, placing the tape into the player.

Twisting your body so you could sit together, Eddie smiled, placing his self besides you and held you close. Arms falling around you. “Hello,” he smiled as looked down at you.

“Hi,” you said looking up at him.

“So fucking cute,” he laughed, kissing your head. Your face flushed. “One of these days you’ll stop blushing when I compliment you.”

“Think it’ll take a while.”

“Well we’ve been dating for almost 4 months now, and you still go as red as a beet baby.”

“I can’t help it,” you held your rosy cheeks in your hands.

Eddie squeezed you, “Didn’t mean it’s bad thing, it’s cute. I just wish you’d believe my words more. Just think you’re the best thing.”

“Since sliced bread?” you joked.

“Oh since the start of the universe.” His words were true and full of adoration for you.

“You’re a sweet talker Eddie Munson.”

“Only for you baby.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay in Eddies arms as the movie played you felt his hands fiddling with your jumper, sliding under it slightly. Coming to rest on your bare tummy.

The feeling made you burn, his hands on your bare skin, your legs rubbed together at the slight twitch between them.

“Just watch the movie,” Eddie whispered in a soft voice, his hands sliding up. Coming to a halt when his fingers met the bottom of your bra. “Is this okay?” He asked.

You hummed, nodding your head. “Words baby.” He almost pulled his hands away when you couldn’t get them out, choking out a broken, “Yes, Y-yeah.”

His hands resumed their mission. Pulling down the cups, you sighed as your nipples brushed against the knitted wool of your jumper.

Eddies rough hands cupped them, squeezing ever so slightly to make you hiss. His lips brushed against your neck, leaving soft kisses, from the base up to your ear.

His thumb and index finger began to pinch at your nipples, teasing them as he suckled onto that sweet spot below your ear. With a sigh your head fell back against his shoulder, legs squeezing together.

“Eds,” you whined.

“What baby?” he said in a mocking tone.

“Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling at your nipples giving them a rough squeeze. “Mhm feels real good.”

“Shall we take this off?” he said, motioning to your jumper and bra. “Yeah.” He shifted in front of you then, lifting your arms up, pulling the jumper and throwing it somewhere.

You didn’t know where. You honestly couldn’t care less. Your bra followed moments later. Eddies mouth soon latched onto your tits, kissing them and then taking a nipple into his mouth.

Suckling on it and biting down. “Fuck ah,” you said, hands pulling on his curls. “Fucking love these pretty tits.”

Eddie sat back on his knees taking you in, making you feel shy at your half bare form. Your hands came up to cover yourself, but Eddie pulled them away, linking your fingers.

Pushing you to lie down on the couch Eddie lay between your legs, meeting you in a soft kiss. “Never need to hide from me. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he spoke softly.

The next time he met your mouth, it was full of tongue and lust. Making you whine as he squeezed your boobs again. “Eddie please.”

“Please what baby?”

“Do more.”

“Yeah? Want me to suck on that pretty pussy?” You hummed nodding wildly, hips pushing up to reach his hardening crotch.

“I got you baby, Eddies got you.”

His hands went down to your jeans, undoing the buttons and sliding them down. Kissing your legs as he did so. Socks went with them. You lay there in your panties.

“These are cute baby,” he pulled at the baby blue material, letting them snap back against your hip. “Eds not fair!” You pouted, tugging at his shirt.

“Oh I guess not.” The boy lifted his shirt up and over his head, next his jeans went along with the socks on his own feet.

“This better?” he asked. You took the sight of him in. Lust filled eyes, wild hair, tattoos decorating his skin, and underwear getting tighter by the second. “Yeah.”

He kissed his way down your body, making sure to bite on each nipple as he went. Soon he was at your clothed core. Kissing your thighs, leaving love bites there, you squealed at the feeling.

Trying to close your legs, he held them open, finally dropping kissing onto the blue lace. You let out a soft sigh, hands going back to his hair. “Please don’t tease.”

He laughed, then slide the pants down your legs, making a show of licking where your core would rest. “God fucking delicious.”

“Baby please.”

With a grin he dropped his mouth to you, letting his tongue lick up you. The feeling was incredible, his tongue was like nothing else. Soon he latched onto your clit.

Sucking away, making you let out soft moans. His tongue worked against it too, flicking every once in a while, he knew it drove you mad.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me. Think I can already slide my fingers in.”

“Yes!” You almost screamed. “Yes please.”

“Well how can I say no to you?”

The feeling of two of his thick fingers stretching you was incredible. Your mouth dropped open as he curled them inside you, letting them pump in and out.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers and in my mouth and then I’ll give you what you really want okay?” With the way he moved his fingers you couldn’t answer, too lost in pleasure.

So he stopped. “I said okay?”

“Okay, yes.”

“Good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around his fingers at that. “Oh?” he smirked.

“You wanna be my good girl?” he asked, once again your pussy throbbed.

Leaning down to your ear he whispered, “Are you gonna be daddy’s good girl and cum around his fingers?” You could have came right then and there.

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes daddy.”

He smirked again, pecking your mouth, you could taste yourself on his lips. He was back down on your clit, fingers curling inside you, until they hit you where they needed to.

Letting out a loud moan, you could feel Eddies grin. “Come on baby, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”

“Fuck!” You almost shouted. Hands gripping his hair as he kept playing with your clit and curling those thick digits, so deep you could feel his rings against your hole.

“Fuck daddy- I- I …”

“I know baby I can feel you, cum for daddy. Cum for me.” You did just that. With a loud moan, you hips bucked, shaking as you came.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Eddie said, as he moved his mouth away, fingers still moving as he watched your orgasm. “Fuck baby you’re so sexy.

Your chest rose and fell heavily, body full of bliss, as you sighed. Grabbing for his face, you pulled him to kissed you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue made you both moan. “I’ll give you what you want baby.” The boy tugged his boxers down, going to position himself to go inside.

“No,” you stopped him, he pulled back wide eyed. “Do you … do you wanna stop? Shit sorry baby, we can stop right now.”

“No! I don’t wanna stop, I just wanna try something different.”

“Okay?” Softly pushing Eddie up, you pulled his guitar pick necklace off of him, pulling it over your own head. Making the boy sit up, you climbed onto his lap.

“Oh?” he smirked. “And what are you doing now baby?”

“Wanna … wanna bounce on your cock,” you said shyly, but forced yourself to meet his eyes.

“You go ahead bunny, bounce on daddy’s cock,” he said, smacking your ass lightly.

Slowly you positioned his cock at your entrance, letting yourself slide down.

You hissed at the feeling of the stretch it was so good. Eddie was packing six, almost seven inches and he was thick. Nice and thick, making your walls tight around him.

“God that pussys good. Come on baby, bounce.”

So you did. Holding onto his shoulders you let your hips rise and fall onto his. Letting out heavy breaths of pleasure. “Fuck bunny,” Eddies head fell back.

“God daddy your dicks so good.”

“Yeah? Best dick you’ll ever get.”

“Only dick I want.” He looked at you then, took one of his big hands and squeezed it around your neck.

You paused in your bounce, letting out a choked moan. “Only dick you’re ever gonna have, cause your mine. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to speak under his tight grip.

He simply said, “Bounce.” So you did. Slamming your hips, you moved erratically like you’d die without it - which you probably would.

He watched as his necklace bounced between your tits, it was a mouth watering sight.

Eddies ring covered hand squeezed every now and again, his other spanking you harder and harder as he got closer.

Your legs burned and you began to slow. “Is my bunny tired, you need daddy to do the work now?” He teased. With a nod of your head, Eddie let go of your throat.

Hands coming to rest on your waist, his feet lifted from the floor and onto the edge of the couch. Making him even deeper, you could feel him in your throat.

“I got you baby.” He thrusted deep into you making you scream in pleasure, slamming again and again. Over and over. “Fuck yes, such a good pussy, milk my fucking cock. Milk daddy’s dick.”

“Yes yes yes!” You screamed as you came for the second time. Squeezing him, Eddie let out his own grunt, pounding you. His cock getting deeper and deeper. “Fuck yes yes yes!” he chanted as you felt his cum squirt into you.

“Uh fuck yes!” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulder and your body shook, head falling to his neck. “Yes take it baby!” With a final thrust his hips fell down.

Heaving breathing was all that was heard.

“God damn, so how to make you not shy is to fuck you dumb?” Eddie laughed. Face sweaty. “Clearly so.” He swatted your ass again.

“Come on baby we better get cleaned up.”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Of course. We’ll call your parents after we shower okay?”

With a nod, Eddie took his cue, pulling out of you and stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.

One hand under your bare ass and one around your back Eddie spoke, “You know they say good things come in threes, reckon I could get another one out of you?”

You smirked, pecking his mouth. “Only one way to find out … daddy.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sooooo … got a bit carried away 👀

Hope you enjoyed 😚

[darknight3904]

𝘐𝘴 𝘐𝘵 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘠𝘦𝘵?

𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘺.

𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 & 𝘞𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 (2024).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦.

𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘚𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.4 𝘬

𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 / 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Logan dislikes December. He always has. From the over priced gifts to the over played music, who could forget the biting cold. He hated it all. One of the things he hated most had to be some of the desserts people tried to pass off as edible.

"Get that out of my face." He growls as you try to feed him a forkful of something Al made

"One taste, Logan." You groan

"Don't like fruitcake. Makes me sick." He grumbles, "You eat it."

"But what if she screwed it up. Like those cookies she made that she used salt instead of sugar in?" You pout

"So I'm your guinea pig?" He asks with a sigh

"No! You're my loving boyfriend who will try Al's cooking for me."

"Nice try, bub." Logan takes the fork from your hands and set it back down on the plate, "I'm not dying of food poisoning."

You scoff, like food poisoning would be the thing to take him out.

"Hey, do we have any more lights? I think this strand is broken." Laura asks as she digs through boxes of decorations

"Uhh...I think we had a few more strands somewhere." You say, leaving Logan's side to help the girl with her decoration.

For whatever reason, you and Laura had insisted on not only buying an enormous tree but also that the entire apartment needed to look like an elf threw up in it. Odd little decorations had accumulated in every spare surface of the house. Even Logan's favorite coffee mug had been replaced by a Santa-shaped one that Wade had found at some store. He was pretty sure he was living in a nightmare.

"Do you think he's still scowling over the fruitcake?" You ask

"Probably. I bet his face is doing that dumb thing where it-"

"You two know I can hear you, right?" Logan asked, entering the living room and plopping down on the couch

"If you're not going to eat, can't you help?" You ask

"Help with what?" He sighs

You toss a big ball of tangled-up lights for the tree into his lap. Yes, this really was a nightmare he was stuck in.

Another issue Logan had was gift-giving. Not because he didn't think people deserved gifts, but he never knew what to buy. He'd been alive for nearly 200 Christmases and he still struggled with gift-giving. How's that for bad luck?

He already had something for nearly everyone in his life. Al was getting a container of that hair stuff she liked, Wade and Vanessa were getting matching Hello Kitty sweatshirts, hell he even found a toy for Mary sitting in a discount bin at the grocery store. Now, the two biggest struggles in his life, You and Laura.

Laura had asked for new games for her Switch but Logan had a suspicion you bought them already. So, here he was standing in a Macy's in the Young Women's section, hoping something would catch his eye for the teen in his life. Most of the clothes were either ugly or not her style.

Holy shit, there was no way that qualified as a top. Logan wouldn't let Laura two steps out the door in something like that. That had to be an undershirt or something...right?

An ugly sweater catches his eye. Perhaps he could get her a gag gift. There was a sweater with an overweight cow drinking beer. That seemed decent.

"Excuse me, son. I need to get by."

Logan glances down to see a little old lady pushing a shopping cart. He steps to the side and easily lets her slide past.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He blurts out to her

"Of course!" She smiled

"I got this teen girl at home. I need gift ideas." He sighs, "She's not the girliest and I can't figure it out."

The woman stands there for a second and thinks it over. A small snap of her wrinkled fingers cut through the air.

"How about shoes? Girly girl or not, every young girl likes a new pair of shoes every once in a while."

Logan thought about it, what shoes did Laura even wear? Usually, she was in that black pair of boots. Surely this huge store had something like that.

"Sounds perfect." He nods, "Do you have any ideas for my girl?"

"Oh well, what does she like?" The woman asks

What do you like? He swears he knows yet his brain is empty right now. You like him, that's for sure, "She likes me. I think"

"You're a bit empty-headed, aren't you?" The woman chuckles

Logan slowly nodded in agreement, normally an insult like that would have him simmering but he couldn't fight this old woman. She looked like she was 90.

"Well, when I was young, I always liked receiving a nice pair of pajamas. Or, a candle that smells like cookies. Honestly, I still like getting those things. One of my favorite things though to get was a day of peace and quiet. I used to tell my husband Howard to clean the house and take the kids out in the snow so I could take a long bath and read a book."

Logan thanks the woman, who he learns her name is Darlene, and goes off to find a pair of boots for Laura. He guesses on the size and shoves the gift receipt in the box just in case. He feels a bit unsuccessful as he walks back to the apartment he shares with Laura and you. He had one day left. Christmas Eve was tomorrow and you had wanted to bake cookies and watch movies all day.

He stashed the gifts under the bed, making a mental note to wrap them tonight after you passed out in bed. He tossed the idea around his brain of just giving himself as a gift to you, he'd like that if you did that for him. Honestly, it was the perfect gift for him. Of course, it seemed lamer coming from him now since he had done that for your birthday. Sure, the sex had been great but he wanted to give you something better.

Darlene had suggested pajamas but all you ever wore were his t-shirts to bed, that or nothing. You already had a huge collection of candles, and Laura really wasn't that chaotic so he didn't see any need to keep her away from you.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

The loud slam of the front door has him groaning. You were back from work, and he was still empty-handed in the gift department.

"How was work?" Laura asks

"Good. I gave Matt his gift early since he is driving to his parent's house for the next few days. Oh! I also saw the cutest kitten in that Petshop's window. An itty bitty orange one, looked like he was a few weeks old." You sigh dreamily

Logan officially had an idea. Perhaps it was a bad one, cats never did like him. Oh, fuck it, it beats not having a gift.

The next day, he sets out early. Laura is still snoring in her bed and you've gone off to help Vanessa with something. It's the perfect time to sneak a cat into the apartment.

The pet store is just opening as he arrives. The single employee looks like he'd rather be anywhere else as he welcomes Logan to the store with a monotone voice. So much for the Christmas spirit.

"Hey, there was an orange kitten here. Where is it?" Logan asked looking around an empty cage that was labeled Cats

"What?" The guy asked, not listening

"The orange kitten." Logan huffs, "I want to buy him."

"Oh, he was sold last night. Some lady came in, said her kids wanted a cat for Christmas." The guy says

"What?" Logan asks

"He's gone, man." The guy snorts

"Well, when do you get more?" Logan asks he can feel his blood pressure rising but he took a deep breath.

"More what?" The guy asks dumbly

"Cats! When do you get more fucking cats?!" Logan angrily slams his hand on the counter, "I need one for my girl. Any color I don't give a shit!"

"Oh, not for a while. Probably after the new year. The holiday season, those kittens go fast." The guy shrugs, "The shelters don't really give us too many at a time anyway."

Logan wipes a hand over his face with a groan, "You're really unfuckinghelpful."

Back outside, Logan's legs carry him to the bar he always went to when he was stressed. Two glasses of whiskey deep he's still giftless. It was starting to look like he was going to be the gift. Maybe he could borrow that giant bow Wade had, wrap it around his waist, and surprise you. He was so fucking lame.

Logan stumbles back out onto the sidewalk. Thoroughly drunk, he thinks about hiding in Wade and Al's apartment until this Christmas is over. Seriously, is it New Year's yet? He was losing his damn mind over this entire month.

Down a back alleyway, he pukes into a dumpster. He might've overdone it this time. How long was he even at the bar? You were so going to chew into him about this. A loud crash behind him had him jumping. He spins around, ready for some fight. Instead, little pawprints in the snow catch his eye. They lead to the smallest drain pipe Logan's ever seen. He kneels down, feeling the snow soak into his pants as he peers into the pipe. A little black and white kitten with yellow eyes stares back at him.

Maybe he wasn't entirely fucked this Christmas after all.

"Hey, bub." He greets the kitten, "Wanna c'mon out?"

He sticks a finger into the drain pipe and recoils when the kitten slices it open with a claw.

"Motherfucker!" He curses at the sudden, unexpected pain. The cat hisses from inside the pipe and Logan groans.

He sticks his face closer to the pipe and the kitten backs up a few small steps.

"Listen here, you little shit stain. You're going to save my ass tomorrow morning, so get out here. Or so help me I'll- "

The animal mockingly meows in his face.

A can of tuna from the corner store, and multiple scratches later, Logan is victorious. The black and white kitten has been secured. Logan has it tightly bundled up in his jacket, in an effort to not only keep it warm but also keep it from scratching his eyes out.

When he reaches the apartment, he pushes the door open and calls your name. Lucky for him, you're still out with Vanessa. He enters the bathroom and shuts it behind him.

"Bath time you little monster. I can't have you stinking tomorrow up."

The kitten, despite it's size is elusively strong. It wiggles out of Logan's grasp multiple times and somehow manages to have his entire shirt soaked from the water that he's filled the sink with.

"It's warm water. Just gotta rinse the soap off." He reasons with the animal as it scratches at the door.

"Is someone in here?" Laura's voice calls

"Yeah, It's me. Bathroom!" He yells back

The bathroom door swings open just as he snatches the kitten back up and Laura stares at him in bewilderment.

"What are you doing? Is that a cat?"

"No, he's the devil. Help me rinse it." Logan huffs

To his dismay, Laura is able to get the cat to stay relatively still under the running water as she rinses the soap off.

"Where did you find a kitten? That local pet store is sold out." She says

"You know that bar a few blocks away?" He asks

"The one you go to when you stress drink?" Laura asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion

Logan shoots her a look but nods, " I found him in a drain pipe nearby."

Laura coos down at the little animal as she wraps a big towel around it.

"What's its name?" She asks as she dries it off

"I dunno. Frank?" He shrugs sitting down on the edge of the tub

"Not everything can be named Frank," Laura judges him

"Alright, fine." He huffs, and a wreath that you hung on the bathroom door catches his eye. Jingle bells that gleam in the light are decorated with holly and berries adorn the wreath.

"Jingle. Or maybe Bell." He says staring at the wet kitten who seems hypnotized by Laura.

"Sounds good to me." She smiles at the kitten who meows back, "Hello, Jingle."

Logan sighs in relief and stands up, "Hide Jingle in your room."

"Where are you going?" Laura asks as he exits the bathroom

"Jingle needs a place to shit. We need cat stuff."

The next day, Logan is woken up by you gently kissing his neck.

"Morning." He mumbles

"Good morning." You smile, "It's Christmas."

He nods with a small grin.

"C'mon time to get up." You huff and stand up to pull at his arm

"What are you five?" He groans as you fail to move him

"Yes. Now get up."

Presents opened and a million pictures taken, Logan feels even more tired than when he went to bed last night.

To his glee, Laura loves the boots, and he's even managed to get the right size. Darlene as it turns out is full of good ideas.

"Last one." He says to you, "Put your hands out and close your eyes."

You give him a look like he's about to prank you.

"Wade put a cicada in your hands one time and now you distrust everyone?" He asks

"Yes. That was the scariest moment of my life." You affirm

"Just shut your eyes." Logan huffs

He has somehow gotten Jingle to stay in a little basket he found in the closet and he gingerly places it into your hands. The kitten shifts and nearly tips the basket over as you open your eyes.

"Logan!" You gasp, looking between him and the black-and-white fuzz ball.

"Like it? That orange one was gone when I got to the store. But I-"

You're jumping off the couch and tossing your arms around his broad shoulders. Jingle still sitting in his basket.

"I love him." You smile, leaning in for a kiss

"Good. You have no idea what I went through to get him for you." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, aware that Laura is watching and just a sentence away from teasing him.

"What's his name?" You ask as he lets you go, "Or are you a girl?"

Logan hadn't bothered to check as he shrugs and you pick the kitten up, lifting it's little tail up.

"A boy...I think" You say

"We were going with Jingle." He says looking at Laura who nods, "But you can change it."

"I think that's perfect." You smile, petting the animal's head.

Luckily this cat likes you a lot more than it liked him yesterday. Logan's eyes narrow at the way the cat stares at him, what was this animal's deal?

"So how'd you get him?" You ask curiously

"Would you believe me if I said I nicely talked to him and then let him follow me home?"

"No, not in a thousand years."

Logan chuckles as you smile back at him. Alright, maybe the holidays aren't so bad. He still thinks New Years could come quicker though.

Next Extra

I was feeling like I needed Christmas when I wrote this. Fun fact, originally I was going to have Logan tell the reader he loved them with a kitten at Christmas. Scrapped that for the scene in the yard at the school. :)

Also, I've gotten a couple of anons sliding into my inbox asking if I'm doing kinktober or anything like that. I am not unfortunately as I have a busy college schedule that is somehow getting even busier... that being said I do still plan to write just not on a daily basis.

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[shotmrmiller]

Tormented by a Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean

TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k

Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!

Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.

--

You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.

Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.

"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"

Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.

"You must be the roommate."

You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.

"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.

"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"

Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.

He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.

"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.

You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.

You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"

He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"

Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.

"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."

His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."

Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.

"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.

You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."

As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.

He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.

--

One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.

Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.

"Well, that was pathetic."

You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.

"What now, Ghost?"

He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."

Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."

As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.

Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.

--

A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.

Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.

He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.

"Can I help you?"

He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.

"No. I'm not doing this with you."

You turn to walk away when he speaks again.

"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."

Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.

"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."

Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.

Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.

--

You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.

"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."

Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.

"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.

"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.

Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.

"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."

You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.

--

And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.

After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.

It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.

"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.

"Get the fuck out."

Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.

"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.

You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.

"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.

"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.

"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.

Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."

He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.” 

And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.

A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.

[notjustjavierpena]

Public

Main Masterpost | Series Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Written for @janaispunk ‘s 1500 kisses challenge where I had to incorporate a cheek kiss and a French kiss. This was so fun to do and made me able to do a very requested scenario! I’m pleased Jana allowed me to use hubby (even if he isn't hubby yet here)🥰 and it turned a lot more smutty than intended (not that i’m sorry)

Summary: You play the perfect part at Javier’s office party.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, established relationship, they’re so in love, domestic, banter, lots of kisses, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, clit stim, fingering

Word Count: 3.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56618974

Public

Work parties in your office are always a dreadful thing; ugly and over-the-top decorations on the walls, tedious conversation with people higher up than you, and terrible music that seems to be played by the worst DJ in history. That’s why you giggle, a hand covering your mouth, the first time Javier mentions that he has to go to one of these schmoozing events at the police station. Police station and party are words that do not belong together. 

Javier raises a brow as you continue giggling about it, “What’s so funny about that? You don’t want to go?”

“God, no!” You shake slightly from the laughter, reaching down to cup your mug of coffee with both hands again so it doesn’t spill. Javier looks slightly hurt by your reluctance, so you force yourself to stop snickering and tilt your head with a genuine smile, “Hey, of course, I want to go with you. For moral support at the very least. It’s just… I know exactly what you’re in for and that’s very funny.”

“Don’t remind me. I’ve endured enough so far,” Javier groans. He reaches up to run a hand over his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose like he has a headache already. 

“You haven’t endured one with me though. I’m great,” you grin cheekily over the top of your mug, taking a sip when you earn a little smile. It’s the first party he’s going to after you started dating and it seems like a milestone in your relationship; there’s something about showing you off to the people he spends time with every day and thus involving you in his work life. It’s getting more and more serious each day. 

“You’re right about that,” he replies and you know that he is thinking the same thing. He crosses the room where you are standing against the kitchen counter in his apartment, looking so much like someone he wants to marry one day. Gently, he takes the mug from your hands and places it on the counter, only to lean in and not quite kiss you yet. He talks with his lips hovering just above yours, “If you’re so good at them… Any survival tips?”

You scrunch up your nose to look like someone having a think, constantly on the brink of a snicker when he traps you between his arms by placing his palms on the table behind you. You hum and then light up, “Oh, I’ve got plenty but the most important one is to plan an exit strategy - seriously, Javi, weren’t you in Colombia? You should know this - anyway, we need to secure a safe escape route and come up with a plausible reason to leave early. Involve me, if you like.”

Javier’s eyes soften as he looks at you. He can barely believe how fantastic you are, “¡Dios mío (My God)! And here I thought you were going to say something like ‘grin and bear it’ but you’re a woman with an evil plan.”

“Right? You think you know someone…” you lean in for a kiss that he teasingly avoids. His breath ghosts across your face and you pout from how much you want to put your lips to his and how much he doesn’t let you, “Javi.”

“I know, baby,” he tuts and bumps your noses together, “But we need an excuse for the party. Any ideas from the mastermind herself?” 

You place your forearms on his shoulders and decide to tease him right back, “Oh, I don’t know. We could just sneak out the back when no one’s looking. You could make an arrest against the back of the building.”

Javier makes a noise in the back of his throat. He tries to hold himself back, only just succeeding, “We could do that, yeah, definitely, but I think I’ll stick around a bit longer if you’re there to make it bearable.” 

“Okay okay,” you stop your teasing, “How about we stay for an hour tops, mingle to make you seem like the best colleague in the world, I’ll charm your boss’ pants off…”

“And then I’ll say we have an urgent… situation that we need to attend to,” he suggests. 

“And what would that situation be?” You smirk. 

Javier’s voice drops to a suggestive tone, “Hmm, I dunno. A personal situation that requires my full attention and… immediate care.”

You link your fingers on the back of his neck, teasing his hair there with your fingertips, “Funny. I think one of those situations might just be happening right now too.”

With that, he cannot go on any longer. He pulls you in and behind you, your coffee grows cold. 

—

The police station looks ridiculous while Javier looks nervous. It’s a contrast you want to gawk at because as far as you know, nothing seems to rattle the previous DEA agent turned sheriff of Laredo. However, social interaction in the workplace appears to be his kryptonite and with his donut-eating and domesticated lifestyle colleagues, he seems very much out of his element compared to who he tells stories about from Colombia.

“You know, you have to point out the guy I have to schmooze with. We need a signal,” you whisper close to his ear as you enter the bullpen and a few heads turn. Your hand is in his and when you squeeze it, he seems to relax a little more in his step. Your eyes scan the room for faces that might match the names you’ve heard in passing conversations. Most of them stare back with a subtle look of respect and admiration, eyeing you at first and then nodding at each other in approval. You should feel on the spot but you can barely concentrate as Javier lets go of your hand to rest his palm against the small of your back now that his confidence is slowly coming back.

“No need, he’s coming towards us right now,” he says quietly and smiles in his boss’ direction. 

“Tell me his name,” you say with a little smile of your own, “Quickly.”

“Uhh, that’s Commissioner Martin Lopez,” he manages before he receives a slap on the back from the man approaching you. 

“Peña! Glad to see you joining the festivities. Always good for moral support,” Lopez greets and gestures to the room of deputies. He is a large, square-shouldered man with a booming voice and a mustache even more impressive than your boyfriend’s. He looks like someone who laughs from his belly and you’re surprised that Javier is still standing upright after his large hand has clapped his shoulder. 

Javier is just about to introduce you but then you hold your hand out and interrupt, “Commissioner Lopez. You’re a frequent name in our conversations; Javier admires you a whole lot.”

“You should hear how much he talks about you around here, ma’am. I’ve been hearing about you all night because everyone’s itching to meet you,” Lopez replies with a huge smile. He shakes your hand which disappears inside of his huge one. 

You look briefly at Javier with a raised brow. On your back, he rubs up and down as a hidden ‘thank you’ while sporting an embarrassed smile. 

“Said too much?” Lopez questions teasingly. 

“Not at all but really? Ma’am? You’re making me sound so old, Martin,” you charm and give him a playful roll of your eyes. 

His eyes light up as you match his energy and he lets out a hearty laugh, “Apologies, miss. ‘Fraid it’s a bit of a habit. Should we expect to hear Mrs. soon?”

“Sir,” Javier tries to interrupt, horrified by the bluntness. 

“My God,” you theatrically clutch at your chest and turn to your boyfriend again, “Sheriff Peña, how much do you babble on about me here?”

Lopez holds up both his hands, seeming to love your display, “Now now, we need to let him keep some sort of authority here. Can’t be too hard on him in front of the others, so you best be off mingling. I still have a few rounds to make to make sure everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

“It’s good to see you, sir,” Javier says and earns a squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Glad to see you finally brought her,” Lopez looks in your direction and you share a smile. He turns to leave afterward, heading in the direction of a larger crowd and as he greets them, you hear his voice echo through the room. 

You turn to Javier, linking your arms around his neck and smiling at him with tenderness in your eyes, “You have nothing to worry about here. They all love you.”

“Suppose it’s nicer than some of the shit I got in Colombia,” he murmurs, staring over your shoulder as the crowd discreetly watches you embrace. He rests his hands on your hips, smoothing them around your waist until they entwine on the small of your back. You want a kiss and he pecks your lips when you make an impatient sound. 

“Much nicer,” you eventually say, twisting around to lean against his chest. Your gaze goes over the crowded room, a few smiles meeting yours, “They look at you like you’re the sun or something.”

“And you are doing fucking great, by the way,” he squeezes you in his arms, “Making friends faster than I ever did.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, “What can I say? I’m a natural, Sheriff Peña.”

“And modest too,” he shakes his head with a fond expression. Then he leans in to kiss your cheek from behind with a tenderness that tells you how much he appreciates you being here with him, going public in front of his colleagues for the first time. It’s not a quick peck but rather a lingering, heartfelt kiss that makes your heart sing for more of his affection. You feel the warmth of his lips against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

The room fades for the moment it goes on and when you come to your senses again, when your heartbeat has slowed down enough to notice your surroundings again, you realize the intimacy of the moment and feel the heat in your cheeks. However, you don’t let yourself feel anything negative towards it when you also come to the point that Javier Peña is not embarrassed to be affectionate with you in front of others. 

“That was nice,” you whisper as you still look up at him, feeling your cheeks hurt slightly from how much you are smiling.

He says nothing but instead just adds a quick peck to your hair. There’s no way he’ll describe this party as anything close to unbearable now. 

The night goes on after Javier reluctantly releases you from his arms. You circle the room together, all smiles and laughter, but sometimes you even separate and it doesn’t feel as frightening as you thought it would. Joke aside, maybe you are a natural. 

You end up in a group of female deputies. Julia, a woman with an impressive winged eyeliner, asks you how on Earth you caught yourself such a man and managed to hold him down. You reply with an embarrassed laugh, fidget with your dress strings on the front, and look in your boyfriend’s direction as you receive yet another compliment on him. Much to your delight, you catch a glimpse of Javier seeming to relax and enjoy himself. It makes you return to the conversation with newfound joy. 

“Honestly, he’s the one who caught me,” you say with a grin, earning a round of knowing giggles from the group, “I mean… He’s pretty hard to resist.”

“Well, the two of you make a great couple,” Julia says while the rest nods and hums. You reach up to cup your burning face, the ache in your face really hitting you.

“Not giving you a hard time, are they?” Javier interrupts and slides an arm around your waist. He catches your eye and gives you a quick, reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Just the opposite, Peña,” Julie jokes with a wink. “We’re giving her the lowdown on you.”

Javier groans playfully, “Shit, I’m doomed.”

“Better find out now than later, so I know what I’m in for,” you laugh genuinely, leaning into his side and feeling his arm tighten around you. 

“How are you feeling? Tired?” Javier checks in. 

“A little,” you falsely admit. This seems to be Javier setting the exit strategy in motion, so you go with it. 

“Do you wanna head home?” He continues, rubbing your side affectionately, “We could go back to my place.”

You hear the women make an “ooh”-sound. You nod while chewing on your bottom lip, “Yes, please.”

It doesn’t take long to say your farewells and even less time to exit the building and walk towards your car further down the street. It’s nice and cool outside, stars above you blinking occasionally. You like feeling him so close without him touching you as you walk, noticing quickly that he keeps gazing at you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look back over your shoulder as you approach the car. 

Javier is just about to reach for the keys in his pocket when he pauses. He waits a moment before striking, “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t believe how sexy you were playing the good little wife.”

You whirl around with your breath caught in your throat, your heartbeat quickening in your chest at those words. His eyes burn on your skin, an intensity in them that you can’t ever resist. You decide to say something back, “Yeah? You like me as your wife, huh? Cooking in the kitchen and cleaning the floor on my knees?”

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Javier says, his voice having dropped an octave. He steps forward and maneuvers you before you can protest until he has you firmly against the side of the car. The cool metal is nice against your electrified skin, creaking slightly as he pushes you further into the vehicle when his lips crash against yours. 

You instinctively reach up to cup his face, mouth falling open in a moan as he settles a knee between your legs. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, and as you respond by allowing him to practically eat from your mouth you find that he is tasting like himself so thoroughly that you can’t get close enough. 

Your hands slide up into his hair, tugging slightly as you continue kissing him so messily. He makes a noise, pushing his pelvis into yours to make you whine for him. 

“Not here,” you say without pulling back, knowing there’s no way you are stopping this. Between another string of lingering kisses, you try to protest some more, “We’re on a public road.”

“I know,” he seems to be under the same spell, velvety tongue against yours, “Spread your legs.”

“Javi,” you scold mid-kiss.

“I’m gonna put my hand underneath that dress and make you come because you deserve it,” he tells you with the kind of tone that lets you know he has already made up his mind, “And then I’ll take you home, and show you how much I appreciate you.”

Javier’s hand lays flat against your thigh, going upwards until it teases the hem of your dress. Despite the protest you have just voiced, you find yourself spreading your legs the second he slips his fingers underneath it. You don’t make it too obvious for others if they were to walk by, only just giving him the access he demands while your heartbeat takes over your whole body and your panties start to soak, “Fuck, okay. Okay.”

“Good girl,” he whispers against your lips and catches your mouth in another fervent kiss. You lay your arms on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he makes your knees weak. He places his hand flat against your stomach and then slides it down into your panties, never once ending the kisses he is giving you. 

The second his fingers press against your slit, you breathe in sharply through your nose and moan his name softly with the result of breaking the kiss. He chuckles a little, says you’re unbelievable under his breath and goes to work on you. He doesn’t slip his fingers inside of you just yet, just strokes your cunt the way he knows you like. 

You mewl. Your eyes flutter closed, eyebrows scrunching up as you concentrate on the pleasure he is giving to you. He seems conflicted by wanting to stare at you while he touches you but then decides against it and leans in to let his lips find yours again, capturing them in another kiss that makes you dizzy even in the fresh night air. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, two fingers finding your pulsing clit to go back and forth over it until something starts building below your belly button. You gush a little when he collects more wetness, dripping obscenely into his palm. 

“Estás tan mojada para mí (you’re so wet for me),” he praises in a whisper during the few seconds he pulls out of the kiss to get a proper mouthful of air. You grab the back of his neck and pull him back to your mouth, panting softly into him whilst nodding. 

“I know… Please,” you say breathlessly as his fingers work their magic. 

“What do you need, mi amor (my love)?” He asks against your mouth, knowing better than to break apart again. 

“More, please,” you clutch at him, the hand that’s not at the top of his spine digging its fingers into his shoulder, “Inside, baby.”

Finally, he slides his middle- and ring finger into your awaiting heat. Pretty little wife, wasn’t that what he’d called you? You clench around his digits at the idea that it will mean that he’ll make you come with his wedding ring on his finger one day. 

“What happened there?” He asks in awe, referring to the way you just choked his fingers. He curls them inside you, repeatedly hitting that perfect spot that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, unable to keep kissing him, and look to the sky, “Nothing, just thinking of you as mi esposo guapo (my handsome husband).”

Javier pushes his hips forward to let you feel his hard cock against your thigh, “Watch it or I’ll fuck you right here on the street. What a mess that’ll be.” 

Those words spike your arousal. Mixed with the way he fucks you open on his fingers, your peak nears faster than normal. You partly blame it on the danger of the situation too; the excitement of maybe getting caught even if the streets are pretty much deserted at this point. 

“You like that idea, huh? That what makes my baby come?” He asks with a hint of a condescending tone. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in tight circles while he drives you wild with his fingers in your twitching cunt. 

You shake your head but your pussy clenches again, betraying you. His snicker is dark and he speeds up his hand’s thrusts, “Then you better keep quiet for me. I don’t think you can though, can you, baby? Fuck, you are gorgeous and good for me.” 

Teetering on the edge of release, you curse yourself as you moan despite your best efforts to keep your lips zipped tightly in public. Javier’s eyes flicker with mischief and self-satisfaction and his free hand comes up to cover your mouth. He holds your gaze intensely, “That’s right. You’re so loud for me, baby. Can’t help yourself when I make you come.”

You start to tremble. He smirks, “Come for me. Right here, right now.”

With a final thrust of his fingers, you come undone, your body shuddering against him as waves of ecstasy crash over you. He catches each of your cries in the palm of his hand, successfully muffling them so no one will look out their windows to see what the racket is about. But then again, is the sheriff going to arrest himself for indecent exposure? 

When you come down, he has you mewling feebly as his fingers are still inside you, now moving gently to tease out a few aftershocks. He smiles softly at you, eyes locked onto your tired ones, and removes his hand from your mouth when you’ve calmed completely. 

“Jesus,” you chuckle and inhale sharply as he withdraws his hand from your ruined underwear. He admires the shine on his fingers underneath the moonlight, watching the way the slick coats his fingers in pearly white. You feel beyond flustered as he cleans them with his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on yours in a hungry and obscene display. 

“You taste so good,” he licks between two fingers and reminds you of how his tongue also makes you come like no one else ever has. 

You smile lazily and lean against the car, still trying desperately to catch your breath whilst your legs shake beneath you. When you try to straighten your clothes, he bats your hand away and helps you with a gentleness that makes your heart ache for this intimacy to be forever. 

“Your place?” You ask as he straightens out a fold on your hip. The night screams for more of this, more of his hand touching you. 

“Yeah, get in the car,” he replies and unlocks the vehicle for you, “Let’s go home.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[peterm4rker]

(❆⋆.˚) the stich that stole christmas !

⋆ 𐙚 ⭑.ᐟ [haechan x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.2k w. cursing, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

christmas with donghyuck was always an adventure and a half.

there was always something for him to do, an occurrence to make your supposedly peaceful winter time into the most chaotic time possible. one year it was baking cookies for your entire friend group, another volunteering at the most hectic shelter he could find. this year, he had decided it was appropriate to engage in an ugly sweater competition.

“you’re going down” he snickered, poking at your cheek with a smug expression as you made your way into your shared room “i’m going to have the ugliest sweater you’ve ever seen”

you rolled your eyes, hiding the humor that was laced on them “nu-uh, mine is going to be so much uglier” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“my sweater is going to be so ugly that you’re gonna cringe when you see it” he pressed, getting closer to you.

“i always cringe when i see you” you gave him a smug smile, chuckling at the way he pouted. you stole a quick kiss from his lips, attempting to kiss his pout away. “i’m just joking, baby”

“you hate me, just say that” he whined dramatically, grabbing your arms to throw them over his shoulders and let his weight fall on your body, pushing you to the bed. you let out a loud laugh as you hugged him tighter, nuzzling your nose to his hair.

“i don’t hate you, hyuck” you reassured, hand flying to his hair to brush your hair through it. 

“i don’t believe you,” your boyfriend answered, a pout evident in his voice.

“and what am i supposed to do to make you believe me?” your voice was laced with humour and fondness as your heart shrinked with love.

“let me win the sweater competition.” you could feel his smile on the skin of your neck, tickling you softly.

“absolutely not, but i can give you kisses” he lifted his face immediately from its hiding spot on the curve of your shoulder as he heard your words, puckering his lips and waiting for what you had promised.

you couldn’t help but giggle softly before peppering his face with pecks, ending it with some on his lips. being with donghyuk meant having to deal with his clinginess and his whiny nature, but you would be lying if you said they weren’t some of the many reasons why you had fallen in love with the brown haired boy.

…

“does it have a picture of chenle on it?” donghyuck asked curiously as he followed you around the kitchen. 

“of course not, why would it?” you snorted, continuing to move around the space as you prepared hot cocoa for both of you.

“well, he’s pretty ugly” he shrugged, looking at you with lovesick eyes, following your movements like a lost puppy.

“let’s not lie to each other” you chuckled, looking back at him and stealing a peck from his cheek before he began whining.

“then is it a picture of your family dog?” he asked, trying his hardest to not let his smile break through his lips.

“hey! he might not be beautiful but he's cuter than you” you stuck your tongue out at him, feigning offence as you took both of your mugs to leave them on the coffee table in front of your tv.

“i take offence to that, if i'm not cuter than that dog then maybe i should be the one put on that sweater” he made an exaggerated grimace.

“you’re so mean, he’s beautiful” you retorted, trying not to laugh at his funny remark while you climbed on the couch, covering yourself with the cozy blanket.

“you literally just said he’s not” donghyuck pressed, following you quickly and cuddling to your side.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” you tried to ignore as you turned the tv on, looking for your favorite christmas movie.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed, rolling his eyes in feigned disbelief. he watched you for a couple seconds, knowing that he had a limited amount of time before your attention was taken by the tv. “i have a proposal” he heard you hum as you clicked into the movie, pausing it and looking back at him with a questioning look. “let’s have a prize for the winner, the boys can be the jury”

you thought about it for a second. with your friends as judges, you had a pretty big chance of winning. they loved annoying your boyfriend, anyways. “okay, and what’s the prize?”

the boy took a second to think, tapping his chin with the point of his finger as if he were in a movie. “loser has to wear a maid dress around the house for a whole week”

the seriousness in his voice and expression caused you to let out a groan combined with a laugh. what did you expect?

“if you’re fine with your friends seeing you in one of those when they come over like six days a week, sure” you retorted.

“i don’t care because i’m not going to be the one wearing it” he shrugged, a smug smile placed on his lips.

“oh, so you’re fine with them seeing me in it? i’m surprised you are, knowing all the things chenle has told us” you arched your brow at him, smiling at the sight of his smile falling immediately.

“you’re right, we have to think of something else” he nodded, making you chuckle softly. it didn’t register in your brain how you could be so endeared by such simple things, but you were with every single thing he ever did.

“what about loser pays for dinner?” you asked as you reached to brush a strand away from his eyes, your hand moving on its own looking to touch him some way. he instantly nuzzled his cheek to your hand, and you swore your heart melted right there and then.

“that’s boring” he pouted, looking at you through his eyelashes like he knew you loved “i will gladly pay for your dinner any time you want”

you smiled instinctively, leaning to peck his lips quickly. “okay then, the loser pays for dinner and has to wear the sweater out to whatever fancy restaurant we chose.”

he thought it over for a few seconds before finally nodding. “okay, deal” he smiled as he moved to envelop you in his arms, pulling you closer to him. “i hope you know that i’m going to try harder to win now, i won’t ruin my fashionista rep”

you snorted as you grabbed your mug from the table and moved to lay your head on his chest, taking the remote and pressing play. “you don’t have a fashionista rep” 

“shh, baby, the movie is starting” he shushed you, making a smile widen on your lips as you watched the title appear on the screen.

…

you sighed heavily as you opened the door to your apartment, wanting nothing but to jump into your boyfriend’s arms after a long day of responsibilities. as you closed the door behind you, your eyes searched for him, eyebrows furrowing together when you noticed he was nowhere to be seen. you checked your watch, he should’ve gotten home two hours ago. huh, weird.

“hyuck? i’m home” you called out, settling your things on the table and beginning to take off the many layers of clothing that covered your body from the cold weather of the outside world. your body jumped slightly as you heard a loud noise coming from your room, but you calmed down as you heard your boyfriend’s familiar voice exclaim a hushed “ouch, shit”

it didn’t take long for hyuck to come rushing into the room, running towards you and engulfing you in his arms to twirl you around. “hi, beautiful”

“hi, my love” you smiled and cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a short kiss. “what were you doing?”

his brown eyes widened like they only did when you had caught him red handed on something, blinking a couple of times before shaking his head “nothing, don’t worry your pretty little head about it”

you looked at him, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what he was doing before he heard you come in. if he wasn’t terrified of what was to come next, he would have laughed at your face and how you made that exact one when you couldn’t read something that was a tiny bit too far away.

his eyes searched yours nervously until a loud gasp erupted from your lips, your hand flying to point at him. “you were looking for my sweater!” you accused.

shit.

“no i wasn’t!” he tried to defend himself, hands flying up to his sides as if they were to prove his innocence.

“yes you were! you dirty cheater” you exclaimed, your finger poking his chest accusingly. “i cannot believe you”

“oh, stop being so dramatic! i didn’t even find it” he rolled his eyes, a fake pout finding its way onto his lips.

“so you were looking for it” you glared at him, and he sighed heavily.

“maybe, but i didn’t find it so it literally doesn’t matter.” he watched as you opened your mouth to retort, but he was quicker. “now, stop complaining and let's go take a warm shower together.”

maybe you would tell him no if you weren’t about to freeze to death before, but you were… and he was offering… and well, you wouldn’t have ever refused, really.

“let’s go, but know that i’m relocating the sweater” you walked away, aiming for the bathroom.

“i looked everywhere, no way it’s here” he spoke, following after you like he always did.

“i guess we’ll never know”

… 

the day had finally come. the majority of your friends were sprawled around you and donghyuck’s living room, except for mark, who jaemin had said had a prior engagement to attend to. you decided to ignore the fact that he had been missing many of the group activities since december had started, you would pry it out of him later.

“okay, i think it’s time,” donghyuck spoke, interrupting the ongoing conversation as he looked at you. you nodded at him, standing up from your place on the floor and looking for renjun’s eyes to send him a signal. he nodded as well and stood up as you and hyuck disappeared into separate rooms of your house, leaving the rest of your friends confused.

renjun handed them each clipboards and a marker before standing on the entrance to the living room “gentleman, today is the day” he started off dramatically “today, the fate of a dinner and hyuck’s nonexistent fashionista rep is on your hands” his words made everything make sense, and the rest of the boys straightened on their seats to play along. “the two participants will come in with eyes closed, as they are not allowed to look at each other until the judges have made a decision.” he continued, raising his voice so you would both hear him. “without further ado, participants, come in”

you thanked the universe for choosing your house to host the event as you walked into the room with your eyes closed, trying your hardest to remember where everything was placed. you could feel hyuck standing next to you as you reached what you thought was the middle of the room.

“you’re soo losing” your boyfriend whispered next to you in a sing-song voice.

“never, fashionista.” you stuck your tongue at him even though he couldn’t see you, a smile replacing the gesture as you credited your banter for the muffled laughter that came from your friends.

“okay, the judges have made a decision,” renjun spoke, a smile evident in his voice. “make sure to look at them before you look at each other please, now open your eyes in three… two.. one”

you opened your eyes and were immediately faced with confusion as each of them held a word to form the phrase “you are so stupid”. your eyes instinctively switched to your boyfriend, trying to see if he was equally as confused.

“oh, you’re fucking kidding me!” you exclaimed as you finally looked at him, seeing nothing else but the fact that he was wearing the same exact sweater as you.

the boys exploited in loud laughter as you stared at each other in disbelief for a few seconds before he groaned dramatically and you prepared for the tantrum he was about to throw.

…

“well, it wasn’t that bad at the end of the day” you broke the silence as you finished the bite of food you were eating. 

“yeah, i guess it wasn't,” donghyuck smiled, the dim lighting of the restaurant reflecting on his honey coloured skin, making him even more majestic than he normally would even if he was wearing the ugliest sweater you both could find.

𐙚 blue's corner ;; heyyyyyyy. i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it ! i've been feeling really fluffy for hyuck and i think its showing a lot but idc bc he deserves it. this is for my wife, my everything, my one and only @lyvhie and also part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both of my blogs ! 𐙚 taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee 𐙚 back to the masterlist. 𐙚 please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

© peterm4rker, 2024

[msfantasy-comics]

The Friends to Lovers

Jason Todd x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Best friends who have known each other for years. Suddenly, Jason and Y/n realise their deeper feelings, leading to an unexpected romance

A/n: YALL this has been sitting in my drafts since 23 June 2023 and I FINALLY finished it today 11 April 2025— even though I already posted something today— I waited so long to finish this, imma just post it

Deep connections are often forged in the briefest encounters. Such is true for Jason and Y/n, whose connection is rooted in the magic of brief glances and polite greetings. But the frequent encounters experienced between Jason and Y/n had led them to be more than random strangers passing in the hall. One moment they were locker neighbours, who would share snacks, or pass class notes and the next they were friendly acquaintances, which quickly turned into a full blown friendship.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the moment the friendship blossomed as it feels as though Jason were always just part of your life and it’s certainly hard to imagine what it would be like now without him.

Jason is the sole reasoned you survived high school. Without him, your sanity would have long since vanished.

Now as adults you navigate the challenges of adulting. Your best friend, your roommate, the absolute bane of your existence.

You hold up a used mug that sits idly in your sink. Storming to Jason’s room you fling the door open with a loud bang not bothering to knock.

“I swear to god Jason, I told you last time! If you have dirty dishes just put it in the dishwasher!” You frantically wave the used dishware. “This is the last time I’m telling you!” Spinning to leave Jason quickly grabs your arm.

“Hey wait, you gave me an idea…” you merely blink at Jason’s ambiguous statement.

“An idea to manage your cleaning capabilities?”

“What? No! Drop the cleaning rant for a moment will ya?” Jason wrenches the mug from your hand and places it on the night stand. “I’m talking about going to that gala that Artemis will attend with her new ‘fiancé’ I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. You’ll be perfect!”

You’re head tilts in confusion like a sweet and confused puppy. “Erm… what? Pretend to be your girlfriend? Are you mad Jay? That sounds like a terrible idea.” Jason only waves off your jab.

“Common Y/n, I need help proving that I’m happier without her. It’s for a good cause, you’ll get to have free food and booze.” You only scowl with crossed arms as you contemplate the temptation at mellowing in the glitz and glam- your night feed taken care of. But pretending to be Jay’s girlfriend, just to make his ex-girlfriend jealous is crazy.

“I dunno Jay-Jay…. Do you really think flaunting a fake girlfriend is proving you’re over her? This elaborate rouse to prove to your ex that your over her is desperate and I’m embarrassed for you right now homie.” Jason only shakes his head. “Seriously Jay, you’ve been happy and flourishing without her, you don’t need to flaunt a fake girlfriend just to prove it.”

His serious face turns into an antagonist smirk. The kind of smile he makes when he seeks a deeper truth. “There’s something more to it isn’t it? Don’t lie sunshine, I can see it all over your face. What are you really afraid of?” Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, you can never have a secret of your own around him, he’s far to observant. You feel far too embarrassed to admit the ugly truth, but it has to be said.

“What if I get all like… I dunno… get confused…” Mumbling the last part you shyly look up at Jason. His analysing stare quickly turns to laughter which is insultingly loud. His face twisting in gut-clenching humour.

“Yeah right! You’re my best friend Y/n! We wouldn’t- we couldn’t.” His laughter continues to boom but that voice in the back of your head is still announcing it’s concerns.

You would never admit it to Jason, but you did use to have a school girl crush on him. He’s handsome, friendly and funny, he makes you feel so special. It’s hard not to get caught up in that Todd/Wayne family charm. His charisma is intoxicating, and you won’t lie to yourself that a small part of you had wished that he’ll see you as more than a friend. At least, that’s what you use to believe. You’ve spent so many years by Jason’s side you truely have come to experience all of his ugly sides. He’s childish, inconsiderate, selfish, uses humour as a deflection, un-committed and above all else, you’ve personally witness the Jason Todd heartbreak train.

You have both been friends for so long that an romantic hints have long since died out.

And just like that, watching Jason laugh til he wheezed over the proespects of either of you catching feelings, as if it was impossible to like you as anything more - squashed all of your feelings away.

Concerns be damned, we’re friends, and that all we’ll ever be.

“Fine I’m in.”

You were starting to realise that your reservations were not unfounded.

This bastard really invited me to his family hosted gala for a dumbass reason and couldn’t even be bothered to pick me up and bring me here.

You grumble in the backseat of the limo that is pulling into the driveway up to the red carpet where the paparazzi stood all on one side with their cameras flashing.

Ah fuck, is it too late to change your mind?

Before you could even request for the limo driver to continue driving out of the estate. The driver jumps out of the car racing to your door to pull it open.

As soon as the car door is pulled open, the bright flashes flare sporadically towards your direction as you slowly crawl out of the limo as elegantly as one could.

Whilst you may not be enjoying the frenzied flashes of the photos being taken. You were rather enjoying how put together you looked that evening.

Courtesy of Jason he insured that you would well taking care of by a team of designers, make-up artist and hairstylist.

While, you were skilled enough to get yourself ready. You appreciate how the team of designers custom made you a couture dress that fitted your figure more flattering than any other piece of garments in your closet and the fabric colours matched perfectly to your palette.

Never mind if you were quite skilled with make up; being skilled enough to enhance your features after years of practice. But never had you thought to use the products that the make up artist used, never had you thought to apply the techniques that they had and never had you thought that you would be able to make your face look more perfect than they were able to

And whilst your hair always looked done well never had you been able to style it the way that they did.

So yes, the flashing cameras were a bother but it was also a warm welcome considering how much you are feeling yourself right now. Excited to see the pictures and look back on this night of when you felt the most beautiful you have ever been in your whole life.

“You clean up well.” Jason says appearing by your side suddenly and looping his arm through your own. “Let’s get this over with shall we?” He says not passing you a second glance. 

“Are you serious? Men at the gas station have given me much higher compliments for much less.” You scoff rolling your eyes as you take a step forward.

“What am I? Your boyfriend?“ 

“Yes. Tonight, you are or have you forgotten?” You whipped back making Jason hesitate in his next step.

”Oh right.” He falters, but just as quickly he stands straighter, his shoulders squared. “You look remarkable doll.” He praises, pulling you in just a little bit closer. So he can nuzzle your neck. The action alone has the red carpet lighting up like fireworks. Almost blinding you completely, but Jason pulls you along with him.

You’d be lying if you said his condescending tone didn’t piss you off, but there was a sense of wanting to hear him speak those words to you authentically. You really couldn’t help but silently revel in his praise even if it was all a facade.

As soon as you to pass the paparazzi, you enter into the large hall filled with copious buckets of exotic flowers, the dining tables well dressed, with overelaborate centrepieces dominating the space.

At the end of the hall was a band propped up on a makeshift stage performing a soulful ballad.

At first you were looking forward to the glitz and glam, but the longer you look out into the hall and take in the faces of the crowd suddenly you were feeling more out of place. Normally you couldn’t give rats, about what others thought of. But the more you observed the crowd raking in your figure the more self-conscious you were growing. “Jason—“ you called out turning to the person who expected to be by your side suddenly gone.

What the fuck?!

Your head whips quickly, looking desperately to see where Jason has disappeared to.

There’s no way he brought you here just to abandon you.

You’re just about ready to storm back out through the door when Roy Harper catches your hand.

“Where do you think you’re going beautiful?” Roy says with that dangerous smile of his.

“Roy!” You greet enthusiastically, just about launching yourself into his arms. Caught off guard with your excitement, Roy stumbles back slightly, laughing at your unexpected antics.

“I’m surprised you’re here. Jason never comes to these things if he can help it. But you know how Oliver gets if I try and skip.” Roy shudders at the memory.

“Yeah well, Jason had this genius idea that we should play house in front of Artemis.” You answer as Roy slides a flute into your hands.

“Seriously?“Roy begins as you sip on your bubbly drink. “He’s the one that broke up with her so what does he even want?” You choke ungracefully on your drink.

What do you mean he broke up with her? Wasn’t it the other way around?”

“Aren’t you meant to be Jason’s number 2 friend or something? I thought you knew.”

“You mean number 1– because you’re number two.” You defend your title but Roy only shrugs his shoulders dismissively.

“Artemis accused Jason of having feelings for you and gave an ultimatum it was her are you.” You stare at Roy with wide eyes. “But just like always he chose you.“ He says lightly, as if every single word that he’s spoken so far hasn’t just about punched you in the gut.

“What the hell do you mean just like always?”

“Come on kid— how much longer are you two going to keep dancing around the facts? You know that Jason relationships haven’t worked out because of his feelings for you.” Your heart pounds in your chest. Your breath getting caught in your throat.

“Why are you saying all this?”

“Because it’s obvious your meant to be together and I’m sick of the slow burn! Just get together already!” Roy cheers making you frantically shush him as heads begin to turn to your direction.

“You just want my number one spot.” You huff, more so reassuring yourself that Roy’s antics are just that.

“Don’t deflect— I’m being serious… your number one spot is just a coincidental benefit for me when you two finally just admit it.”

You managed to avoid Jason for most of the evening—successfully, in fact—until you slipped out the side doors into the garden for a moment to breathe. That’s when you ran into Artemis.

“Oh—sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here. I’ll just go—”

“Wait a second. Come back,” she said, gesturing for you to sit beside her. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

You approached slowly, feeling awkward about sitting next to Jason’s ex-girlfriend—the one he supposedly broke up with because of you.

“I have to admit,” Artemis began, her voice light, “a small part of me is glad to see you two together tonight. It just… validates how I felt back then. After months of agonizing, wondering if I made a mistake. Seeing you now—I can tell you really do like each other. Romantically.” You nearly cringed at the word, instinctively wanting to correct her. But something told you to stay quiet.

So you listened. “But it’s weird,” she continued. “Because in another way—I don’t care. Without you, maybe Jason and I wouldn’t have broken up. And if that didn’t happen, then I never would’ve found Wally.” Her gaze drifted dreamily toward the ballroom, where Wally stood among a small crowd, clearly saying something ridiculous. You both smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Um… sure…” you said, hesitantly. Something in her tone made you nervous.

“Tell me the truth,” Artemis asked, locking eyes with you. “Do you love him?” Her gaze was unwavering, and in her eyes you saw something raw, searching—not judgment, just an honest plea. You almost gave her your usual answers.

Don’t be crazy, of course not.

He’s my best friend.

He’s basically my brother.

But you knew if you lied, if you denied it again, you’d be doing her—and yourself—a disservice.

So for the first time ever, you told the truth.

“I do,” you said softly.

“Romantically?” she asked, gently pushing.

“Romantically,” you confirmed, and it came with a surprising sense of relief.

“When?” she asked, now visibly intrigued.

“I’m not sure if there was one exact moment,” you said, the memories tugging a smile to your lips. “But I remember the first time I saw him… I thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. And when we spoke, I just wanted to be someone important to him. Friend or… maybe something more.”

You glanced toward Artemis. She was listening intently.

“The first time I saw him with someone else, I was crushed. And every girl after that just made it easier to harden up. So I waited. I told myself to move on, to just find someone else. I thought I would...”

Artemis tilted her head. “So that’s when you finally admitted it to yourself?”

You shook your head. “No. I admitted it to myself a long time ago. But when you showed up… that’s when I accepted he’d never feel the same. But I was okay with that—as long as he had someone like you.”

Artemis placed a gentle hand over yours.

“So that’s why you begged me to take him back…”

Before you could answer, Wally appeared in the doorway.

“Sweets! Ready to go?” he called, holding up her purse.

“Thanks for the chat, Y/n,” Artemis said, standing with a kind smile. “I truly wish you and Jason happiness.”

You watched her rush off to Wally, your moment of catharsis now fading, replaced by the crushing weight of reality.

You were still living a lie.

How much longer could you keep pretending? Watching Jason live a life that didn’t include you—not really. Pretending you were content as just his friend, when in truth, you were using that friendship as a substitute for the love you could never express.

You weren’t his friend. You were a woman suppressing her feelings, convincing herself that his proximity was enough. But it wasn’t.

And worse—you were dragging Jason through it with you. Ruining his chances with other women who sensed your infatuation. It was one thing to lie to yourself…

But it was another to drag him along too.

“Wow—you almost convinced me,” came a voice behind you. “Good speech, you really out performed yourself.”

Jason.

You looked up at him, heart thudding painfully. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

“Jay—that wasn’t a lie,” you said quietly.

“What are you talking about, doll? Of course I know you love me, just… not like—”

“But it is like that,” you interrupted.

Jason blinked. You could already see the mental gymnastics beginning.

“Yeah-yeah, but what you really mean—”

“Is that I love you.”

You said it with finality. You wouldn’t let him reframe your words this time.

Jason froze. “You… don’t want me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t—”

“I do.”

“Can—can you just stop for a second?!” he snapped, raking a hand through his hair. “You just think you do, but you don’t. Not really.”

“I do.”

“God—why are you being like this?” he said, voice cracking with something close to panic. “You don’t understand—I ruin things. I always do. Even if you love me now, later you won’t. I’ll ruin it, like I always do.

“I can’t make you want to be with me, Jason,” you said, voice steady but soft. “But I’m telling you I do love you. I’m telling you I want to be with you. I’m telling you I don’t want to be anything less. And I’m asking you—be mine.”

Jason was silent. For a moment, you feared he would walk away.

Then, softly, like an exhale. “I’m already yours, doll. Always have been.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “So what does this mean, exactly?”

Jason scoffed, as if the question was ridiculous. “It means I want you to start telling people I’m your boyfriend. Your partner. It means I want to come home to you—always. Sleep in our bed. Wake up beside you. And I don’t want to look at anyone else the way I look at you.”

He stepped closer, now only inches away.

And then—finally—he did what you’d both wanted for so long.

He kissed you.

Epilogue (if you can call it that)

Y/n: So I’m guessing you weren’t hung up on Artemis?

Jason: I really couldn’t give a shit

Y/n: …. So then why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend to make her jealous?

Jason: … I wanted to see what it was like having you as a girlfriend

Y/n: …

Jason: … what?

Y/n: … you’re doing too much— seriously— you should’ve just told me you wanted me— could’ve saved all these years of mutual pining

[wordstome]

könig as the nutcracker 🥹🥹

you just brought some terrible sleeping beast out of me, anon.

nutcracker prince König x fem reader (mostly gender neutral but you're wearing a dressing gown)

tw: mouse murder???

He's a very odd looking nutcracker, all things considered, but you can't take your eyes off of him.

"If it's a nutcracker why does it have that stupid veil over its face?" Your brother asks, noisily crunching candies between his molars. You glare at him, both for the rude remark and for chewing with his mouth open.

"This is a special one," your aunt gushes. "He's based off of a legendary soldier who never showed his face on the battlefield. One of a kind, from a specialty toy shop.”

"How interesting..." You muse, gently rubbing the fabric of the veil between your fingers. It's sturdy fabric, but still soft to the touch.

"He was probably ugly as hell," your brother declares. You swat him, and he only cackles and gets up to graze at some more sweets.

"Maybe you should try covering that ugly mug up once in a while," you call after him. He pelts you with a walnut shell.

Your aunt shakes her head fondly. "This one's not just decorative," she says. "He's a real nutcracker by Steinbach."

You look at her, wide-eyed. "So he can crack nuts?"

She nods and tosses you a hazelnut. "Try it."

You lift the wooden man's veil a little to put the hazelnut in his mouth. You could just pull the whole thing up and out of the way, but that feels almost...forbidden? You're not sure why you feel this way—he's just a piece of wood, after all, and he probably doesn't even have anything painted on underneath the veil other than those vibrant blue eyes. But even so, you're hesitant to unmask him.

Cracking the nut works like a charm, though, and some childish excitement bubbles up inside you as the remnants of the cracked hazelnut spill into your palm. "That's incredible!" you gush, running your thumb over the nutcracker's lacquered uniform.

"What do you mean incredible, that's what nutcrackers are for." Your brother returns, a few walnuts rolling around in his palm. He holds his other hand out. "Give him here."

"No. You called him ugly, so he's mad at you," you say, teasing him by holding the nutcracker out of his reach.

Your brother rolls his eyes. "Give it here, you little shit."

"Crack your own nuts," you shoot back. "This is my nutcracker."

He makes another grab for it, and this time he manages to grab the nutcracker's arm. It's only a lighthearted tussle between siblings as you shove at your brother and he refuses to let go of the nutcracker's arm—until it's not.

A terrible snapping of breaking wood causes you to gasp. The two of you stumble away from each other from the force, your brother holding a tiny wooden arm in his hand. He's just pulled it clean off. On closer inspection, your idiot brother has somehow managed to Hulk-rip the arm piece off of the piece that fits inside the socket. "This is a brand new nutcracker, how did you fuck it up?!" you cry.

"Hey, you should have—" Your brother takes one look at your expression and decides not to give you a hard time. "Look, I'm sorry. I was too rough on it. Sit tight for a second." You sit there, numbly staring at the pieces of your poor nutcracker. Really, it's your fault too—why didn't you just let him have the damn thing?

And why is this upsetting you so much? The nutcracker's just a decoration, albeit one with a little more function than most. You feel a sort of attraction to this little wooden man in your hand, though. Maybe it's because his unique design is interesting, or maybe it's because you're intrigued by the idea of a masked soldier who never shows his face. Either way, he was your gift anyway, so it's not that unusual that you're attached to him...right?

"Here, let me see him." Your brother's back, but to your horror, he's holding a pair of needle-nose pliers. "Absolutely not," you respond, jumping up from where you were sitting on the floor. "You are not getting anywhere near my nutcracker with those things. You're just going to fuck it up even more."

"It'll be fiiine," he insists, clicking the pliers open and closed like some maniacal toy surgeon. You're not sure you like the devious glint in his eye. Your brother's a nice guy for the most part, but sometimes he gets this look in his eye that you imagine Dr Frankenstein must have had when he was assembling his creation.

You hold the nutcracker and his detached arm protectively to your chest. "I'll figure out how to fix him in the morning with glue or something," you insist. "I don't need you poking around with pliers and splintering the wood."

"Are you sure? I am sorry, for what it's worth."

You wave him off. You're still kind of mad at him, but you're both adults. You'll live. "Don't worry about it. I think I'm going to head to bed soon, anyway."

"You should keep his arm with him, dear," you aunt pipes up. She had gone into the kitchen during the whole ordeal, but had probably heard everything go down. "Tape it to his side or something. You wouldn't want to lose it."

That's a good idea, you muse, examining your poor amputated nutcracker. You're just about to take her suggestion when you get an idea.

Your brother checks in with you later, right before he goes to bed as well. "You can't be serious," he says. "You made him an arm sling?"

You tie the knot on the little scrap of cloth around the little wooden man's arm nice and snug. "Oh, I'm dead serious," you say. "Doesn't he look cute?"

Your brother lets out a resigned sigh. "Yeah. Sure."

The rest of the evening is relatively uneventful. You put the nutcracker in your room, right on top of the dresser, while you go about your bedtime routine. It always brings you a bit of joy to walk out of the bathroom and see him there, standing tall and proud.

Well, your evening would have been uneventful...had you not bolted awake in bed an hour or two later.

You're groggy and confused, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when you hear the cacophony of noise. It sounds like footsteps, dozens upon dozens of them, stampeding through your walls. And then the mice show up.

They crawl up from the corners and the floorboards, swarming across your room. You're too terrified to move or even scream out, sure that you must be having some terrible nightmare or hallucination.

And then your nutcracker moves.

You're absolutely positive now that you must be dreaming, watching frozen from your bed as your nutcracker leaps down from your dresser as if he's a living, breathing man and beginning to fight the mice. And he's even...talking?

"Finally, some worthy adversaries!" you hear him cry. You gape at this bloodthirsty little soldier as he beats through mouse after mouse with his tiny sword.

It's an impossible battle, you think. There's no way he can take all those mice alone, and with one injured arm aside...you're usually pretty squeamish when it comes to dubious little animals, but you can't just leave your nutcracker to be overwhelmed. Besides, this is all a dream, so nothing matters, right?

There's one mouse, larger than the others, who's at the back of the pack, squeaking as if giving orders. You're having quite a wild dream, honestly, because the mouse is even wearing a little crown. Like a king, you think with some amusement. You reach over the edge of your bed to pick the mouse up by the scruff.

You're not quite sure what happens next. One moment, the mouse is chattering angrily at you, the next you're on the floor. At first you think you've simply lost your balance and fallen onto the floor, but when you scramble to your feet, you nearly fall over again as you take in your surroundings.

You've shrunk.

Your bedroom is cavernous above your head, your bedposts and furniture as tall as skyscrapers. And worse still, the mice are huge too: the once palm-sized mouse king is now as large as you are, sneering down at you from his snout. You didn't even know mice could sneer.

You yelp and throw yourself to the side to dodge one of the mice lunging at you. "It's time to wake up," you mutter to yourself through clenched teeth. "It would be really really nice to wake up right about now...!"

The mice are unrelenting, a vicious gleam in their eyes as they nip at your heels. They manage to corner you against a piece of furniture, snapping their jaws menacingly. All you can think to do is pray as they draw ever closer, their breath hot as they crowd around you—

A sword neatly lops off the head of one of the mice in front of you.

You gasp and look upwards to see your nutcracker looming above you, his sword gleaming in the low light of your bedroom. He's incredibly menacing at this size, his veil becoming intimidating rather than charming. You're far smaller than him now—if he had been a normal sized man, he would have easily cleared six feet. His eyes are vibrant and intense, staring down at you for a brief moment before they turn back towards his enemy.

You sit there, stock-still in awe as you watch him mow through his adversaries. It takes you a moment to realize you probably shouldn't be hanging around and gawping. Good thing, too, because your knight in shining lacquer is too distracted to notice he's being snuck up on. The larger mouse is creeping up behind him, a wicked glint in its eye.

"No!" you cry. Thinking fast, you pull off your slipper and chuck it at the mouse's head, stunning it. I can't believe that actually worked, you think.

You have to give your nutcracker some credit, his reflexes are wicked-sharp. In a single heartbeat, he's run the mouse king through with his sword. He cuts an imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. But there's a sort of glee in them as well, the kind of thing that should make you uneasy.

It doesn't.

The rest of the mice, seeing their leader fallen, beat a hasty retreat, tugging the corpses of their fallen comrades along with them. You watch them, fascinated, until all that remains of the bloody conflict are a few tiny pools of blood streaked along your floorboards.

"I must thank you," comes the voice of your nutcracker. You look at him, unsure of what to say. You're welcome for throwing a shoe at a giant mouse to keep it from killing you?

"I...of course," is what eventually comes out. You smooth out your dressing gown in a futile effort to look presentable. "I couldn't let him hurt you."

The nutcracker tilts his head curiously. "You don't know me."

"Of course I do. You're my nutcracker," you say, instantly feeling silly once the words leave your mouth. You just received him as a gift, and you only just found out he was sentient anyway. You don't know why you feel so protective...

He shifts his injured arm, the sling still in place. "You bound my arm, as well."

You flush with embarrassment. "I-it was the least I could do," you stammer. "I shouldn't have let my brother do that. Really, it was my own fault—" Your words die in your throat as the nutcracker moves in close to you, so close that you can feel his body heat. Since when did he have body heat?

"Pretty," he murmurs under his breath. You stare at him, dumbfounded. Is your nutcracker...hitting on you?

Suddenly, you snap back to your senses. "Oh my God," you exclaim, staring down at yourself and then back towards your surroundings. "I'm still small. And I haven't woken up yet. Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Please tell me I'm dreaming." You pinch your skin, letting out a small exclamation when it hurts. But you still don't wake up.

"Hmm...you won't solve your predicament that easily, little one," the nutcracker muses.

"Wha—do you know how to fix this?"

"I have a hunch," he responds, brow furrowing. You hadn't noticed eyebrows on him when you were examining him earlier in the evening, you note.

"Do tell."

"You've had a curse placed on you, but I don't know how to break it. I do, however, know someone who might know how."

"Well then take me to them!" You stare at him beseechingly. You watch as several indecipherable emotions run through his eyes, then he nods.

You visibly relax. "Thank you."

"You'll have to trust me. You may find the whole process a little...fantastical."

"More fantastical than my nutcracker coming to life and fighting an army of mice on my bedroom floor?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes crinkle in a way that must mean he's smiling.

"More fantastical than that," he says. He offers you a hand like a true gentleman, and to your shock, it feels like flesh, not wood. His grip is firm but soothing, his hand so huge it dwarfs your own.

"Let's do this, then."

uhhhhhhh wow this got kinda long I had to cut it short. I'll probably write a part 2? But it's gotta wait because I've got a gazillion other things to write first :P Thank you for the inspiration, anon! 🥺

[starry-bi-sky]

more clone^2

snippet 21: Danny is Bruce Wayne's Clone and--

Star, with the rest of the A-List girls: alright ladies! it's time for our quarterly 'cutest boys' list! Now I'll get straight to the point, in our number one spot is--

All girls, in unison: Danny Fenton

Star, writing it down on a whiteboard: and for our number two spot--

---------- Snippet 22: clone meet clone

Ellie, dramatically: Danny!

Danny, equally dramatic: Ellie!

Ellie, pushing past him and looking around: where is he! i wanna see the little guy!

Damian, with a sword, brandishing it dangerously: *in arabic* don't come any closer, stay back!

Danny, wrapping an arm around Ellie's waist and pulling her back: woah, woah - he's still adjusting to everything

Danny, turning towards Damian with his google translate open: [please don't stab her. this is Ellie my clone.]

Damian, lowering his sword in disbelief: 'there's MORE of you?

-------------- Snippet 23: Ellie has the same epiphany as Danny

Ellie:...hey Danny

Danny, pouring over his arabic book: hm

Ellie: since I'm your clone, and you're a clone of Bruce Wayne, and Damian is a clone of Damian Wayne, does that technically mean I'm his mom - uh. dad-mom?

Danny:

Ellie:...its a fair question

Danny: .....*deep sigh* you're his cousin until further notice.

------------ Snippet 24: wait for me ii (hadestown, live vers.)

(i'm not sure of the context, but i've been thinking of Danny saying this to Damian during a serious moment for days. the snippet title is the song that the dialogue below is from)

Danny, fixing up Damian's wraith suit: the meanest dog you'll ever meet

Danny, zipping up damian's jacket: it ain't the hound dog in the street. he bares some teeth and tears some skin, but brother,

Danny, adjusting Damian's gloves, pausing to look him in the eye: that's the worst of him.

Danny, he holds a finger up to Damian's eyes and points it at him: the dog you really got to dread, is the one that howls inside your head

Danny, grabbing damian's mask and smoothing it over his eyes: it's him whose howling drives men mad, and a mind to its undoing

------------ Snippet 25: Danny is Bruce Wayne's clone-- (Battinson Vers*)

Ember, in the middle of a fight with Phantom + Wraith:

Ember, knocks off Phantom's mask for the first time: lets see what ugly mug you're really hiding under there, Phantom--

Phantom: *the wettest, most pathetic looking pretty boy on the planet*

Ember:

Phantom, dryly: what, did your mic die out or something? all that caterwauling finally make you lose your voice

Wraith, unsheathing his sword: *vibrating with baby brother rage bc he knows EXACTLy why Ember is silent*

----------- Snippet 26: Damian is finally starting to play nice :)

Dany: hey... guys.... whatcha doing

Damian, hanging out with Sam: Me and Manson are plotting ways to crush the Mayor's plan to cut budget funding for the city parks and cut down the native trees

Danny: oh, i see.... is this safe?

Sam: probably

Danny: hm.

------------- Snippet 27: digging up cold case

Danny: ....if Damian is out with Sam tonight with their plot against the mayor....

Danny, turning towards his desk: then that means I can work some more on Mrs. Witherbury's murder case that she asked me to solve without Dames guilt-tripping me into bed :)

Danny, settling down at his desk with a thermos full of coffee: i'm glad sam and damian are finally getting along

--------- Snippet 28: sparring

Damian, frowning: your reflexes are incredible but your combat is downright awful, brother. it's truly a miracle i didn't skewer you upon our first meeting

Danny, got his ass kicked by his 7yo brother: *groaning in pain* not everyone has super secret assassin training, Damian. And I don't really have time to actually practice anything.

Damian: Mrs. Fenton knows martial arts and her form is proficient enough, I'm sure she would be delighted to teach you if you asked. I will join since I need to keep my skills sharp and my training was unfinished when I arrived here.

-------- Snippet 29: daytime surprise

Phantom, fighting Skulker in broad daylight: *under his breath* at least Lancer's english test will get canceled for this...

Phantom, dodging a blast from Skulker: *in ASL, furious* don't you have anything better to do, you fuck!?

Skulker: foolish ghost child, speak! I know you're capable of it - speak before you lose the ability to

Phantom: *flips him off instead*

Wraith, sending back a ecto-blast with his sword: please pay attention, phantom

Phantom, doubletaking: *in a hissed whisper* what are you doing here!? it's a school day, you should be at school!

Wraith: Tt. If the boot fits.

------------ Snippet 30: guilt

Danny with his head on his desk, his elbows propped up as he massages his hands: hn

Damian, lurking to the side with a guilty look on his face:

Damian: can i....

Danny, silently holding his hand out to Damian: hrm

Damian, immediately taking it and doing the massages + finger exercises: ...im sorry

Danny: hm... I forgive you

[angstigone]

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

this is my valentine's day gift for @akifordessert!

thank you for listening to my silly talks and encouraging my writing, it means the whole world to me and I had to put somehwere all the new knowledge about nagumo that we got.

WARNINGS: 18+ minors/ageless blogs don't interact, very selfship-based, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex implied/referenced, dub-con (they are both a bit wasted, but also this has been building up for a long time), implied/referenced trauma/murder/gore/survival guilt, relationship angst and commitment issues, manga spoilers, set in an au where they get some rest.

the bottle had been a bad idea from the get-go.

still, it'd have been rude to be invited to your friend's penthouse with empty hands, especially when you were celebrating something big, like the jaa finally being debunked and his reinstatement into the order.

well, there had been a lot that had gone through the months and hence the moment that you had received a message on your phone from an unknown number with a familiar code to decypher, you had been well aware that you couldn't say no.

still, you could have not bought the wine bottle.

a whole wine bottle.

you weren't exactly a lightweight, and drinking and eating always ensured that you'd get at best a positive buzz which made you slightly more sociable than usual.

assassins were trained to handle alcohol in quantity and to recognize their own limits, although there was only so much that could be done with somebody's metabolism.

as in the case of nagumo.

your glass wasn't ever empty and neither was his as he kept on pouring while each recounted the current state of affairs you were working on.

"... should have seen shishiba's ugly mug when he saw me again"

the first sign that the night had gone too far should have been the way that nagumo took the occasion to lightly come closer to him while he slurred the comment.

"... I think he's still butthurt about that one time when they gave us chase and you kicked osaragi's ass while I was doing the same to him".

"can't blame him, although I think it's more that he just really can't stand you".

still, the buzz had felt good and nagumo's added warmth after years of having denied it to yourself was as intoxicating as the liquid that kept being poured into your glass.

"... surprised they let you join again. especially after you... let me think... tried to kill a few of its members...".

"you were with me onto that!" he protested cheekily, and lightly making his glass overflow onto the floor although neight of you seemed to care.

"... oh and you also threatened the same man who recluted you, didn't you".

"yotsumura hasn't gone that far to hold a grudge because of such a silly thing" nagumo exclaimed, as he downed the liquid in his glass in one shot, making you giggle at the childish display.

"hey, pace yourself!" you shot back, grabbing the glass from his hand and trying to ignore the way your hand lightly itched where you had touched, inevitably a sign that it had been too long "... or you'll throw up and I am not your cleaning lady".

"yeah, she's actually nice to me".

"because you pay her!".

he was far too gone, to try such cheap tricks; comments onto your meanness hadn't ever worked onto you, especially after graduation. there was so much more that he could have used to hurt you: betrayers, double-faced and especially a personal favorite, coward.

«you have grown quiet» hadn't you? «... should I put some music? or do you want me to fill your glass».

«no to both or we'll get an headache» another glass and you'd effectively border onto uncharted territories, especially when nagumo looked like he was far past them although still himself deep down.

and yet, the way he was slightly slouching, with his hair falling down his face.

there had been a time throughout the mess that had come before this peace that you had been so close to tell him what you had felt for him.

that despite the bet on your feelings back at jcc, you still loved him and hadn't changed your mind even though you had been horrible to him while working.

"it was all an act, but somehow I know you could see right through it".

«you ain't funny» he shot back, moving to push back, probably to do either of his proposed activities as he regularly disregarded your desires. probably because he knew you better.

you went to stop him out of habit, but as he turned to you, you only then realized how close you were.

how you could see the subtle way in which his eyelashes flustered and his eyes dipped to your lips for but a moment.

sober nagumo wouldn't have done it.

or he'd have but not in the almost dorky way in which he rushed your gaze back to you, scared to be caught.

you had a protest right at the tip of your tongue and yet held back.

something was more urgent as your hand went to thread softly into nagumo's hair and before you knew it, you were pushing him closer to you, till your lips clashed into an awkward kiss, as your dizzy brain hadn't properly valued the measure of distance.

you found yourself kissing his upper lip more than his mouth, and the slight space between his nose and mouth, in an awkwardness that hadn't been there even on your first kiss, which had been coincidentally with the same person whose mouth you were slobbering.

when shame got to you and you moved to detach yourself from him, still, nagumo brought you closer.

he whined, like a puppy, pawing at your shoulders and adjusting for you your heights as he went to straight up lick into your mouth with even less coordination than you. the result: your lower lip felt humid and you chased after him finally meeting in the middle.

his hands went from your stiff shoulders onto your back in matters of minutes while your own pulled onto his hair, fisting it enough that you didn't know why it didn't hurt.

it was clumsy as you made out like two hot teenagers at their first fondling session, and yet, as unrefined as it was you found yourself quickly moving your hands lower as nagumo's own slipped underneath your dress - of course, you had worn a fucking dress, thinking that it only fit the rich aesthetic he gave off.

you hadn't thought at all about the easy access it gave him, as he stroked gently over your panties.

«... wet...» he mumbled against your hips, pushing out his tongue as he licked against your cheek, no better than an overexcited puppy and somehow the sight felt endearing.

especially with one of his hand creating friction between your thighs

«... fuck, I missed... I missed feeling you get wet against my fingers».

«you are drunk» it was important to reinstate that, if not for him, for yourself; what were you even doing crawling into bed with the man that you had been loving since you were eighteen, drunk and ditzy? «... you are seeing... seeing things».

«no, no... I... it isn't... seeing» he giggled cutely and you hadn't thought that it'd ever come back, the slight openness of eighteen and not yet, being tainted by your respective sins «... I can... fuck... you feel exactly as you used to do. you feel like in my fucking dreams».

had he dreamed about this?

about the moment that you'd clutch your thighs against his hand not to make him leave you, although your mouth said the opposite.

in vino veritas or some shit like that and if your mouth was too sober yet, your body didn't share the same curtesy.

and maybe that's why although you knew this was wrong - you were ditzy at best, old enough to consent and definitely the tension had been brewing for years at his point - you let nagumo push you down on your back, splaying your messy hair on the floor, cold marble, enough to make you giggle.

"... you have an expensive house and the place where you first fuck me since we got back, is your floor?" you teased, catching a glimpse of something almost genuine in his displeasure with himself as if he had thought that your comment had been serious.

«come» he said, as he got off you, making you inevitably whine at the loss, although you didn't know whether it was the loss of his warmth or the fact that you felt extremely clingy due to the alcohol.

read as in you had missed him, so tantanizingly much.

normalcy wasn't even close to a concept for what could happen between you; neither of you would ever come close to quit your job anytime soon and you wondered whether a family was even in the works, as it felt presumptous to think that a simple drunk fuck might be enough to restablish a relationship between the two of you.

although you did follow him - you'd be awful to have your host stumble through his mansion - as he led you to his bedroom; similarly to the rest of the place it was expensively impersonal and yet, you didn't see much because the moment that the door was closed, you were slammed against it.

nagumo had, at least, the decency to cushion your head clumsily with an head before he resumed the series of sloppy kisses, moving downwards your body as his hands fiddled with pulling the skirt of your dress up, exposing yourself to his huge black eyes.

for once you were thankful of the alcohol, as in any other state, you wouldn't have been able to hold the sight of his eyes as he slowly slid your panties - one leg and then another, strangely patient for a drunk guy - before he left them on the floor, looking back at your heated core.

he didn't do much for enough time that you thought it was done, he'd be soon asleep in the alcohol haze.

instead, he dived forward enough that hadn't you had the door behind your back, you'd have stumbled backwards.

hands dug into your thighs to keep you in place, as a clumsy tongue tried to spread your foldes while his nose inevitably bumped into your engorged clit; oh fuck, if your knees hadn't doubeld over before, they certainly did now, as one of your fingers dug into the wood of the door as if you could leave marks.

«sl... slow, nagumo» you plead and ordered at the same time, unsure of whether you should make this quit for both of your sakes but holding yourself back «... it's been... it's been a while».

«good» he sounded so self-satisfied, with his face shiny from your juices «... I fucking want you to come to me, for this. only me».

«pres...» your voice cracked pathetically as he adjusted his positioning and dug his tongue into you while his thumb went to flick your clit.

it was too much as you hadn't been lying when you said it had been a long time since your orgasms hadn't been hand-delivered by yours truly, but you simply took it.

«... ump... presumpt... fuck, right there».

whatever he blubbered against your sticky folds was probably a comeback to your patheticness. to the fact that even in your alcohol haze, you surrendered to him.

the bottle of wine had been a terrible idea and yet, you found yourself not regretting it one bit.

---

coming back home to nagumo always felt like being greeted by an overexcited puppy that had grown overnight and hadn't yet gotten used to his measures.

«... eggs! eggs!» you screeched, holding the groceries bags away from him as he smashed himself against you wholly, pressing your chests impossibly closer as if he wished for you to become one, which wouldn't have been surprising «... and I was gone for two hours at max!».

«bed felt cold and you left a note» he simply muttered back, nosing his way through your neck and after weeks of enduring this, you had an inkling that it might be because he was trying to sniff any male cologne, although you usually just went to the daily farmers' market nearby.

as nagumo wasn't a morning person - and neither were you - you usually took advantage of his sleeping pattern to get a few rounds done by the time he'd wake up.

usually this would entail grocery shopping, checking a few stuff for work - although both you and nagumo were supposedly off - and restock on stuff you couldn't have gotten to through the week.

a silly deal between you and nagumo was that you'd use one of the two days of the weekend to do something productive, instead of lazying around his bed as he wished; the other, you'd do that till he got bored. or hungry which was more likely.

the newfound routine felt at times constricting and far too domestic and there were times when you'd be walking around the farmers' market and wonder whether you did deserve it.

whether the blood on your hands would ever taint what you were building.

thankfully, being smashed into your boyfriend's - self-appointed - tits felt quite grounding in that department.

«... yeah, yeah, but you know that each saturday I have my routine» it was the last signature of singlehood that she mantained although not many approached you due to the ring on your left hand.

a huge rock that got you oftentimes worried that somebody might have the brilliant idea to mug you.

and you'd have to beat somebody for it which felt like unnecessary paperwork.

«now, I have to shower and then I can join you back in bed till lunch time».

«mmh» her muttered appreciatively, although his kisses were definitely anything but, as they dragged hot and heavy against your exposed collarbones, making you flustered as you lightly started slapping his back to be released.

«no, you can't join me in my shower» you shot down the unspoken question, hearing an hiss and a whine.

did you mention that you boyfriend - wait, fiancé - was an overgrown puppy?

«... entertain yourself with the new sudoku magazine i got you».

at that he was off you, making you almost chuckle at his antics as he went - almost childishly - to reach for the bags in your hands, digging his hands to grab at what you had promised and giving you the chance to look at him; nagumo was always pretty in a way that got you to genuinely want to chew down onto something but him... in the morning... with you?

devastatingly gorgeous.

messy hair, eyeabgs that were going away and geeking out like a nerd for his silly sudoku game.

hhm, although your favorite look on him had to definitely be his drunken gaze when he finally slotted himself inside of you again, a few months ago. when he had looked up at you while you tried to control yourself from tightening around him, not wishing to give him the upperhand.

it had all been useless, because the moment that your eyes met he had uttered.

"fuck, I am never leaving you, again" and that had been it.

«so, you do love me!».

you were taken aback by your horny thoughts, when again a pair of arms was carelessly thrown at your neck, although with far more intensity than before; this was meant to annoy you as he nuzzled his nose into your collarbone.

«ahhh, you do like me! you like me so much that you remember what I like! and...!».

«... and that's enough» you pushed me lightly; you knew that nagumo had better reflexes than that and he could have easily enveloped you again, but you guessed being in a relationship required bargaining: you agreed to sleep into his bed till lunch time and let you handle your stuff in peace «... you get an headstart but don't think that I won't finish my crosswords first, alright?».

«that's because you cheat» he said with a soft smile, moving to turn towards the bedroom «... look up the words while I am asleep».

«if somebody wasn't a huge big baby...» you teased genuinely, simply receiving a clear glare although even that didn't feel threatening in the slightest. and even if it did, it was in a good way.

as of lately everything felt ... threatening, but in a good way.

[ayeyolooo]

The duff

You walked through the hallway with your two bestfriends. They were so pretty that everyone only paid attention to them."Hey mikasa! Sasha!" Everyone said as they passed by. You just kept walking. It hadn't got you because you really could care less. You know what you looked like at home.

"Okay guys I'm going to chemistry I'll speak to you later." You pecked the both of them on the cheek as they did the same to you. "Okay see you later y/n!" Sasha said waving. You just smiled and waved back. You walked into your class. Armin connie and eren all sat at one table. The three of them were your neighbors,they were so rude and obnoxious. Even through you grew up with them they all found ways to piss you the fuck off.

"Ohhh there's y/nnnn." Armin said looking at you. "Ayo l/n come here." Eren called out. You just ignored him and made your way to your desk. You placed your bookbag on the seat next to you since no one was sitting there.

"Okay you guys,please continue your labs,please put your goggles on." The teacher sat down at his desk. You placed your goggles on before you leaned forward to see your project better. You dropped the little tabs into each of the liquids that sat on your desk. You seen the reactions and you recorded them. As you were writing Connie made his way over to your table.

"Oh y/nnnnnnnn." He whispered. "Get the fuck out of my face ugly bitch." You mean mugged him. "Oh come onnn don't act like that." His green brownish eyes looked at you as his tatted hand went to your tickle spot and he stated tickling you.

You moved your body to stop him. you slapped him in the face. "Move bitch." You said in a laugh. "Mr.springer please have a seat." Your teacher said. "My bad." He said. He smiled and licked his lips before he went to go and sit back down.

———-

Class was over with. The bell rang as everyone began to pack up. You stood up and you placed your folders and journals in your bookbag. "Mr.springer,mr.alert and mr.Yeager." The teacher called out their names.

"Yes?" Armin asked. "If you all get another f in my class you will have to repeat the course." The teacher said. "So me and mr. Longhorn has decided to suspend you three from the football team until you all pull your grades up. And you mr.alert im very surprised that you aren't passing your work." The teacher turned around and walked back to his seat.

You made a face like '😬' before you made your way out the door. The boys began to talk behind you as you walked to your locker. You opened it and placed all of your books in it that you didn't need.

"If it isn't the duff of her friend group." Eren said wrapping his arms around you. You shrugged it off. "The fuck Is a duff??" You turned around and looked at all three of them.

"You don't know what a duff is??" Armin's eyes widened. "If I did I wouldn't have asked dickhead."

"The duff stands for the designated ugly fat friend." Connie said. Your heart dropped. "I'm sorry what?" You placed your hand up to your ear.

"It stands for the designated ugly fat friend.." Eren replied. "That's why y'all's asses are failing chemistry and I hope yall gotta retake that shit too." You said walking to your class. "Wait y/n." All three of them said.

"It doesn't mean like your ugly or anything it stands for like I'm the less hot friend in the friend group that's all." You just looked at them. "I'm telling ms springer mr.Alert and Carla that y'all are failing chemistry and they gone beat y'all's asses." You folded your arms. They stood on the side of you.

"Aight now y/n you pushing it." You just mean mugged them. "Y'all leave me the fuck alone." You sped up. But armin gently grabbed your shoulder. "Okay how about you help us with chemistry and we'll help you look less like a duff?" Armin asked. You just looked at him.

"Unt unt get somebody else to do it." You said

[magic-shop-stories]

reader has to win the trust of bts back after losing it ?

💌 Reply:

hey, there🥺✨ first off, so sorry this took forever... I had so much to do and wanted to make sure each member’s HC's felt true to their heart but I wasn't sure how to write it - so I added a lot "reader parts" too - not sure if I said this right💔 But your request is now posted! THX for trusting me with it - I hope it's what you wanted... xo - c -

BTS (OT7) HEADCANONS - READER HAS TO WIN BACK TRUST

↳ BTS × READER

NAMJOON

WHAT HAPPENED

you’d been Namjoon’s confidant for years

you're the one he trusted to handle sensitive details about BTS’s collaborations

last-minute conflict arose with a producer

= missed deadline that risked delaying the album

you chose to bury it

believing you could fix it quietly

you didn’t want to add to his stress

producer called him directly, frustration sharp in their tone

Namjoon stood frozen in the hallway

phone clutched too tightly

realizing he’d been blindsided by someone he’d entrusted with his art

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

doesn’t raise his voice

doesn’t need to

when he finds you, his posture is rigid

shoulders squared like he’s bracing for a storm

“We need to talk"

voice low and steady

knuckles white around the edge of his notebook

leads you to his studio

air smells like stale coffee and ink

Internal Monologue

Why? 

= loops in his mind like a broken track

replays every conversation you’ve had about transparency

he’d once said: “No secrets, even the ugly ones.”

is trust isn’t just emotional

it’s strategic

questions his own judgment

"Did I make you feel you couldn’t come to me? Or did you just… stop believing in us?"

Actions & Subtle Cues

Avoidance

stops lingering after meeting

When you speak, he nods

but types aggressively on his phone, thumb jabbing the screen

Hyperfocus

reorganizes his bookshelf at 3 a.m.

categorizing by genre and color

as if control over something might steady him

Lyrical Clues:

you find a crumpled draft in the trash: 

“A bridge half-built trust in the mortar but the rain came first.”

Dialogue

try to explain

“I thought I could handle it...”

cuts you off, tone glacial

“This isn’t about your capability. It’s about you deciding my limits for me.”

glasses slide down his nose

doesn’t push them back up

“Do you know how it feels? To stand there, unprepared, because someone you trusted… edited your reality?”

WHAT TO DO

Apology Letter

write it three times

first draft is tear-smudged and defensive

second is too clinical

third is raw

“I treated your trust like a shortcut instead of a compass. I’ll never do that again. Every day, I’ll prove I’m someone who deserves to walk beside you, not behind you.”

slip it into his copy of his favorite book

Silent Presence

show up to his late-night walks along the Han River

trailing 10 steps behind

he doesn’t turn around

but you catch him slowing his pace so you can keep up

compile a dossier of backup producers

annotated with strengths and risks

leave it on his desk

doesn’t thank you, but the next day, his coffee cup rests on top of it

ring-stain circling your notes like a stamp

Fallout

when the team argues about the delay = speak before he can

“It’s my fault. I’ll handle the rescheduling.”

watches you over the rim of his glasses

jaw tight, but doesn’t correct you

HIS RESPONSE

First Crack

two weeks later

he “accidentally” leaves his studio door open

hover in the doorway

he mutters

“If you’re coming in, at least fix the coffee. Two sugars, not one.”

his tone is gruff

nudges his mug toward you

= a peace offering in ceramic

Conversation

waits until you’re both knee-deep in lyric revisions

doesn't look at you

“You know what’s worse than a mistake? Silence.”

pen taps the paper

“I need your voice, not your silence. Even if it’s messy.”

Actions Speak Louder

starts texting you screenshots of vague, stressful emails with no context

= a test (Will you ask? Will you push?)

bring him a new plant to replace one he overwatered

names it “Phoenix”

places it where you both can see it

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

trust returns in increments

lets you preview a solo track titled “Dichotomy"

= song about fractured trust and stubborn hope

during a VLIVE, he mentions “someone” who taught him forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling

doesn’t say your name

his dimple flickers

New Normal

still double-checks your work

now he leaves Post-its with questions instead of corrections

“What do you think?”  “Is this fair to us?”

realize it’s his way of saying: “I need you here. Stay.”

Final

months later, at 2 a.m., he calls you

“Can’t sleep. Let’s walk.”

you're at the river

hands you a poem he’s written

lines crossed out and rewritten

one phrase remains untouched:

“You are my flawed, necessary mirror... breakable, but brighter for the cracks.”

you glance at him

he’s staring at the water

his pinky finger brushes yours

JIN

WHAT HAPPENED

Jin had spent weeks planning a special dinner for the group

= a way to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday and lift morale after a draining promo cycle

he’d confided in you

voice uncharacteristically soft

“I want it to feel like home. No managers, no cameras. Just us.”

you promised to handle the setup

= decorating the dorm, hiding gifts, and most importantly, distracting Yoongi until the surprise was ready

but you got swept up in a last-minute fan event

lost track of time, arrived two hours late

dinner was ruined

Yoongi walked into a half-decorated room

Jin scrambling with cold tteokbokki and deflated balloons

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

laughs, loudly

claps his hands like it’s all a hilarious joke

“Wow, this is a twist! Who needs surprises when you can have… uh… spontaneity?”

his ears burn red

won’t meet your eyes

Yoongi quietly says: “Hyung, it’s okay.”

Jin’s smile cracks

disappears into the kitchen

sound of aggressive dishwashing fills the dorm

Internal Monologue

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

replays the hours he spent marinating the meat

or the way he’d practiced Yoongi’s favorite childhood dish three times to get it right

even wor his “Worldwide Handsome” apron unironically

he feels foolish

not just let down, but exposed

his vulnerability is a raw nerve

Do they think I’m just the clown? That my efforts don’t matter?

Actions & Subtle Cues

Deflection

next day, he jokes to Jungkook

“Guess I’ll stick to gaming! At least my teammates show up.”

his voice lacks its usual lilt

Avoidance

stops initiating movie nights

you bring up his new cooking video = he shrugs

“Eh, it’s just content. Doesn’t need to be perfect.”

Overcompensation

gifts Yoongi an absurdly expensive bottle of alcohol “just because”

refusing to acknowledge the birthday disaster

Dialogue

catch him alone

chopping vegetables with unnecessary force

“I’m so sorry...”

he interrupts, waving the knife like a prop

“Relax! It’s not a big deal. Yoongi prefers takeout anyway.”

his hand trembles slightly

nicks his finger

sucks the blood away, muttering

“See? I’m fine. Always fine.”

WHAT TO DO

Apology

he’d never accept a tearful plea

drag him to a private karaoke room

order his favorite snacks

with zero shamebelt “Epiphany” off-key

he cringes, laughing

“You’re not just ‘the funny one.’ You’re our glue. And I treated your heart like a punchline. I won’t do it again.”

Feed His Love (Literally)

learn his mother’s kimchi recipe through trial and error

first batch is inedible

you leave it at his door with a note

“Round 1: deserves better. I’ll keep trying.”

every Friday, you bring him homemade broth

rolls his eyes but starts leaving empty Tupperware outside your room

Public Acknowledgment

next group dinner, raise your glass

“Jin planned this whole night. He’s the reason we’re family.”

kicks you under the table, cheeks pink

later texts: “That was… not terrible.”

HIS RESPONSE

First Thaw

“accidentally” buys two tickets to a comedy show

“Ugh, someone bailed. You wanna go? Don’t make it weird.”

during the show, he snorts so hard he spills popcorn

for a moment, his shoulder brushes yours

Late-Night Confession

find him on the balcony at 1 a.m.

he's staring at the city lights

“You know why I cook? It’s the one thing I can control. The one way I know… I’m needed.”

flicks your forehead

“But you? You’re not allowed to need me until you prove you’ll stay.”

Actions Speak Louder

starts texting you ridiculous memes at 3 a.m.,

gift him a custom apron embroidered with “World’s Okayest Chef”

wears it for a live stream

“A fan sent it!”

lies, winking at the camera

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

trust returns in layers

lets you assist with his next cooking video

you burn the rice

he laughs genuinely, eyes crinkling

“Wow, you’re worse than Namjoon!”

confides his anxiety about enlisting

“Don’t let them eat junk every day.”

pretending it’s a joke

= it’s a plea: Take care of them. Take care of me

New Normal

still teases you mercilessly

but there’s a softness now

saves you the last piece of steak, grumbling

“You look too skinny.”

when you’re late again (traffic, this time), he meets you at the door with a smirk

“I started without you. But… I saved the best part.”

Final

you recreate his failed dinner, perfectly

walks in, sees the table set with his fancy dishes, and groans

“Yah, you’re so extra!”

his voice cracks

later, pulls you aside

“You did good."

flicking your ear

“But never outshine me again, okay?”

YOONGI

WHAT HAPPENED

Yoongi had been working on a deeply personal mixtape

one he’d described as “pulling bones out of my ribs to make something alive”

you were his sounding board

= the only person he played raw tracks for

= the one he trusted to guard his unfinished art

during a late-night studio session (frustrated by his perfectionism) you vented to a mutual friend

“He’s never gonna release it. It’s just… self-sabotage.”

friend, trying to “help,” leaked a snippet online to “motivate” him

the clip went viral

dissected by fans and critics before Yoongi even knew it existed online

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

finds out via Twitter

stares at his phone for minutes

jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitches in his cheek

he stands, walks to the studio bathroom, and slams the door

emerges, his face is damp

sleeves rolled up to hide trembling hands

doesn’t look at you

Internal Monologue

Idiot. You trusted an idiot

betrayal isn’t just emotional = it’s artistic

track was a confession

= a scream he hadn’t finished shaping

now it’s reduced to a meme (and a TikTok trend)

wonders if you meant to undermine him

Did you think I was weak? That I needed saving from myself?

Actions & Subtle Cues

Locked Doors

studio is off-limits

changes the passcode

when you knock, he blasts Agust D’s “The Last” until you leave

Professional Detachment

in group meetings, he refers to you as “the team” instead of your name

signs emails with a curt - Min Yoongi

Self-Isolation

sleeps in the studio

surviving on iced Americanos and protein bars

only hint of anger = a dent in the wall where he kicked it

hidden behind a poster of Nujabes

Dialogue

catch him at dawn

shadows under his eyes

“Yoongi, I'm...”

cuts you off

voice gravelly from sleeplessness

“Save it. You don’t get to apologize for my work.”

steps closer

for the first time, you see raw hurt beneath the ice

“That track was mine. Mine. And you turned it into content.”

WHAT TO DO

Radical Accountability

no excuses

write a public statement taking full blame

refuse to name the friend

post it without consulting him

he’ll see it

he sees everything

don’t tag him

don’t beg for absolution

Unseen Support

handle the fallout silently

compile legal docs for copyright claims

scrub leaked snippets from forums until your eyes burn

send the files to his manager, not him

leave a USB drive outside his door with two playlists

Track 1: “Anger” (Hip-hop beats, distorted guitars, lyrics about betrayal)

Track 2: “Regret” (Piano covers of First Love, rain sounds, a 10-second voice note: “I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger”)

Earned Silence

stop talking about the incident

show up instea

bring his favorite iced tea every morning, placing it by the studio door

he finally emerges

gaunt and disheveled

wordlessly hand him a clean hoodie

HIS RESPONSE

First Thaw

a week later

leaves the studio door cracked

inside, the USB drive is plugged into his laptop

“Regret” playlist on loop

doesn’t acknowledge you

but when you set down his coffee, he grunts

“Sugar. Two packets.”

Test

assigns you a mind-numbing task

= transcribing 12 hours of old voice memos

“If you’re so loyal, prove it.”

find notes buried in the file

“2017. Bad day. [Your name] brought tteokbokki"

= realize it’s a twisted olive branch.

Breaking Point

at 3 a.m.

finds you asleep at your desk

headphones still on

hesitates, then drapes his jacket over your shoulders

next day, he slides a scrap of paper toward you

“Fix the second verse. It’s shit.” 

lyrics? 

“A thief in the temple but the god left the door open.”

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding:

trust is a slow remix

lets you back into the studio

you sit against the wall, not beside him

first time you critique a track

he pauses

“Louder. I can’t hear you over the bass.”

releases the mixtape with a new title = “Daechwita (Reborn).” 

leaked snippet is now a distorted intro

fans call it genius

only you know it’s a middle finger to the past

New Normal

never says “I forgive you.”

but throws his empty coffee cups at you (affectionately)

you flinch at a loud noise

“Relax. I don’t waste kicks on idiots anymore.”

Final

months later

tosses you a flash drive

“New track. Don’t fuck it up.”

file is titled “Interlude: Bones Mend.”

lyrics include a line from your voice note

autotuned and woven into the chorus

he’s smirking at his screen

“What? It’s just a sample.”

J-HOPE

WHAT HAPPENED

you’d been Hobi’s dance partner for a high-stakes solo performance at an awards show

= a routine he’d spent months choreographing

blending his signature energy with intricate & emotionally charged moves

during rehearsals, you hid a sprained ankle

downing painkillers and laughing off his concerned glances

“I’m fine, Hobi! Let’s go again!”

you didn’t want to disappoint him

during the final rehearsal, your ankle gave out mid-jump

sending both of you crashing to the floor

the silence that followed was worse than the pain

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

doesn’t yell

doesn’t even look at you

he stands slowly

dusts off his pants

walks to the corner of the studio

hands shake as he rewinds the music

when he finally speaks, his voice is eerily calm

“We’re done for today.”

Internal Monologue

Why didn’t you tell me? 

he’s furious

not at the mistake, but at the lie

prides himself on reading people = on being the someone who notices everything

now, he wonders

Did I push too hard? Or did you never trust me to care?

he blames himself

This is my fault. I should’ve seen it

Actions & Subtle Cues

Professional Mode Activated

switches to honorifics

“Please ensure [Reader]-ssi consults a physiotherapist.”

no more “Hey, superstar!"

no playful shoulder bumps.

Overcompensation

rehearses alone for hours

blasting music loud enough to drown out his thoughts

studio mirror fogs with swea

his reflection blurry and furious

Avoiding Eye Contact

during group dinners, he sits diagonally from you

laughing too loudly at Jin’s joke

when you speak, he stares at his rice like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world

Dialogue

catch him after practice

voice trembling

“Hobi, I’m so sorry...”

cuts you off with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes

“No, I’m sorry! Clearly, I didn’t create a safe space for you to be honest. My bad!”

bows slightly

= parody of politeness

he's walking away

WHAT TO DO

Public Accountability

next team meeting, stand up before he can speak

“I lied to Hoseok. I put our performance at risk because I was scared to admit I was struggling.”

your voice cracks, but you push through

“I’ll earn back his trust, even if it takes years.”

Hobi stares at his sneakers

jaw clenched

he doesn’t interrupt

Match His Effort

Choreo Notebook

transcribe every step of the routine by hand

add notes on breath control and emotional intent

leave it on his desk with a single Post-it

“You deserved this.”

Sunrise Vigils

send him a photo every dawn

= your ankle taped, you mid-stretc

captions like “Day 7: Ready to follow your lead.”

he never replies

after two weeks, he “accidentally” leaves his favorite coffee brand on your desk

Silent Support

attend every practice

even when sidelined

he stumbles during a spin

=you’re the first to clap

“Again, Hobi! You’ve got this!”

he freezes

then repeats the move perfectly

refusing to look at you

HIS RESPONSE

Breaking Point

find him slumped against the studio mirror, head in hands

music’s off, but his foot taps an anxious rhythm

he whispers

“Why’d you do it? I thought we were a team.”

sit beside him

not touching

“I wanted to be someone you could rely on… but I messed up.”

he laughs wetly

“You idiot. I rely on you because you’re human. Not in spite of it.”

Actions Speak Louder

Playlist

sends you a Spotify link titled “HYBE’s Newest Torture Methods”

= a mix of aggressive hip-hop and ballads

Duo Practices

reinstates your sessions but starts with trust falls

“You fall, I catch. Always.”

hands linger on your shoulders a beat too long

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

trust returns in shared sweat and shaky laughter

assigns you the killing part in a new choreo

watches your ankles like a hawk

when you nail it, he whoops

“That’s my partner!"

blushes and pretends to check his phone

during a VLIVE, a fan asks about teamwork

“It’s like… dancing in the rain. You gotta hold hands so no one slips.”

doesn’t look at you

his sneaker nudges yours under the table

New Normal

he’s softer but vigilant

when you yawn, he throws a protein bar at your head

“Eat. Now.”

when you grimace during stretches, he’s there before you can speak

“Ankle? Wrist? Talk.”

Final

at the rescheduled performance, he grabs your hand backstage

“Ready?”

palm is sweaty, but his grin is real

mid-routine, he improvises a move

a leap toward you, arms wide

you catch him on beat

“Thanks for staying”

JIMIN

WHAT HAPPENED

Jimin spent weeks preparing for his first solo stage performance in years

including contemporary dance piece about vulnerability

he confided in you about how terrified he was

you promised you’d be there front-row to watch

on the day of the show, you missed it

work emergency/ miscommunication? = 8t didn’t matter

there was crushing silence when he scanned the audience for your face

later saw your texts: “Something came up, I’m so sorry”

he crumpled his bouquet backstage

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

doesn’t yell

Jimin never yells

tho wraps himself in a practiced calm

= like a silk scarf pulled too tight

you finally meet a day later

his smile is flawless

his voice is hollow

“It’s okay. These things happen.”

calls you “y/n-ssi” instead of your usual nickname

the distance sharp as a blade

Internal Monologue

Why wasn’t I enough? 

replays every time he’s felt abandoned

= his trainee days, the times he’d practiced until his feet bled

wonders if you see him the same way as people before he became famous

blames himself for expecting too much (for letting you matter that deeply)

Actions & Subtle Cues

Polite Avoidance

stops initiating late-night calls

at group dinners, he sits diagonally from you

always laughing a beat too loud at others’ jokes

Overcompensation

volunteers for extra rehearsals

dances until his ankles swell

posts cryptic Instagram stories: “Alone but not lonely 🌙” 

Fragile Deflection

bring up the performance?

he shrugs

“It was just a dance. You didn’t miss much.”

his hands tremble as he stirs his tea

Dialogue

catch him after practice

sweat dripping down his neck

“Jimin, please... let me explain.”

he freezes, back still turned

“What’s there to explain? You chose something else. I get it.”

voice cracks on the last word

“Just… don’t make promises you can’t keep, okay? It’s exhausting.”

WHAT TO DO

Radical Honesty

write him a letter

not with excuses

with ugly truths leave it in his dance bag

Unseen Support

film his rehearsals from the back of the studio when he thinks no one’s watching

edit the clips into a montage of his progress

set them to his favorite piano piece

send it anonymously

buy every vitamin drink he likes and stock the fridge with them

he raises an eyebrow?

“The staff did it.”

knows you’re lying but drinks them anyway

Patient Presence

start arriving early to his schedules

sit in the parking lot with his preferred iced americano

he gives them to staff at first

then, one day takes a sip

“Too much ice.”

next morning, the coffee has half the ice

HIS RESPONSE

Breaking Point

two weeks in

corners you in an empty hallway

his eyes are red-rimmed, fists clenched

“Why now? Why bother?”

voice trembling

“Do you know how long I stood there after the show? I waited like an idiot, thinking… maybe you’d run in, maybe you’d...”

cuts himself off

throat bobbing

Reconciliation

don’t reach for him

just tell him: “I’ll wait as long as you did. Longer.”

he will crumble then

forehead pressed to your shoulder

tears soaking your shirt

“You hurt me,”

he chokes it out

“You promised.”

hold him as he shakes

"I know. I’m here. However long it takes.”

Actions Speak Louder

starts leaving his studio door cracked open

you hear him humming your favorite song

= a test but you knock

“forgets” his sweater at your place

you return it?

he says, “Keep it. It looks better on you.”

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

trust returns in fragile, beautiful steps

invites you to a private rehearsal

new choreography= raw, angry, then tender

= a story of betrayal and hesitant hope

you’re the only audience

texts you at 3 a.m.

“Can’t sleep. Tell me something real.” 

reply with a voice note of your insecurities

ge sends back a 10-second clip of his heartbeat

= recorded against his chest

New Normal

he’s clingier now

it’s tinged with fear

he’ll grip your hand too tight before going onstage

“You’ll stay?”

answer by pressing his VIP pass into your palm until it leaves a mark

Final

months later, he books the same theater for a new piece

this time, you’re backstage

holding his hands as they tremble

“Look at me, if I fall… don’t let go.”

you don’t

when he bows, flushed and breathless, he mouths: “You’re here” 

TAEHYUNG

WHAT HAPPENED

he had been working on a photography series for months

capturing fleeting moments of human connection

=a project he called "Eternal Ephemera."

invited you to his private exhibition

= a deeply personal showcase he’d only shared with a few

you canceled last minute, citing a work emergency

the truth?

you forgot, prioritizing a casual hangout with friends

he texted you a photo of his empty guest seat

caption: “Guess some moments aren’t eternal” 

you brushed it off, joking

“Next time, Tae! You know I’m your biggest fan.” 

days later, you stumbled on his Instagram story

= a close-up of a wilting rose

quote: “The loneliest feeling is sharing your soul with someone who chooses not to see it.”

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

doesn’t confront you

he becomes a ghost in your shared space

his laughter, usually loud and boxy, is replaced by silence

when you try to apologize, he tilts his head

eyes unreadable behind his round glasses

“Hmm? Oh, that. It’s fine." 

voice airy

his smile doesn’t reach his cheeks

Internal Monologue

Why didn’t you care? 

replays your promises

“I’ll always be there for your art, Tae”

wonders if he romanticized your bond

camera becomes his confidant

= takes photos of empty chairs, shattered mirrors, lone footsteps in snow

Actions & Subtle Cues

Artistic Retreat

disappears into his studio for hours

blasting Chet Baker

the door, usually open, stays shut

Fashion Armor

wears oversized coats and berets pulled low

hiding his face

you compliment his outfit?

he mutters

“Clothes don’t lie."

walks away

Cryptic Posts

Instagram fills with abstract edits

=a blurred figure walking away, a burning photo frame

captions are poetry fragments: 

“Seeds planted in concrete / you watered the wrong roots.”

Dialogue

catch him feeding Yeontan outside

“Tae, let’s talk...”

interrupts you

voice soft but sharp

“What’s there to say? You saw my heart and called it… what? A hobby?” 

adjusts Yeontan’s sweater

avoiding your gaze

“Not everyone understands art. I get it.

WHAT TO DO

Unspoken Apology

create a photo series

titled “What I Failed to See.” 

each photo captures a detail Taehyung loves

leave a USB drive in his mailbox with no note

Patient Curiosity

attend a jazz bar he loves

sitting alone at the bar

he notices you, you don’t speak

slide a Polaroid across the table

= a shot of his favorite street musician

captioned “He plays your song better when you’re here.”

learn film photography

burning through rolls of failed shots

he finds your discarded negatives

he sees dozens of attempts to capture light the way he does

Space to Speak

at a group dinner, someone jokes about “artsy types being too sensitive.” 

you shut it down

“Art’s how some people breathe. Mock that, and you suffocate them.” 

Taehyung’s chopsticks pause mid-air, then drop

HIS RESPONSE

First Thaw

leaves a single photo on your desk

=a shot of your USB drive sitting beside his keyboard

back reads: “Exposure time: 7 days. Still processing.”

Conversation

finds you crying in the darkroom

surrounded by botched prints

“You’re wasting film.”

his voice is gentle

guides your hands to adjust the enlarger

“Light isn’t something you force. It’s something you… wait for.”

Actions Speak Louder

texts you a location pin at 4 a.m.

= an abandoned train yard

you arrive - he’s silhouetted against sunrise, camera in hand

“You frame the shot” 

he's pressing the camera into your palms

“Show me what you see now.”

gifts you a scratched vinyl record

“Kind of Blue” by Miles Davis

scrawled on the sleeve: “Some harmonies take time to tune.”

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

trust returns in stolen moments

lets you name his new photography series

“F/1.8 (Fragile Hearts, Infinite Depth).”

during a V LIVE, he plays your jazz Polaroid on screen

he smiles, tilting his head

“A reminder that even broken lenses can focus… if you let them.”

New Normal

he tests you subtly

leaves half-developed film in your bag

“Finish this story.”

asks for your opinion on his outfits

but only in metaphors

“Does this color sound like regret or rebirth?”

Final Scene

invites you to a gallery months later

= his “Eternal Ephemera” reprise

final photo is you

standing in the rain outside the jazz bar, holding his forgotten umbrella

caption: “Ephemeral? Maybe. But the developing process… that’s forever.” 

you turn to him

he’s already looking, eyes glinting

“You stayed in the darkroom long enough to see the image. That’s all I needed.”

JUNGKOOK

WHAT HAPPENED

you’d been Jungkook’s closest friend since pre-debut

= the one he trusted with memories he’d never shared with anyone else

= like the panic attacks he’d hidden during trainee days, or the crumpled letter he wrote his parents apologizing for “chasing a dream instead of being a good son”

on the anniversary of his trainee contract, he’d asked you to meet him at Namsan Tower at sunrise

a tradition you’d kept since 2013

but you canceled last-minute for a work emergency

dismissing it as “just another sunrise”

when he confided his fears about enlisting, you accidentally leaked the conversation to a mutual friend

rumor spread, and he heard it from a staff member first

HIS REACTION

Immediate Response

doesn’t confront you

he stops showing up

his texts go from sporadic to silent

you finally corner him after practice

he’s drenched in sweat

punching a bag with violent precision

“Not now”

voice flat

his yes are red-rimmed

he blames it on exhaustion

Internal Monologue

You promised. 

those words loop in his head like a curse

replays every moment he’d leaned on you

= the night he cried over a vocal mistake, the time he gave you his childhood bracelet “for safekeeping.”

wonders if you ever took him seriously

or if you saw him as just the “golden maknae"

=too naive to need real loyalty

Maybe I trusted too much

he's biting his lip until it bleeds

Actions & Subtle Cues

Isolation

starts arriving early to the gym

leaves late

when you wave, he pretends to adjust his AirPods

Overcompensation

posts Instagram stories of solo hikes at sunrise

captioned “Self-reliance mode 🔒.”

Artistic Outlet

sketches a charcoal drawing of a broken chain

tags it “#growth.”

Dialogue

catch him after a concert

desperate

“JK, please, let me explain.”

he freezes, back still turned

“You know what sucks? I still want to believe you.”

his voice cracks

“But I can’t even look at you without feeling… stupid.”

WHAT TO DO

Relentless Consistency

text him every morning

“6:15 a.m. — at the trailhead if you want company.”

he never replies

on Day 12, he’s there

hoodie pulled low

walks three paces ahead

but doesn’t tell you to leave

learn the choreography for his solo song

practice until your knees bruise

he walks in on you panting

“Teach me?”

rolls his eyes but adjusts your stance

hands lingering a second too long

Tangible Penance

track down his childhood bracelet (lost years ago) and restore it

add a new charm

= a tiny shield engraved with the date you met

leave it in his locker with a note

“I’ll earn the right to hold this again.”

his enlistment rumors flare up?

you publicly take the blame on Weverse

“I broke his trust. Redirect your anger to me.” 

he deletes the post within minutes but doesn’t text you

Rebuild Nostalgia

recreate your first hangout

= arcade games and strawberry/banana milk

scoffs when you beat his racing score

“Beginner’s luck.”

he pockets the prize ticket you win for him

send him voice notes of old inside jokes

like the way he mispronounced “sarcasm”

he listens on repeat but never reacts

HIS RESPONSE

Breaking Point

one rainy night

you find him sitting alone in the practice room

he's replaying a clip of your first dance cover together

he’s shivering in a damp shirt

“Why’d you come back?”

you kneel beside him

“Because you’re my home.”

he laughs bitterly

“Homes don’t lie.”

he doesn’t pull away when you drape your jacket over his shoulders

Turning Tide

two days later, he texts

“Trailhead. 6:15.” 

when you arrive, he tosses you a protein bar

= your favorite flavor

“Don’t faint. I’m not carrying you.”

halfway up the trail, he mutters: “I kept the bracelet.”

Actions Speak Loudest

starts leaving his AirPods case in your ba

= silent invitation to join his walks

during a live stream, a fan asks about trust

he hesitates

then says: “It’s like… doing a trust fall every day. Even when you’re scared.”

his eyes flick offscreen to where you’re standing

AFTERMATH

Rebuilding

he tests you

asks you to hold his phone during a night out

watches to see if you glance at his notifications

you don’t

lets you back into his studio

but only if you sit cross-legged in the corner

“Don’t touch anything.”

weeks later, he slides you a lyric sheet

“Forgiveness is a tattoo... hurts like hell, but you wear it anyway.”

New Normal

he’s clingy in private

possessive in public

links arms with you too tightly at events

like he’s afraid you’ll vanish

he also shares secrets again

shows you demos he calls “too raw for anyone else.”

Final

next anniversary, he wakes you at 4 a.m.

“Namsan. Now.”

at the summit, he clips the restored bracelet onto your wrist

“If you lose it again...”

he warns, but his thumbs brush your pulse point

as the sun rises, he whispers: “You’re still my star. Even when you’re an idiot.”

[erenthology]

eren spraying his cologne on your coat before you leave for work cus he's possessive like that

whoever sent this, you’re my soulmate. I added a small drabble btw <3 also, rando dave is back

Possessive!Eren who doesn’t laugh when you yell him the “funny” story about how Dave spilled coffee all over himself during the todays meeting..

Possessive!Eren who tries to compete by telling you all the funny jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and acting like a clown for you to laugh

Possessive!Eren who wants to keep all your smiles to himself, who hyper fixates on your hobbies to be able to send you memes and anything you ask for. You should be able to rely on him for anything.

Possessive!Eren who shows up at your work to bring you lunch, but it’s actually to show everyone that you’re taken.

Possessive!Eren who gets mad when you tell him about your co worker who’s broke up with her boyfriend, casually conversing that breakup rates have increased significantly and that couples usually end it within the first 5 years. The very idea makes his eyes flash red for just a second. “Not ours, you can count on that.”

Possessive!Eren who gets worried when you’re late from work. (Mind you it can be anything from an hours to 15 minutes) and starts freaking out. After receiving a text that you’re struck in traffic, he hangs up the call to your office and patently waits for you to arrive home.

Possessive!Eren who’s eyes flash murder when you come home crying after work. He coddles you for the rest of the night and tries to convince you to quit.

Possessive!Eren who has a special folder made for times you’re not at home. He follows the routine of opening your drawer and picking out one of the thin materials you like to call underwear

Possessive!Eren who randomly sends you texts in the middle of the day, “hurry home so I can eat your pussy, I’m hungry”

Possessive!Eren who gets worried when he’s not around you because as long as he’s there, people would know you’re his. He makes sure of it.

Possessive!Eren who always asks you to take time off for a vacation. you sigh, “what would we even do?” He grabs you by your chin, “bike rides, I’ll take you to the beach and feed you, movie nights, I’ll eat you out, fuck you silly, you know, that type of stuff.”

Possessive!Eren is the most demanding man you have ever met. He barks orders like a drill sergeant but never at you, never. His only demand is that you stay close to him so he can keep his eyes on you.

Drabble<3

“Eren, are you listening to me?” No, he wasn’t. You’re wearing an exceptionally pretty outfit today, and he’s overcome with the irrational urge to lock you in the bedroom and keep you for himself only. He swallows and responds, “yh, what’s up?”

You roll your eyes, “I asked if this looks good?” you give him a twirl to showcase your outfit. “I’ve got a meeting with dave first thing and I want to make a good impression. you know how judgeful they can be” you sigh.

At this, his ears perk up, dave? “Who the fuck is dave?” he puts his coffee mug down and shifts his entire attention to you.

Deadpanning, you explain to Eren. “my coworker dave…the one presenting the project we’ve been working on.”

Eren doesn’t pay much attention to what you’re saying. He only remembers one part and makes a beeline for it. “What was that about impressing him?”

“well, obviously I need to make good impressions in the office.”

He’s been staring at you for a while now without saying anything. He looks lost in his thoughts today, you think.

It was hard enough with the outfit itself, he thinks. And now you’re talking about this ugly dave dude? Eren takes his time to calm himself and avoid a fight. “You should wear a jacket with that”, he suggested and goes to get his jacket.

The pieces connect in your mind, “Eren, are you acting jealous again?” you yell for him to hear as he rushes to the hall. He comes back with your fall coat in his hand.

“Hey, I’m not the jealous type.(🙄) But what’s mine is mine.” he says and opens the coat for you to put your arms in. You’re immediately surrounded by the fresh scent of his spicy cologne. His significant smell. The aromatic smell fills your nostrils and overwhelms your senses.

You turn to face him and gets granted with with a wink accompanied by sly smile. “Yh, much better.” he says, more to himself than you. You’ve never felt so protected before you met Eren, even if it isn’t always rational, his primal instincts to keep you to himself makes you feel special.

“Let me know if anyone gives you trouble, alright?” You nod your head, standing somewhat dumbfounded. His heart aches at how adorable you look, increasing his illogical demand to ask you to stay and home and quit your job. He wants to provide for you and keep you all for himself, he’s selfish like that. Instead, he grabs grabs shoulders and begins walking you out the door with an arm around you. He always said you looked extra good around his arm.

“Give me a kiss” he requests, craving your attention like the man-child he is. So you pucker your lips and and give him a chaste kiss. As you pull away, he pulls you back with one hand on your waist and the other cradling through your hair, kissing the hell out of you.

You’re left breathless as he draws back, then goes in for yet another peck before taking your hand and walking you to your car. He’s previously insisted and borderline forced to drive you, but is now comprising, which is rare for Eren.

As you drive to work, surrounded by the smell of your boyfriends cologne, he head back to the kitchen where his phone is and starts stalking the shit out of your companies instagram for the “first”time

He just wants to be aware, nothing wrong with it, he thinks as he then opens a certain album your pictures and videos he’d rather die than let anyone beside the two of you see, it’s his holy shrine.

“Fuck..” he breathes and rubs one out to the sounds of your moans with his face buried in your pillow. He can’t wait for you to get home again.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

A very smol blurb inspired by the end of NCIS ep 11.2 so I can cope with my very big feelings (no spoilers, just discussion of our poor honey’s injury)

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x wife!reader

__________

The door is unlocked and the lights are off when you come home which, normally, would be par for the course if not for the truck in the driveway with its hood still warm. Slipping inside and shaking off the fall chill, you drop your coat and keys by the door before stepping out of your shoes and making your way further into the house.

“Jay?” you call out into the darkness. “Y’here? You know I don’t do well with jump scares.”

“Better brace yourself then,” he counsels, and you can tell now that he’s in the kitchen. The small overhead light flickers to life, and you take in a shuddering breath, followed by an eloquent, “Son of a fucking whore, who did this to you?” Shaky fingers reach up to graze the fresh bruise blooming on his face, and you wince at the sight of multiple cuts and his bloodshot left eye. “I bet that fucker’s regretting messing with you, huh?”

“Easy, love,” he murmurs with a smile, delicately taking your wrist in his hand and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Your mouth could rival a sailor’s.”

“Oorah and all that jazz,” you fire back easily. “Answer the question, Jethro.”

“Which one?”

“Jethro.”

“Name’s not important. Locked up and taken care of,” he finally provides as he pulls you into a hug. You nuzzle into his solid chest and tease, “Bet he’s got an uglier mug than you now, hm?”

“You married this ugly mug.”

“And aren’t I just the luckiest gal in the world?” You guide him over to the small table and gently nudge his shoulder. He takes the hint and settles into the chair, finally releasing some tension from the day while you card your fingers through his hair. “I’ll get you some ice.”

Tilting his head back to rest against your tummy, he looks up at you with the closest thing to puppy dog eyes he can muster in his current state. “Make it a beer? It’ll be a twofer.”

“Got it,” you answer, sliding milk and eggs aside to reach for the six pack of your husband’s favorite local brew. You hear the phone ringing as you extract yourself from the fridge, and when you return to his side, Jethro heaves a sigh before lifting the device to his ear with a quiet, “Hey, Ziver.”

You twist off the cap to his beer before placing it down by his hand, then give his shoulder a firm squeeze and press a delicate kiss to his cheek. He places his hand over your own and squeezes back, looking up to meet your gaze with a small smile.

After one more brush of your lips against his temple, you head upstairs to shower and change. He’ll come find you when he’s ready.

__________

LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24

[prettyboypistol]

Match the Freak's Freak || Keatlejuice x GN!Reader +18 mdni

[Clone sex] [Multiple Beetlejuices] [Bjs for BJ] [Eating you out] [Spitroasting] [Daddy Kink] [Dirty Talk]

You met Beetlejuice accidentally, but oh god, it was lust at first sight. If you told your friends you immediately entered into a fuckbuddy relationship with a repulsively disgusting ghost they would shut you out forever. Whatever. All you needed was that man's ugly mug to keep you sane. It must be something in ghostly jizz that kept you coming back, kept making you call him. No matter- you wanted to get dicked down, and you knew just the ghost for the job that matched your libido.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." You called out as you dropped your towel. Fresh from out of the shower, you were thinking of him and got an itch that only he could scratch.

Oh god, he loved when you called him. Beetlejuice secretly loved that you were attracted to him in such a lustful way. As much as he said he "couldn't keep the ladies off of him", most people found him utterly disgusting- netherworld or living. You made him feel sexy, like he actually had some sort of sex appeal to someone. Like he was more than just his chaos.

"Hey there sexy, same deal as usual?" He asked as he bit his lip at the sight of you, naked, and walking towards him. You weren't even dry yet as you pressed up against him.

"Shut up and kiss me, Beej." You hummed as you pulled him by his lapels into a filthy kiss. The sudden lurch made Beetlejuice stumble back, but he eagerly returned the kiss as he groped at your sides and ass. His tongue quickly shoved inside of your mouth- you never thought the taste of wet dust would be intoxicating, but god damn it all to hell, you were in love. In love with a man that could never love you back. But hey, if you kept your mouth shut and enjoyed yourself, you could at least have sex with him.

You heard a snapping of his fingers, then felt another pair of grimy hands caress your front as another Beetlejuice groped your chest and neck.

"Awe hell yeah, that's it babes." The clone muttered into your ear before it licked the back shell. "Grind up all on me like you need it."

You pulled away to take a look at the man(men?) in front of you with a chuckle. You turned away with a swirl to show off your ass as you laid on your bed. It was dingey and the springs hurt your back, but it was yours.

"Get over here and fuck me like you need it, boys." You mirrored as you outstretched your arms to above your head. The clone immediately took off his tie and wrapped it around your wrists tightly- a little too tight if you had to complain, but you didn't care in the moment.

Beetlejuice scrambled over to you and immediately started eating you out, no care in the world as he moaned loudly. The clone chuckled as he whispered into your ear.

"What a dog, am I right? I'm a gentleman of the two of us. Now open up and let my dick get wet."

You snorted at the request, but opened your mouth eagerly. You loved when Beetlejuice didn't wear underwear- which was most of the time. The unzip of his suit pants made you inhale sharply as Beetlejuice probed his long tongue inside you like a twisting tentacle.

"You're this excited to suck dick?" The clone mocked playfully as it cupped your cheek in mock-affection. "What a pretty lil whore for Daddy."

"I only call Beejy "Daddy" when he earns it." You teased right before the clone took the opportunity to shove its dick deep inside your throat without any regard for your gag reflex. Beetlejuice was fully aware that him fully hard caused you to choke, but that was the fun part for both of you.

The clone stuttered its hips a little as it became slightly transparent- desperate to stay tangible to continue face-fucking you. This was one of Beetlejuice's favorite tricks, after all. Anything you did to his clone, he could feel on himself. This was his version of 69-ing.

You swallowed around it as best you could, licking when the clone thrusted out of your mouth, only to let you take a microbreath as it pumped back inside you.

"What a good slut, takin' my dick so well." The clone muttered as it cradled your face between its hands as it straddled your chest for better access. "I oughta really fuck your face, show you who's in charge."

You were given permission to answer, but were cut off by your own groan as Beetlejuice started to push his dick inside you. The only thing you could exclaim was "Beetlejuice!" as he started to rock into you. The clone shuddered on top of you as it fed you its dick again and let you suck it off.

"Hell yeah, toots. suck my dick while I fuck you- the only thing that gets you off now- ain't it? Little fuckin' cockwhore, ain't'cha?" Beetlejuice rambled as he slammed deeper and somehow deeper still inside you.

"Goddamn, I love this piece of ass so much- lemme fuck you forever and I'll swear on Christ I'll beg like a goddamn dog for just a look-"

Ah yep, there it was. Beetlejuice was a talker during sex, constantly telling you how good you made him feel, how no breather has ever let him get it "this good" in centuries, etc. Although, you found it to be an excellent marker to see if he was close or not- the faster he talked, the closer he was to busting his load.

You'd love to tease him, but the feeling of gagging brought you out of it. The clone let out a pathetic little whine and vanished as Beetlejuice focused solely on chasing his orgasm. The pain of being used as a cum-duit was there, but hey- push that feeling down for after he left!

You used your newfound freedom to grab the ghost by his tie, wrap your legs around his waist, and moan into his ear.

"C'mon daddy, you know I'm your little freak."

Beetlejuice groaned as he pushed himself impossibly deep into you with a bated faux-breath. He didn't need to breathe, but sometimes he got to into sex and started to regardless.

"Ohhh babe, you're cruisin' for a brusin' now-"

"Then bruise me." You hummed as Beetlejuice quickly put his hand over your throat and squeezed. That only made you squeeze around him tighter.

"I forgot how kinky you were, toots."

Beetlejuice panted out once, twice, as he thrusted into you as fast as he could manage. You started to rub yourself in all the right ways you knew how- since clearly your ghost wasn't too interested in getting you off as well.

Surprisingly, you came before Beetlejuice with a muffled shout of his name as you choked his cock out, your body essentially begging for the ghost to claim you as his.

With a startling amount of courtesy, Beetlejuice murmured to you "Inside or outside, baby?"

Instead of answering, you locked your ankles around him and pushed your hips into him. You hoped he would get the hint.

He didn't have time to as he stuttered out a moan of satisfaction, cumming deep inside you. The thick ectoplasm filled you better than regular cum did, all without the fears of disease.

"Hot damn, babes- you really needed me that bad?" Beetlejuice laughed as he rubbed your inner thighs appreciatively.

"What can I say? I'm a whore for the ghost with the most- in more ways than one." You responded with another squeeze of your thighs to connect you two further.

"That's what I like to hear." Beetlejuice smirked as he lightly smacked the outside of your thigh with a playful intent.

[heartfullofleeches]

Tucker [Posion Dart Frog Yan] is a little shit, but a dangerous one at that. Being a frog hybrid, I imagine they're a bit on the shorter side. Regardless, they're tall enough to smack the taste (and life) outta someone for going after what's theirs.

-

Tucker: Hey, Pal! Noticed you making eyes at my lover. Real shame you can't find someone special to look at that ugly mug of yours, but that doesn't mean you can steal someone else's flame.

Rival: sorry, couldn't hear you down there.

Tucker: ...

Tucker: Funny.

[Tucker removes one of their gloves and backhands the shit out of their rival - scurrying off around the corner as they fall over convulsing on the street floor.]

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 8/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: in which the “fake” in fake dating starts to rear its ugly head

a/n: probably the most painful thing i’ve ever written

word count: 2.2k

masterlist w/ all parts

“How was practice?”

Azzi gently stirred the mug of hot chocolate as she carefully brought it over to Paige, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

“Pretty good. Worked on our box and one defense.” Paige brought the mug to her lips but Azzi halted her, leaning over to blow on the steaming liquid first. “Careful. It’s hot.”

The younger girl took a seat on the couch, bringing Paige’s feet onto her lap. This is how their past few nights had looked like - Azzi rubbing Paige’s legs while recounting practice detail by detail, from the conditioning to the drills to the scrimmages. It was slightly exhausting giving such a complete run down of their entire three hour practice, especially since Paige tended to asked questions that seemed irrelevant, making the whole spiel last even longer, but from the way the blonde listened intently, Azzi knew that this was how she was coping.

So these days she’d found herself stopping to take notes during practice, of important things that Geno said or observations she made of their plays, so that Paige would have something interesting to hear about.

“That’s good.” Paige pressed the heel of her foot against Azzi’s thigh, sending her a soft smile. “I missed you today.”

Azzi pinched Paige’s skin, a playful grin on her face. “You just saw me yesterday.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. It gets so lonely in here. Going outside is so tiring with crutches and shit.” Paige leaned her head back, breathing hard. When Azzi didn’t respond, only comfortingly patting her leg, she took it as a sign to continue. “I can’t even hang out with the girls no more because I feel like I’m dragging everyone behind, pathetically limping and trying to catch up.” Paige was on a rant now, her pent up anger seeping through her words. “But then I can’t go out alone, cuz sometimes people will start swarming me like I’m an animal at a zoo, and I can’t even escape because of my stupid leg.”

Paige was heaving now, and she was surprised when she looked down and saw that a wet drop had fallen on the collar of her shirt. Touching her cheek with her fingertips, she’d realized that tears had started to fall. “This is so stupid,” Paige grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m getting emotional over this shit.”

“Hey.” Azzi’s voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Paige’s wounds. “It’s not stupid. I get what you mean. I tore my ACL in high school. People always talk about the obvious struggles like not being able to play and stuff, but they don’t know about all these little things that make even daily life so hard.” She gently swiped her thumb over a tear rolling down Paige’s cheek. “I might have a solution to your problems, though.”

“What?” Paige perked up, suddenly interested.

Azzi smirked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

————————

The next day, when Azzi opened the door of Paige’s apartment with the key that she’d been gifted, she came with a shiny wheelchair in tow.

She heard Paige moving around in the bathroom, so she rushed to hide the wheelchair behind the couch before the blonde could step out. The water from the faucet started running, and soon Paige limped out on her crutches.

“Oh my god, you scared me for a second,” Paige laughed.

Azzi slowly winded her arms around the older girl’s waist. “Guess what?”

Paige kissed the corner of Azzi’s mouth, trying to calm her heart that was now racing just from seeing the girl. “What?” But Azzi didn’t respond. She merely grabbed Paige’s crutches with one hand while supporting her waist with the other. She tossed them to the side, laughing at the confusion on Paige’s face.

“Are you gonna magically heal my knee?” Paige asked sarcastically, gripping into Azzi’s elbow for dear life.

“Nope. But today we’re going out, and all you’ll need is this.” Azzi slowly guided Paige to the couch, where she pointed at the wheelchair.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Yes, way.” Azzi made sure Paige was steadily holding on to the couch before jogging to retrieve the wheelchair. “When I tore my ACL I had the same issue. I felt all pent up in my room but crutches were way too big of a nuisance. So my dad surprised me with a wheelchair and he’d just take me to the park and stuff so I could get some fresh air without having to hobble everywhere.”

Paige situated herself into the wheelchair, still in disbelief at the kind gesture. She felt Azzi run her hands through her hair, collecting and bringing it back, exposing the nape of her neck for her to brush her lips against. “Ready?” she murmured against her skin.

“Fuck yes.”

————————-

Paige never thought she’d be so happy to be in a wheelchair. But here she was, being pushed by Azzi around the Storrs campus, and she’d never felt so giddy.

At first, they walked quietly, without aim. Paige would occasionally point things out and Azzi would respond with a hum. Every so often Azzi would let her fingernails lightly scratch across Paige’s shoulders, a soft reminder of her presence, and both were content.

“Oh my god, Az. There’s ice cream.” Paige turned around and gave such adorable puppy eyes that the dark haired girl could only roll her eyes affectionately and give in. When Paige started quietly chanting, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream,” Azzi shook her head, marveling at how to everyone else, Paige as a big and intimidating all star athlete, but to Azzi, she was just a dork.

“You wanna share?” Paige asked, studying the menu with the most concentration and thoughtfulness that Azzi had ever seen from her.

“Only if we get mint chip.”

“So you like toothpaste. Gotcha.”

Azzi leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You weren’t saying that last night.” The blonde immediately blushed, recalling how while they’d brushed their teeth last night, Azzi had looked so gorgeous that she couldn’t help herself but kiss her right then and there. Azzi had shrieked and pushed her off, but Paige had chuckled, pressing another toothpastey kiss to her cheek.

But Paige quickly recovered. “Well, anything tastes good when it’s on your lips.” This time it was Azzi’s turn to blush furiously.

For the rest of their “walk,” Paige focused on slurping her ice cream cone, occasionally lifting it up for Azzi to take a bit.

“You ate basically all of it,” Azzi complained once Paige had popped the last piece of cone into her mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you asking for a bite from all the way up there,” Paige mocked.

Azzi leaned over the back of the wheelchair, staring at Paige upside down. “You’re an idiot,” she’d laughed as she’d pressed her lips to Paige’s.

“Very nice,” Paige approved once they broke apart. “Like Spider-man.”

The girls heard a high-pitched squeal come from behind them, and they both turned around, surprised to see Leo barreling towards them.“That was so cute!” Paige looked down, noticing the camera in Leo’s hand. “But do you think you could redo that kiss, with everything exactly the same? My lens went out of focus so the video came out kinda blurry.”

“What?” Paige looked at Azzi to see if she was just as confused as they were, but Azzi was staring icily at Geno’s daughter, her jaw clenched and rigid.

“Uh, for the documentary?” Leo held up her camera, as if that explained everything. “Azzi, I knew I agreed not to come yet, but this was so great! I think after this we can just move onto the interviews. I won’t be needing any more content.”

“Leo,” Azzi said roughly, taking a menacing step towards her. “Please leave.”

“What?” The peppy brunette looked taken aback.

“No, don’t leave,” Paige interjected. She looked between the two of them in disbelief. “Does someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Now Leo looked confused. “Azzi? I thought you told her?”

“Fucking hell.” Azzi let go of the wheelchair, pressing her palms against her temples. “I was going to,” she mumbled. “I swear I was, but-”

“Someone tell me what the fuck is going on right now.” Paige heard her own voice, and it took even her by her surprise. She hadn’t used a tone so filled with malice and aggression against Azzi since before they’d started this whole thing, and right now that felt like decades ago.

Leo looked hesitantly at Azzi before saying softly, “Um, I know the truth about you guys. That you two aren’t actually dating.”

Panic rose up in Paige’s throat. “Fudd, you told her?”

“I didn’t tell her!” Azzi said quickly, her voice all nervous and high pitched. “She overheard one of our conversations and asked me about it.”

“But I told her I’d keep the secret to myself, including from my dad, as long as you guys would agree to keep doing my segment. It’s way too late into the semester to throw my whole project away,” Leo defended.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Azzi’s heart lurched at the wounded look in Paige’s eyes. She glanced at Leo. This was not the way she’d planned for this conversation to play out, in front of Leo and in public, with some people now staring at them.

“I-”

“Wait.” Paige interrupted. “So why is Leo here right now? Can someone explain that?”

Leo looked guiltily down at her camera, as if she’d just been caught red handed. “Well, you’ve been out with your ACL, so you haven’t really been around to help film for my doc. Which I totally understand, it’s really terrible what happened. But then I realized I was really running short on scenes, and they’re due in a week, so I asked Azzi if there was any chance that I could get any more candids of you guys.” A headache was starting to form behind Paige’s eyes, throbbing and threatening to split her skull. “Azzi texted back and said that she was taking you around campus today, and that I could come get some shots if I wanted,” Leo finished, staring at the ground.

“I told you that you could get some shots after I gave you the say so.” Azzi spit, her eyebrows drawn together in fury as she glared at Leo. “Not whenever the fuck you wanted, just following us like creeps.” Azzi leaned down until she was eye to eye with Paige. “Listen, P. I was planning on telling you that Leo knew. And I was planning on asking you for permission for her to come take some shots at the end of the day, so that she’d have enough to turn in. I was planning on doing all this before Leo came, but I forgot.” Azzi’s voice came out patched and broken. “I swear I wouldn’t have let her if you’d said no.”

Paige‘s knuckles clenched tight, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hand so hard that she started to draw blood. Of course.

Why else would Azzi show up to her apartment with this godforsaken wheelchair, with that stupid big grin of hers, and offer to spend her entire day pushing Paige around like a servant? Azzi hadn’t cared that Paige had opened up to her, been vulnerable to her about how difficult it had been to be stuck on crutches, helpless and incapable. No, she’d wheeled Paige around in order to look like a hero, to look like the model girlfriend in front of Leo’s dumbass cameras, motivated to save her own ass from being kicked off the Europe trip.

All of the times Azzi had shown up to her apartment, groceries in hand, had stayed for a movie and fallen asleep on Paige’s shoulder? Those moments had meant everything to Paige, and nothing to her. Paige cursed herself for letting her guard down, for letting herself fall in love with Azzi Fudd. For letting herself believe that they could be anything more than enemies.

She turned to Leo. “Take me home,” she demanded, her voice cold.

“Paige, wait.” Azzi scrambled furiously to stand in front of the wheelchair. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“Understand what? The fact that you know I have a hard time opening up to people, yet when I finally opened up to you about my insecurities about using crutches, you immediately took advantage of that?” Paige laughed, but it was bitter and hollow because right now, nothing was funny.

“That wasn’t my intention at all. You can’t-”

“You know what?” Paige interrupted. “I can’t even be mad at you. This is what we agreed to after all. Fake dating. Nothing less, nothing more.” She laughed bitterly. “In fact, I should thank you for being the reasonable one. For not being stupid enough to get your feelings involved like I did.” Paige bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. “This was really a genius plan. Lugging the cripple around, getting her ice cream like she’s a poor child that needs to be saved. You’re smart, Fudd, I’ll give you that.” Paige hated it, the way Azzi was recoiling into herself because of her words, but she couldn’t think. She could only feel, and right now she was feeling a whole lot of hurt.

Leo nervously took ahold of Paige’s wheelchair.

“Paige, you don’t even know what you’re saying,” Azzi said. And apparently Paige was better at controlling her emotions than Azzi was, because Azzi was crying now, forcing words through her tears.

Paige cut her off again. “Save it.” She motioned for Leo to push, and they began heading in the opposite direction. “Don’t bother coming to my surgery.”

Paige hadn’t meant that. Oh god, she hadn’t meant that. They’d talked about her surgery just days earlier - Azzi had joked that she would fill up Paige’s entire apartment with stuffed animals to await her return; she’d joked that she’d show up to her hospital room from the first visiting hour and stay until the last, nagging and bothering Paige the entire time until Paige begged her to leave; she’d joked that she’d bring the biggest and brightest bouquet of flowers she could find so that she would outshine all the other measly attempts at flowers that people would bring. Paige had laughed, but in her head, she’d thought about how much she wouldn’t have minded if Azzi actually followed through with her words. About how the first face she wanted to see after her surgery was Azzi, and only Azzi. But she hadn’t said any of that, had instead giggled and swatted Azzi on the shoulder.

But now, the distance between them grew further and further, and it took Paige everything not to break apart right then and there.