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lovebugism · 2 years

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hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #st oneshots

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poseidons-lovechild · 5 months

Text

i just started to re-watch criminal minds.

my highlights of season 1 (spoiler warning ig)

aaron hotchner is so daddy

reid is so baby

gideon is so unhinged and crazy - and a dad

derek is just sooo cocky and it's so funny how he wears a suit in the first few episodes

the cuts and edits in s1 are peak cinema

elle my darling <3

god i missed the title music

why is gideon always talking to someone, then gets an idea and runs the other way w/o another word lol

"ocd? i'm thinking more like omg." hahhahahahah

reid and gideon playing chess aaaaah

the mandarine scene in ep5 lives in my mind rent free, so dad coded

how is it that i'm surprised everytime again when gideon starts yelling for help in ep7

hotch almost gets strangled and gideon looseness his tie and says "take your tie off for once in your life, huh?" dad energy.

gideon yelling at rats? lol

elle calling gideon dad!!!

"what kind of doctor are you?" harsh

"billie is running out of time, guys." "so are the parents." "oh, come on. a little hope, huh? we'll make it. we'll make it." i'm repeating myself: DAD ENERGY.

aaron hotchner in his vest? ouff. i'm sweating. and elle? oh lord.

"divorce is not uncommon in the bau." is that right, aaron?

"just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie." whoever said hotch doesn't have humor was blind.

love sassy hotch so much i'd fuck him senseless

"do i look twelve years old to you?" "fourteen." lol

"if i wasn't a lesbian i'd jump your bones. i've always had this thing for middle-aged men." relatable af

reid just called morgan a whore??

haley called gideon hotch's wife? i didn't remember that. also so passive-aggressive: if she's pissed by his job, she should just say so.

also hotch with baby on his arm? lord have merthy

elle speaking spanish: so hot

gideon imitating a russian accent: dad energy (i sound like a broken record)

i am convinced that david rossi taught gideon how to cook

i'll never understand why fisher king I is in s1 and fisher king II is in s2

i love that aaron is cleaning the blood of elle's walls

like always: stay away from white males in their early 20s to early 40s, don't go outside and keep your windows and doors locked.

#criminal minds #snax speaks #snax' cm rewatch

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clingtomefic · 4 months

Text

Billboard Top 100 Songs Of The 90's:

1- ONE SWEET DAY - Mariah Carey & Boyz II Men (95-96)

2- MACARENA - Los Del Rio (95 & 96)

3- I'LL MAKE LOVE TO YOU - Boyz II Men (94-95)

4- UN-BREAK MY HEART - Toni Braxton (96-97)

5- * CANDLE IN THE WIND 1997 / SOMETHING ABOUT

THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIGHT - Elton John (97-98)

6- END OF THE ROAD - Boyz II Men (92)

7- I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU - Whitney Houston (92-93)

8- THE BOY IS MINE - Brandy & Monica (98)

9- I SWEAR - All 4 One (94)

10- I'LL BE MISSING YOU - Puff Daddy, Faith Evans & 112 (97)

11- THE SIGN - Ace Of Base (94)

12- HOW DO I LIVE - LeAnn Rimes (97-98)

13- GANGSTA'S PARADISE - Coolio featuring L.V. (95-96)

14- ON BENDED KNEE - Boyz II Men (94-95)

15- FANTASY - Mariah Carey (95-96)

16- TOO CLOSE - Next (98)

17- THAT'S THE WAY LOVE GOES - Janet Jackson (93)

18- BECAUSE YOU LOVED ME - Celine Dion (96)

19- WATERFALLS - TLC (95)

20- DREAMLOVER - Mariah Carey (93)

21- CREEP - TLC (95)

22- CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE - UB40 (93)

23- JUMP - Kris Kross (92)

24- TAKE A BOW - Madonna (95)

25- THA CROSSROADS - Bone Thugs-N-Harmony (96)

26- THE FIRST NIGHT - Monica (98)

27- CAN'T NOBODY HOLD ME DOWN - Puff Daddy

& Mase (97)

28- INFORMER - Snow (93)

29- THIS IS HOW WE DO IT - Montell Jordan (95)

30- BABY GOT BACK - Sir Mix-A-Lot (92)

31- BELIEVE - Cher (99)

32- FREAK ME - Silk (93)

33- NO SCRUBS - TLC (99)

34- YOU'RE STILL THE ONE - Shania Twain (98)

35- WANNABE - Spice Girls (97)

36- NO DIGGITY - BLACKstreet & Dr. Dre (96-97)

37- (EVERYTHING I DO) I DO IT FOR YOU - Bryan Adams (91)

38- LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA - Ricky Martin (99)

39- BLACK OR WHITE - Michael Jackson (91-92)

40- I'D DO ANYTHING FOR LOVE (BUT I WON'T

DO THAT) - Meat Loaf (93-94)

41- • SMOOTH - Santana & Rob Thomas (99-00)

42- STAY (I MISSED YOU) - Lisa Loeb & Nine Stories (94)

43- GENIE IN A BOTTLE - Christina Aguilera (99)

44- WHOOMP! (THERE IT IS) - Tag Team (93-94)

45- YOU MAKE ME WANNA.... - Usher (97-98)

46- IF YOU HAD MY LOVE - Jennifer Lopez (99)

47- SAVE THE BEST FOR LAST - Vanessa Williams (92)

48- THE POWER OF LOVE - Celine Dion (94)

49- ALWAYS BE MY BABY - Mariah Carey (96)

50- I'M YOUR ANGEL - R. Kelly & Celine Dion (98-99)

51- ANOTHER NIGHT - Real McCoy (94-95)

52- EXHALE (SHOOP SHOOP) - Whitney Houston (95-96)

53- HERO - Mariah Carey (93-94)

54- HAVE YOU EVER REALLY LOVED

A WOMAN? - Bryan Adams (95)

55- BUMP N' GRIND - R. Kelly (94)

56- AGAIN - Janet Jackson (93-94)

57- MMMBOP - Hanson (97)

58- KISS FROM A ROSE - Seal (95)

59- WEAK - S W V (93)

60- NOBODY'S SUPPOSED TO BE HERE - Deborah Cox (98-99)

61- NOBODY KNOWS - Tony Rich Project (96)

62- ANGEL OF MINE - Monica (99)

63- TRULY MADLY DEEPLY - Savage Garden (98)

64- RUSH RUSH - Paula Abdul (91)

65- HERE COMES THE HOTSTEPPER - Ini Kamoze (94-95)

66- IF I EVER FALL IN LOVE - Shai (92-93)

67- * FOOLISH GAMES / YOU WERE MEANT FOR ME - Jewel (97)

68- * YOU'RE MAKIN' ME HIGH

/ LET IT FLOW - Toni Braxton (96-97)

69- ALL FOR LOVE - Bryan Adams, Rod Stewart, Sting (94)

70- ALL THAT SHE WANTS - Ace Of Base (93-94)

71- I LOVE YOU ALWAYS FOREVER - Donna Lewis (96-97)

72- BECAUSE I LOVE YOU (THE POSTMAN SONG) - Stevie B (90-91)

73- I DON'T WANT TO MISS A THING - Aerosmith (98)

74- TOGETHER AGAIN - Janet (98)

75- NICE & SLOW - Usher (98)

76- • UNPRETTY - TLC (99)

77- IT'S ALL COMING BACK TO ME NOW - Celine Dion (96-97)

78- ...BABY ONE MORE TIME - Britney Spears (99)

79- I'M TOO SEXY - Right Said Fred (92)

80- BABY-BABY-BABY - TLC (92)

81- MY WAY - Usher (98)

82- NOTHING COMPARES 2 U - Sinead O'Connor (90)

83- DON'T LET GO (LOVE) - En Vogue (97)

84- LATELY - Divine (98-99)

85- MO MONEY MO PROBLEMS - Notorious B.I.G.,

Puff Daddy & Mase (97-98)

86- QUIT PLAYING GAMES (WITH MY HEART) - Backstreet Boys (97-98)

87- I BELIEVE I CAN FLY - R. Kelly (97)

88- HYPNOTIZE - Notorious B.I.G. (97)

89- TWISTED - Keith Sweat (96-97)

90- TO BE WITH YOU - Mr. Big (92)

91- VISION OF LOVE - Mariah Carey (90)

92- RUMP SHAKER - Wreckx-N-Effect (92-93)

93- VOGUE - Madonna (90)

94- ALL 4 LOVE - Color Me Badd (91-92)

95- NUTHIN' BUT A "G" THANG - Dr. Dre (93)

96- I'LL BE THERE - Mariah Carey (92)

97- * HOW DO YOU WANT IT

/ CALIFORNIA LOVE - 2 Pac, K-Ci & JoJo (96)

98- ALL MY LIFE - K-Ci & JoJo (98)

99- MY ALL - Mariah Carey (98)

100- RETURN OF THE MACK - Mark Morrison (97)

#LET'S GO GIRLS

0 notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

long days for bad people

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~6k

Being a prized, adored possession was far better than you thought it would be.

warnings: light daddy kink (no age play, just the name in mostly jest), spit kink, crying kink, degradation, brief descriptions of blood + violence, kidnapping (consensual?? read a/n), brat taming, light sadomasochism, mind break, praise kink

------

here it is, mafia au, villain hawks, dom, brat tamer, soft(?!) hawks. what more could you want?

there’s briefly described kidnapping at the beginning of the fic but it is reiterated throughout that this is consensual! no yandere/stockholm stuff in this fic.

i’ve been working on this one for a while and i’m happy to finally share it. hope y’all enjoy!!

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You shouldn’t have fucked around with the League.

God, it was common knowledge in the parts of town and circles you inhabited. Of all criminal syndicates, mobs, to fuck with, the League wasn’t one of them. They were known for their complete cruelty and violent delights. The League had such a reputation due to the fact that they openly left bodies carved up and burnt as they pleased.

But, you were a fucking idiot and got involved anyways.

It was a small loan, Giran almost seemed to scoff when he gave you the cash. You and your almost-stranger of a roommate were just very late on some bills and were going to lose a lot of material items if you didn’t scrounge up at least two paychecks in about three days.

You swallowed your pride and took the first and easiest loan you could get. That just happened to be with gap-toothed, wide-grinning Giran of the League. He, you knew from what you’d heard, was somewhat fair in matters like yours.

You had two weeks to pay him back.

...

You didn’t make it in time.

You were close to the amount, notably. You scrounged and clawed your way into getting the cash back. You weren’t much of a pickpocket, but you snagged some odd jobs around the apartment building that you and your roommate were still fortunate enough to keep a room in.

After one particular job, a nasty carpentry gig that you weren’t qualified for, you returned home tired and worn.

Sure, you were a day late on payment. But with this last gig, you were so close. The League would have to pity two, stupid, stupid young girls?

They didn’t, you realized, as you stepped into your apartment.

Your roommate's slain corpse was laying over the arm of your cheap couch, eyes vacant and mouth dripping blood onto the old beige carpet.

You dropped to your knees, horrified and completely stunned.

“You should’ve known better,” it was a hum from across the room, from a figure you didn’t even know was in the room until then. “Really, you’d expect folks to be smarter.”

Your mouth dried as the figure moved from the nighttime shadows, flashing a dazzling smile and ruffling crimson wings.

Hawks.

You’d heard of him, everyone had. Terrifying, fast, precise, and cutthroat. He took orders and didn’t ask questions other than snark. He talked too much, fucked too much.

“W-wait,” You didn't know why you were pleading, but you had to try, right? “I’m so close, wait—”

Hawks sauntered up to you wielding one of his feather blades, the red of blood mixing with the filaments of his feathers.

He crouched down in front of you, tsking, “I don’t like begging, angel. I’ll make this quick for you. Your friend there?”

Hawks jerked his finger behind to your dead roommate.

“She fought, pleaded, begged, all that normal shit I don’t like hearing when shitheads like you two don’t make payday,” his voice was slow, talking about death like some casual thing. “I’ll make this nice and fast if you don’t run your mouth anymore, how about that?”

You swallowed, nodding.

The small percentage of your brain that was fully functioning figured dying quickly was a much better way to go than whatever the hell had happened to your roommate. There was far too much blood for that to be quick.

Hawks hummed, the tip of his feather blade tipping up your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. You vaguely heard the pitter-patter of your tears hitting the carpet below. Blood rushed in your ears as you stared death in the face.

Hawks appraised you.

You watched the metaphorical cogs and wheels turning in Hawks’ skull as he looked you up and down before flashing forward, gathering you in his arms and flying from the apartment.

Your first thought was obvious as you clung to him in the open air:

He’s going to drop you and kill you.

When you screamed, tears growing thicker, he slapped a gloved hand over your mouth, “I’m giving you an out, kid. Trust me. You’ll prefer this over death.”

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Your new existence was certainly better than death.

If you were ever caught and convicted of any of the illegal things you participated in, you’d be fucked, thrown into prison until you rotted, until you were just dust and bone.

But, until then, you worked for the League.

You had groveled at the feet of their leader, Shigaraki, hands clasped on your lap, claiming your worth, or maybe lack thereof. Not many attachments, not many people who’d miss you, a semi-useful quirk.

With a boot shoved into your skull, he sneered that you’d be the League’s new errand dog.

The real reason they accepted you was due to the threatening air Hawks was exuding and the fact that their old ‘errand bitch’ had died the week prior. They needed a new body to act as a civilian and do things that only an unsuspecting-looking ‘civilian’ could. You fit the bill, and Hawks had taken a liking to you.

Oddly, working for the League was actually pretty okay.

You got your own room. It was small, but you only had to share a bathroom with the somewhat unhinged Himiko, but she was fairly nice once she warmed up to you. Everyone lived in the League’s HQ and went about their business, getting drunk at their bar front each night.

Most of the mess happened at night, but it was important to put on a nice veneer and keep spirits high. Not to mention that no one would dared to fuck with the League, anyways. The cops and federal government had long been paid off due to the resources that the League had acquired for them.

You felt somewhat untouchable.

A lot of this confidence was due to the fact that you had become Hawks’s... Keigo’s...

‘Songbird’

As he liked to call you, anyway.

Keigo was the general, loveable annoyance of the League, but his connections were invaluable and his skills were unmatched. Despite how he could grate on people (read: Dabi and Shigaraki), he was respected and feared just as much as everyone else was, if not more so. And being his metaphorical and literal pet had its perks.

Sure, the first time he had you come to his ‘office’ and he fucked you against the window until it was smeared with cum and blood was a bit surprising, but god, if you didn’t fucking love it. Being Keigo’s personal fucktoy came with protection, pleasure, and a surprising amount of genuine attention. The dude was lonely, and so were you. The two of you made a good ‘couple’, if you could even call yourselves that. The sadism he doled out was always counterpointed by affections that did seem genuine.

Keigo was fond of you, and you of him. Maybe your brush with death had twisted something in your head, to even allow yourself to get close to a man like Keigo, but you couldn’t make yourself care.

You were comfortable and content.

...

[bird boss]: hey babe ;^) get to my office in the next thirty minutes

[you]: what if i don’t

[bird boss]: do u really want to find out

[you]: ...

[you]: im just curious

[bird boss]: don’t get cheeky songbird

[you]: u make me wanna u know

[you]: i know it gets you riled up

[bird boss]: tread lightly kid

[you]: oooo i gave you some guff over text

[you]: what’re you gonna do about it?

[bird boss]: use your imagination

[bird boss]: 25 minutes now, songbird

[bird boss]: don’t make this worse for yourself <3

You set your phone on your cheap duvet, quickly primped yourself to see Keigo. He wasn’t too strict about your appearance but wearing dark clothes and some of the more expensive gifts he’d gotten you over the months he’d been screwing you never hurt. Something about ownership with him always got him hot and bothered.

You tried to remind yourself frequently that Keigo saw you as some sort of possession, but a possession with feelings.

Meandering through HQ was always a bit daunting, despite your protections. Your skimpy outfit choice and hardly-hidden lingerie made you feel a bit more like an object than you liked too.

There were hardly hungry mouths around the League, they kept you all fed, but god, were there starving eyes.

Dabi wolf-whistled as you walked past him through a common room, shouting something about how Keigo was collecting his pound of flesh for the day. Maybe a line or two about being a whore, but that was all flavor at that point. Keigo called you far meaner, more sinful things. And hell, it wasn’t like Keigo hadn’t... shared you on more than one occasion.

Maybe you were a little fucked up for enjoying your lifestyle to the degree you did, but why not indulge where you could? Life was far shittier scraping paint off old fences and picking up cans to just scrape by.

Opulence was a breath of fresh air. And if you were Keigo’s fuck toy? Then, god, you were Keigo’s fuck toy.

When you arrived at Keigo’s office, you knocked gently on the door, quickly adjusting your skirt and blouse.

The door opened, though no one was behind it. Only a single one of Keigo’s feathers allowed you entrance.

His office seemed daunting and extravagant for a man who did most of his ‘work’ in far-shadier, far-bloodier places. The walls were covered in mirrors and old paintings, something out of vanity and pride, knowing how Keigo saw himself. There were several black leather couches scattered around against walls, some stained by your various... activities. There was a broad desk parallel to a back wall made entirely of windows.

Night had fallen, leaving the room lit by a few lamps and warm fixtures.

“Hey, boss,” You hummed as you stepped in, shutting the door behind you just before the lingering scarlet feather flicked the lock on the door.

And the other one.

And the deadbolt.

You swallowed thickly.

As much as you enjoyed a lot of the perks of your... position, it was also daunting.

Keigo was daunting, all bloody colors, vanity, and hunger.

He sat behind his desk, wings puffed up, and partially extended over the back of his chair. The desk chair was massive, specifically acquired so that you would have enough room to properly straddle his lap for hours on end if he so wished.

Keigo idly clicked around on his desktop computer. He leaned slack and back into the chair, legs spread wide and exuding casual confidence that reeked of his own ego.

Keigo normally wore a mix of black and red, as edgy as it was. He liked to seem clean, hide the stains of sanguine that undoubtedly lingered on him no matter how he tried to cleanse himself. His black slacks were pressed, the seams pristine. The black shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows, the buttons of his red vest undone as well. His black tie hung half-undone and limp around his neck. His tousled gold hair was mussed as normal, ruffled by his flights. His feathers might’ve needed preening, but you doubted that that was the reason he called you to his office.

And based on the deep set of his brow and the sickly smile on his lips, he was already on edge and in a mood.

“Songbird, come over here, will you?” Keigo sat back from his typing, watching you from across the room. He took you in the same way a parched man sucks down red wine, greedily and soon to be fucked. “On my lap.”

You complied, despite your earlier attitude. You padded across the room, going around his desk.

As you moved to straddle his lap, worn hands gripped your waist. His amber eyes gave you a warning, crinkling at the edges, “Not like that, sweetheart. Do daddy right.”

Oh, so it was one of those moods.

Maybe you were Keigo’s sexual punching bag so he could exert control on something he could later kiss better and patch up.

Sure, he was going to fucking ruin you, but part of the fun with him was that the more it hurt, the nicer he was after. And, all things considered, with some of the... other folks the League brought in to satiate its member’s desires, you fared far better. Keigo cared about you, in his own particular way.

You tried to lean over his lap yourself, but his hands and feathers positioned you perfectly as he wanted. With the tight grip he had on your waist and shoulders, dragging you just as he liked, it was easy to see his need for control.

Your head hung off of one of his thighs as you squirmed in his lap. His bulge already pressed into your ribs, a wonderful reminder of the reward you’d reap later on. Keigo’s hands gathered your hand to the small of your back, a feather replacing their grip a moment later.

“Sit with me while I finish this shit,” Keigo grumbled, going back to clicking the desktop. His leg bobbed absentmindedly, his free hand rubbing over the curve of your barely-covered ass. “Be a good girl, (Y/N). If you can stand that.”

He laughed under his breath.

You let your head dangle limply downwards, blood rushing to your cheeks.

You’d thought you’d be in for more of an ass-kicking, but it appeared Keigo was taking things unusually slow. You knew better than to complain, but kicking up a bit of metaphorical sand couldn’t be that bad, right?

“I dunno,” You hummed, kicking your legs lightly. “I don’t think you like it when I’m a ‘good girl’, daddy.”

“Watch it.” A single, sharp smack to your butt was hardly enough to shut you up, but Keigo did so all the same, rubbing over the covered flesh a moment later, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you sure about that?” You wriggled, intentionally pushing up against his growing erection.

His breath stuttered, a smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. The hand on your ass didn’t rear again, rather Keigo kept thumbing smooth circles as he continued to click around on the computer. He might have been actually doing work. Or, he was ignoring you, egging your sass on.

“If you didn’t want anything, why’d you call me in here?” You asked, way too cheeky for the way Keigo’s body was practically vibrating underneath you. Pissing him off had consequences, of course, but you weren’t in the mood to play ‘good girl’ that day.

“I told you, I want you to sit with me,” Keigo pinched your ass. “But, you’re too mouthy to do just that one thing. You’re usually better than this.”

“Am I?” You played innocent, craning to give him a wide smile. “Hadn’t noticed. What I am noticing, is your already-hard cock, dear.”

“Oh, ‘dear’?!” Keigo paused on the computer. “Cheeky. Cute.”

Keigo would just dig in more, lean in, before ‘snapping’, if you could call it that.

You gulped as his hand swatted at upper thighs, his nails almost knicking your skin.

“Up and don’t get smart about it.”

Oh, you were going to be remarkably smart about it.

You rose but hardly stayed upright for long. Sliding down to your knees, you pushed at Keigo’s legs, “Wouldn’t you prefer me down here? Just for a treat while you finish your work?”

Keigo clicked his tongue, gaze flickering down to you, “Fine. Behave yourself.”

Yeah, right. You both knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

You were already tucked underneath his desk, undoing the fly of his pants.

You pulled his cock from his trousers, pumping his cock to full hardness. Smearing around preek for a bit of extra flare before inching forward.

Wrapping your mouth around Keigo’s dick was somewhat of a feat— he had a decent girth to him, so you usually took the opportunity to warm him (and yourself) up with a bit of tip-kissing and kitten licks.

But, you were feeling bold.

You spit on his dick, a move that normally would have earned you plenty of verbal snark, but anything Keigo could’ve said to you was swallowed as you took his cock down to the back of your throat.

You sucked around it, massaging the vein on the bottom with the flat of your tongue. Drool began to pool at the side of your lips as you let the head bump your throat, gag reflex be damned.

All the while, Keigo had stopped moving above you. The fabric of his trouser balled up in his ringed-fingers as he gazed half-lidded down at you.

You smiled around his dick, looking up at him innocently as you began to slowly bob your head. His wings fluttered, twitches and air stirring around you.

Keigo stifled a laugh, a hand tangling in your hair, “All that talk earlier and now you’re treating me to a blowjob without even me having to tell you to? Dove, you’re too much.”

You pulled off of him to reply, “I can only try.”

Before he could reply, you spit on his dick again, and went back to slurping around him.

You held the base of his cock in your hands, twisting and spreading spittle. It almost felt like your actions were for show, but Keigo’s eyes were rolling back in his head all the same.

You smirked.

A drool pool from your mouth, puddling in your lap and soaking your skirt. Not like you weren’t already dripping from the sinful sounds Keigo stopped trying to hold.

“A-ah, that’s it, angel,” Keigo fucked into your mouth with his hold on your hair. “Just like that.”

Your hand rose to play with Keigo’s balls, teasing at the sack as he cried out a high moan above you.

Considering the performance you were giving, it was unsurprising to feel him tensing above you. You’d been on your knees for him hundreds of times; you’d learned to see the little twitches and puffs of breath he’d give when he’d get close to coming.

You pulled off his cock with a pop, detangling the hand from your hair in the motion. It was all fast enough that Keigo couldn’t have stopped you in his hazy, pleasure-filled state.

Based on the look of rapid disbelief he was giving you, your trick had worked well. Knowing Keigo’s... tendencies made you hesitant to push him too much in the past, but for whatever reason, you were feeling stupidly bold.

Consequences.

“Sorry, daddy,” You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand. “Didn’t feel like swallowing today.”

Keigo’s disheveled appearance was more than gratifying. Knowing how easily you made him come undone by that point was one of the perks of your position.

His hair was more than ruffled, strands and tufts chaotically curled around his cheeks and ears. There was a bright blush on his face, spreading from his nose to the apples of his cheeks, down his deck. At some point, he’d popped the buttons at the top of his shirt. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, half-panting and based on the darkness in his brow and the far-too peachy smile on his face, Keigo was fucking pissed.

His wings stood on end.

You gulped from below him.

Maybe you pushed your luck too far.

Maybe.

“You’re playing real cute today, aren’t you songbird?” Keigo didn’t move, but his feathers twitched above him, wings flaring out even farther. “Real fucking cute.”

You were fucked.

Good.

A few feathers flew from Keigo, one snagging at your wrist, wrapping around it, and pulling you up from the desk.

You wobbled as you stood, dragged across the room as Keigo leisurely followed behind you. When you tried to set your own pace, Keigo swatted your ass with a huff, “You never learn, huh? I thought I’d trained you better than this.”

You opened your mouth to spit some dickish retort, but you were cut off as Keigo’s shoved you onto one of the leather couches.

“Don’t.” Keigo’s tone was acidic as he stood over your, wings still flared out. “I told you I wasn’t in the mood for your cute bullshit, dove, and you still decided to test your luck, huh?”

You kneeled on the cushions, sucking down air, shaking with anticipation.

“You don’t feel like swallowing today? That’s fine, I can work with that,” Keigo shrugged easily from above you.

Keigo had an... active sexual imagination, and you could tell by the crook in his lips that he had something devilish planned as retribution.

A sharp slap came down on your cheek, Keigo catching the opposite jaw and keeping you from recoiling too far. You blinked as the pain spread around your skull like licking flames against a frostbitten body.

You wanted more.

A little grin stretched against your mouth as Keigo rubbed at your cheeks with his thumbs, “Aw, you always get so sweet like this, dove. You can be a good girl if you try, can’t you?”

His actions carried candor and his words absolute torment.

Despite how Keigo was trying to goad you into submission, you had a bit of spark left in you.

Plainly, you spit on him.

The glob of saliva landed on Keigo’s cheek, under his eye.

He blinked at you.

You continued to smile.

His own expression grew strained.

“Oh, songbird,” Keigo damn near lamented, wiping away the kind gift you’d given him. His voice was smooth without any bit of waver, all of the sexually-charged anger rolling just beneath the veneer. “You’re just being pain slut today, aren’t you?”

You were, absolutely. You could feel your arousal wetting your panties, the heat of the strike from your cheek beginning to boil something in your gut.

“You just need a bit of special attention today, right? That’s all.” Keigo tsked, fully removing the tie from around his neck. “You just need a little reminder.”

“Reminder of what?” You asked, tilting your head quizzically.

Keigo flipped you, feathers pushing and bracing you as needed while nimble hands tore off your clothes without reverie.

“Plenty of things, especially with this attitude you’ve got today,” Keigo’s tie looped around your wrists, binding them together at the center of your back.

“You definitely need a reminder of who’s the boss around here,” Keigo shoved you forward, stomach flush with the back of the couch.

You reeled from the pace of it all, shifting your knees for any bit of stimulation you could get. Keigo’s feathers were slicing and pulling your clothes from your body faster than you could keep track of. It was overwhelming, making your mind swim in the best possible way. You throbbed.

“Maybe a reminder about who fucking provides for you,” Keigo’s own clothes were shaken off, dropped to the floor and forgotten.

It was true. Keigo always made sure than you were taken care of, in more ways than one. Despite how fast-paced and laid back he could seem, he was always on top of making sure you had more than enough material and immaterial pleasure whether than be in the form of food, fucking, or otherwise.

You yelped as a smack fell across your ass. A feather caught the elastic of your panties, snapping a moment later, leaving you fully bare before him.

Keigo’s worn hand came to press at your throat and jaw, tilting your head back as he climbed behind you, “Maybe, you need a reminder about who keeps you safe.”

This phrase was softer than the others, a sweet kiss pressing to your cheek and his voice a bit more gentle. It was jarring at the skin still stung from his earlier strike, but you cherished the heat besides.

Once again, true. The folks in and outside of the League were greedy. There were plenty of unwanted souls that stole glances at Hawks’s prized songbird. There were starved eyes that tore into you whether you were dolled up for Keigo or not. There had been some... close calls, one could say, but Keigo always was there, in the end, unafraid to get his hands dirty.

“You know what the most important reminder is, dove?” Keigo rolled his hips against you, cock wedging between your thighs.

“N-no,” You stuttered, brain turning gooey as Keigo’s arms snaked around your waist, sharpened nails leaving indents in your hips.

He nosed at your neck, leaving a few love bites in his wake.“‘N-no’, what?”

“I don’t know,” You leaned back into Keigo’s chest, rubbing your thighs around his cock.

“Oh, songbird, you sweet thing,” He chuckled, all teasing and self-indulgent. “I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

He was so right, wasn’t he?

With the way he’d learned your body over the last few months, he’d had some undeniable pursuit to make you feel the best.

Keigo was inquisitive by nature. He had kept you on your back for hours while he finger-fucked you, watching every twitch and roll of your hips to figure out just the right ways to break you. He’d kissed and sucked and slapped every inch of you, sussing out the perfect ways to make you writhe and cry for him.

Sure, you were an absolute terror to him sometimes. Not to mention that Keigo jumping you covered in the blood of that day's targets was as macabre and horrifying as it sounded.

But, fuck, if he didn’t know how to bring you to ecstasy that fucking ruined you in the best way.

Keigo got off on watching you shatter for him. It was the reason he’d torn you from that cheap, bloodied apartment in the first place. A kind, naive little morsel that he could play with as he wanted. You didn’t complain. Fuck, you reveled in his attention. You gave it back to him, like the fucked up, semi-divine being could be any more debauched than he already was.

Corruption spreads, but you’d never complain. If being plucked from struggling for pennies to being fucked stupid by a man who could kill you at a moments notice, a man who would kill for you, somehow poisoned you?

You’d die with a bitter taste on your tongue and a smile on your face.

Keigo rubbed at your clit, nipping at your neck, and rolled his hips greedily. His cock was covered in a mix of your slick and his own preek, easily sliding between plushness of your thighs.

“You love pushing me, acting all tough,” Keigo chastised, clicking his tongue. “I mean it when I say it's cute.”

You don’t have any more quick retorts in you, not when his fingers are down your throat, gagging you as spittle dribbles down your chin onto the leather below. It was sure to leave a mark.

“Behind all that bark and snark, you’re just a good girl, aren’t you?” Keigo punctuated his words with a bite and nip to your neck. “Just needed a reminder, right, dove?”

You whimpered against his fingers at the praise, grinding against Keigo’s touch needily.

His fingers pushed pinched your tongue, breath curling over the shell of your ear, “What are you?”

You mumbled against his fingers, “A g-good g-girl.”

It was humiliating in the best way. Keigo’s light laugh at your attempt. The way he nuzzled his nose into the sweat at the crook of your shoulder was just aloe on the burn.

“I misspoke, if you can believe that,” Keigo’s cock pulled out from your thighs. “Songbird, you know what I meant to call you?”

You squirmed at the loss, but he was quick to hush you. His fingers left your mouth with a thick trail of spit.

“You’re my good girl.”

You melted in his arms.

Falling back against Keigo’s chest, you craned your neck to lock your lips to his.

Maybe that was it, why all the filth didn’t bother you. Because you had worth. Maybe it was insecurity, or maybe it was self-aware in the face of your lived experience. Before being taken, the life you’d lived made you just a rusty cog in a dying machine. You wouldn’t have amounted to anything, probably.

But with the League?

You were the prized, beloved consort of an angry god.

Keigo owned you, body, mind and soul, and you let him. That’s not even to mention how you had him wrapped around your finger. He adored you, under all of it.

Fighting with him was for sport, not blood.

Keigo licked past your lips, pressing his cock to your cunt teasingly. You whined against him, wriggling in his arms.

“What does my good girl want?” Keigo loved making you beg for him, claw for any bit of stimulation. He liked it even better when you were already soft for him.

Stray tears pricked at your eyes, “Y-your cock.”

He pinched the meat of your thigh, shaking his head, “Not good enough. Speak properly, dove. Clear and correctly.”

You swallowed, searching for the words in your own haze.

Your words were willed to be solid.

“I want your cock, daddy.”

It was just enough.

Keigo pushed forward, the head of his cock already stretching your cunt. Consider the girth of it, the lack of preparation stung and burned more than you would’ve liked, as good as it felt to finally be filled.

Keigo cooed at your soft tears, keeping your face to his with a firm hand on your jaw. He shushed you, far too sweetly while licking the salt from your cheeks, “Relax, angel. Big breaths.”

You nodded, sputtering as he speared into you. Keigo’s free hand went back to toying with your clit, encouraging the tension to drain from your body.

As he bottomed out, you shuddered, falling back into his chest. Keigo’s wings fluttered, twitching in wait. Hot breath fanned over your face, Keigo groaning and locking his jaw.

The stimulation was overwhelming. You had expected Keigo to be meaner, considering how mouthy you’d been.

Yet, it made sense. Keigo had figured out one of the better ways to make you break was softness.

(Truthfully, it made him crack in the same way, but he’d never tell.)

“Feel that?” He asked, just barely rolling his hips.

Keigo released your jaw in favor of wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, tugging you as close he could manage.

“Uh-huh,” You panted.

You could, the kiss of his cock head against your cervix was almost uncomfortable. The delicious pressure and sensitivity already had you reeling in his arms, unsteady and wanting.

“I fill you up so good, don’t I?” Keigo praised his own ego, his cock, but he wasn’t wrong. The curve of his cock rubbed against all the right spots. He stretched you just right, the burn ebbing away into a need for more, more—

“Please, Keigo—” You gasped. Your legs shook as Keigo slammed into you, shoving you forward and into the wall.

His pace was brutal. Hands and feathers kept your back in a harsh arch as he rearranged your insides to his liking. He was kind enough to keep stroking at your clit, bruising your hips and babbling filthy nothings.

“I’m the one who makes you feel this good, only me, right, dove?” Keigo growled into your ear with a particularly hard thrust.

You nodded against the wall, aware of the drool slipping down your chin as your mouth lolled open. Your insides were hot like white flames, searing any ability to use coherent speech.

Keigo snickered at your state. Slowing, he gripped your ass cheeks. You yelped, inside jumping as he pried them apart. You flinched, hole twitching as he spat down, the liquid cool against the flushed skin.

It was little moves like that, Keigo just subtly making your shudder and feel dirty that got you the most fucked up and fucked out.

You pressed back on his cock, panting against the wall and keening. You would’ve spoke, if you could, but anything that you had the ability to say would’ve been torn apart by Keigo’s sharpened, silver tongue.

“My filthy little dove, huh?” Keigo sneered, watching you try to bounce on his cock the best you could. “Such a glutton when you get broken down like this, needy whore.”

The pleasure of Keigo’s cock tearing up your insides was all you could focus on through the fog of your mind, desperate and wanting and greedy.

“Y-your,” You corrected, the words bubbling from your lips, disjointed and messy. “Yours.”

Keigo may have been avian, but he purred like a damn cat at your admission. He held you like a possession, cock throbbing as he fucked you just right.

“God, you’re sweet, angel,” He nipped at your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. “Even all fucked up, you know who you belong to so well, don’t you?”

You nodded, rolling your hips back.

Keigo must’ve taken pity on you, squeezing at the sides of your neck. Cruel as he could be, he must’ve noticed the way your thighs and knees trembled against the leather. Keigo knew the cloud in your eyes well— how to get you hazy and how to fuck you perfectly through the fog.

He fucked back into your dripping cunt, pace harder and faster than before. You were helpless to do anything other than fall forward into the wall, cheek squished against the scarlet.

“Who’s brat are you?” Keigo squeezed a bit harder at your neck as you swallowed against his palm.

“Y-yours—!” You squeaked out, mind going numb from the stimulation and pressure.

A wicked sneer curled against your ear as Keigo’s movements grew sloppier. His tongue lolled over your shoulder, messy kisses and slobbery bites and marks left in his wake. He was close, but you weren’t far off easier.

“Little bird,” It was sweeter, closer and hotter. “Can you come for me? Come all over my cock?”

You nodded.

“Not good enough.” Keigo bit down, nearly breaking the fragile skin of your neck. “You know I like words, angel.”

You gave him words, plenty of them.

Nearly incoherent pleads and cries poured from your bruised lips as Keigo pounded into you. Each blabbering wail was met with Keigo groans and grunts, condescending little phrases spitting over you without release.

Your lack of leverage and use of your arms made you thumping against the couch and wall, vision darkening on the edges as the pressure in your gut and the hold on your throat remained.

You were breaking in his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as you held yourself from cresting. The exertion of it all was taking its toll, legs jellied and chest beading with sweat.

Keigo sensed it, shifting his hips to hit the spongy spot in your cunt, “Come, dove.”

You let go.

A sob shattered in your throat as your climax crashed through you. Keigo released your throat, holding you by your bound arms as he bottomed out. His own harsh cry panged against yours as he stuffed you full.

Surprisingly gently, he rocked his hips against your own, letting the ambient throb of your cunt milk him dry.

You came down, rolling and spinning as you sucked down air a bit too fast. Keigo panted behind you, though the sound seemed dull.

The pressure from your wrists released, soft thumbs rubbing at where the fabric had bitten into your forearms, “Hey, angel, you with me?”

You could only nod weakly, exhaustion and aches creeping in.

Keigo repositioned the two of you, setting himself against the arm of the couch, wings up free to drape and splay over the floor. He dragged you with him, pulling you to lay on his chest. The stickiness of his spunk, your slick, and general sweatiness might’ve been uncomfortable, but you weren’t quite lucid enough to care.

“How are you feeling? Still feeling a little mouthy?” Keigo teased, already knowing your answer.

You muffled a groan against his chest, shaking your head against the sweat of his chest.

“Awww,” Keigo chuckled, fingers brushing over your cheeks, “Is my dove a little fucked out?”

“Keeeigo, b-be nice.”

Your voice broke, parched.

Keigo snorted, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, “I guess I can manage that. Just for you, though. Can’t let the others see me get all soft.”

You wouldn’t; seeing Keigo warm and gooey, both of you mutually fucked-out, was a pleasure only you got to indulge in. And you loved every moment of it.

++++++++++++

taglist: @sinclairsamess (msg me if you’d like to be on it!)

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks #hawks smut #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo smut

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absolutebl · 3 years

Text

This Week In BL

April 2021 Part 5

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Close Friend Ep 2 (JaFirst) - First is a cat. No actually a cat. It was WEIRD. Cute, but creeping towards beastiality. It reminded me of that strange series out of China (@heretherebedork says Youth in the Breeze). The most amusing thing to me was that the cat used Thai formal linguistic register when of course cats would use informal rude guu mueng with EVERYONE. No cat would use pom. Don’t be ridiculous, Thailand.

Second Chance Ep 5 - still invested, things progressed for all 3 couples, in one direction or another. They cuties. I love them. Carry on.

Y-Destiny Ep 5 - the “virgin scoreboard” is gonna make the seme real hard to redeem with this pairing. If they bother. This might be a life lesson episode. What does it remind me of? Oh yes. Kids. *SHUDDER* Point of interest: did you notice Team uses ha with Mon? What a pushy flirt.

Lovely Writer Ep 10 - honestly I just love it when Poppy shows up in anything, why is he such a delightful screen presence? (Gene’s brother) Sorry, distracted. What happened in this one? Oh, ya know, stuff and things. Family drama. (It is just me or have they been giving us some long ass episodes lately?) Obligatory beach trip activated. (Result = dumb probability mathematics jokes.) Next week it looks like we have Keeping Actor’s Closeted 101. You know the Casting Couch? This is the Casting Closet.

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 4 - early stage confession, how fun. It’s not unprecedented it just usually means we are in 4 act structure, not 3, which means Fish might go more serious than I thought. Honestly? I’m losing interest mostly because I’ve gone from mild annoyance to active dislike of Pi. Happened to me with Tine too. They better redeem this obtuse tsundere uke soon or he’s not tsundere at all he’s just a jackwit.

Brothers Ep 13 fin - a kiss and the family finds out about the not-so-brotherly brothers, drama, graduation, THE END. My side-dish happy heart made thumps over Q + delivery boy, I’m sad they got so little screen time. My babies KhunKaow did get a tiny coming out sequence as such. I’m seriously considering doing myself a bootleg of just the KhunKaow plot, but that means I’d have to rewatch the whole darn series and I can’t STAND the idea. Which should give you insight into how not good this show it. Very NOT good. Must we get a season 2? Please stop now, Line.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 7 - Muren is the cutest peanut and anyone who says otherwise can fight me, although they probably have to go through Licheng first. I was NOT invested in these two at the beginning, but as a couple? They own my soul. The other storyline is still the dumpster fire that I can’t decide to roast marshmallows over (knowing they’ll get tinged with eu de trash) or flee from in horror clutching my pearls and my nose. H4 continues to provide the quality psyche torture I’ve come to expect from this franchise. *sarcastic thumbs up* *** A word on seeing Boxiang show up (side dish from H3:MODC). It was an unexpected pleasure, I loved his pairing (May/December is a winner for me *glares at Method*) but I do think it was a bone from the franchise telling us that we are never getting that spin-off or reboot that people yearn for. However, how AWESOME that Licheng has someone to go to and ask about topping properly. Otherwise he’s sure to have screwed it up. (Pun intended.)

Papa & Daddy (Tailwan) Ep 1-2 - this came out of nowhere and is ADORABLE. Applies a ton of BL tropes (cheek kiss, his closet, B&W stripes, drag baby around, boop) but what IS it? More slice of gay domesticity than romance. Like 2019′s Kinou Nani Tabeta? or currently airing Close Friend. I enjoy this style, very wholesome, but I’m not sure what to call it. (Bonus points for cutie lesbians.) A bit weird to have a kid with your partner and STILL not be out to your parents. I hope they aren’t going to throw in a break up for dramatic effect.

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 4 - I’m really enjoying this series. It’s unabashedly queer, although there’s some problematic stuff lurking under the wig. How it ends is gonna dictate if they handled this stylishly. But hot damn the leads ZING on screen together and their crackling prank-flirting is a joy to watch.

Word of Honor (China) Ep 31-33 - moving into the home stretch. Big rescue and the band is back together (presumably for the final slaughter). Then a death! *this is my shocked face* Did I tear up? Of course I did. 4 act structure is designed for maximum pathos during the final 1/4. Did we all faint from the symbolism of the love token hair stick being gently thrust into Ah Xu’s bun? Sure we did. All that and sill I’m flagging. This is a long-arse show. Save me, Korea, with your iItsy bitsy teenie weenie...

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 5-6 - I am getting such strong 12th Night vibes from this. Tae Hyung is now brigadier of BL’s historical himbo brigade. (To be deployed whenever you are in need of poetry or a cut sleeve.) This show is all ridiculous charm and I LOVE it. Although, five seconds of Lee Sang is not enough Lee Sang. I had to immediately rewatch Wish You.

Gossip

Nitiman gave us an actor intro BTS teaser.

Kang In Soo (AKA Kyang Insoo) posted a cute behind the photo shoot of Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding plus a silly interview with Jang Eui Soo on his YouTube channel (you should subscribe, it’s a fun channel, his fitness regime is both insane and inspiring).

My Engineer 2 dropped a couch interview with the boys but it feels like one that was filmed a while ago (oh and no subs).

STARTING SOON: Nitiman, Love Area, Top Secret Together, Be Loved in House, & I Promised You The Moon

Nitiman (Thai) May 7, One 31. University set, moons, engineering students, enemies to lovers, adapted. - Looks to be a solid 2 Moons knock off, I’m in.

Love Area (Thai) May 8, AIS Play, 10 eps total. Restaurant set, stars Pak Chavitpong (the only good thing about Cupid Coach) and the OST is sung by Jeff Satur (Ingredients). - It’s boys in love revolving around food = my kryptonite, try to stop me from watching this probable trash.

Top Secret Together (Thai) May 14, Line TV. 5 couples, one IRL (Newyear from I Am Your King), story arcs revolve around secrets. - I’m getting fatigued by these multi-couple sampler pack dramas, but I’ll try it for Newyear’s sake.

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan YES!) May 20, Viki. Office set, relationships prohibited at work by a new boss, one of the employees is determined to figure out why. Grumpy/tsundere pairing so loads of drama. - I am so flipping excited for this one. A 4th BL series from Taiwan in less than a year? That’s unprecedented. GO BABY ISLAND GO!

I Promised You the Moon (Thai) May 27, Line TV. Follow up to I Told Sunset About You with the boys now at university. - I won’t be watching this as I have yet to finish season 1.

Possibly Gameboys season 2. - Rumors are all over the place right now on this.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

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cultgambles · 4 years

Text

Forgotten Lunch (Jumin Han x Reader)

This was originally posted as a little blurb but why the hell not put the whole thing am i rite?? Like, i wasn’t sure if tumblr would take it down bc of the whole ban, but the other writings have been up haha

Summary: Jumin thinks his MC comes to the office for a little chat, but MC has other plans...

n s f w, office (semi-public), being walked in on, bjs, vaginal fingering

wc: 2.1k

Masterlist | Requests? open

“Oh! MC! What a pleasant surprise! How are you doing today?”

“I’m wonderful Jaehee, hope Jumin isn’t working you to the bone too much?” you reply to the secretary with a small smile.

“Same old same old,” Jaeehee sighs. “Is that lunch for him? He’s free right now if you would like to go up.”

“Aww, I’ll tell him to chill a bit, okay? Maybe he’ll listen this time. And I have one for you, too. Don’t eat those bento boxes all the time, they’re not the healthiest,” you chide, reaching into your bag and pulling out some pasta you had made. Jaehee takes the meal graciously and tells you she has to go back to work otherwise she’d work more overtime than usual.

The walk to the elevator and the ride up seemed to take a millennium, and when the final ding rang, you practically jumped out and ran to his office at the end of the hallway.

You try to stifle your smile, breathing a deep breath and knocking twice on the door.

“Come in,” Jumin’s muffled voice wafts through the door. He looks up slightly, his eyes brightening when he sees you.

“My love, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he says, starting to stand.

“Don’t worry! You just stay right there, I’ve only come to bring you some lunch. I made Alfredo,” You smile, closing the door behind you.

“MC, you didn’t have to make me anything. I have those private chefs you know.”

“I thought it would be cute to bring you some food!” you pout, making your way around the desk after placing the thermos down. You lean forward behind him, running your hands down his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. You swear Jumin purrs before clearing his throat, and patting his leg for you to sit. You do, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck, leaning in to pepper kisses on his face. He pulls you flush against his body, and you trade kisses for a while. You sigh, leaning in the crook of his neck.

“Oh, how I wish to abandon everything right now,” he sighs softly, pressing the words into your neck.

“Why can’t you? Let’s just go home and relax...but also let Jaehee have the rest of the day off too?” You say with an afterthought.

“You know I can’t, kitten.”

“Fineeee, I’ll leave you be then,” You swing one leg over his, appearing to get off, but you plop your ass right back down, basically straddling his leg, and take notice of his computer screen. “Oooh, what are you working on?”

“Just some of the new products I want to export. Though, I am having to fight with my father about it because he just doesn’t think cat products would sell,” he replies, sucking in a breath of air. “What do you think you are doing?” he asks, strained as you slightly rock back and forth to get into a more comfortable position. His large hand finds purchase on your hip, sending tingles throughout your body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. That’s a lie though. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re grinding your hips into his leg, dry humping him. The friction of your sliding back and forth makes you let out a small moan at how good it feels.

Jumin swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “So, this is the game you want to play? Let’s see it through then,” he mumbles lowly, leaning his head on his other hand. You lean forward to place your hands on his desk, moving more furiously against his leg, your body finally getting that friction it craved from when he touched you this morning. The feel of your panties against his pant leg rub together deliciously, and you’re tempted to hike up your yellow sundress to feel more of it.

“O-oh! Jumin,” you moan out, rolling your hips more deeply, feeling that sensation in your belly. His hand on your hip never leaves you, almost guiding you to your finish. The knot unravels, bursting through your body and clouding your senses. You shudder, feeling the waves of pleasure die down. You lean back against him, panting slightly. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Have fun there, sweetheart?” His voice is pretty stable for what you just did, but you definitely feel something poking your lower back.

“Mmm, yeah!” You say with a smile, getting up on shaky legs. “Well, I’m gonna go home and you finish up your work, okay?”

Before you can get very far, however, he catches your wrist and pulls you back onto his lap.

“You’re very naughty today, aren’t you? Did you want to be punished by daddy that badly?” Jumin says, running a hand down your stomach while the other holds your breast.

“I just missed you, s’all…” your voice goes up an octave as he bites your sweet spot.

“Well, we’re going to finish what you started then. Lucky for you, you came at the beginning of my lunch break, hmm?”

“Y-yes.”

“Did you plan that?”

“Maybe,” you say slyly.

“Really?” His hand stops just above the hem of your dress, just barely ghosting over your thigh.

“I planned it, you got me,” you whine, grinding your butt down.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks, pulling your dress up so the lower half of you is exposed. “You’re even wearing the lace red panties I like.”

“Yeah, so don’t rip them this time,” you quip, reaching behind to palm at his dick through his pants.

“I have all the money in the world to get you a new pair.” he rubs two fingers at your clit through the fabric. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

“Jumin?” you squeak out.

“Yes?”

“Why is it a pair of panties even though it’s like one item?”

“Love, you say the most unsexy things at the worst times,” he chuckles, “but I think it’s because of the two leg holes.”

“Mmm, m-makes sense,” you stutter out as his fingers finally slip between the fabric and into your folds.

“I’m taking off the fucking dress,” you say reaching for the zipper. For the moment, Jumin doesn’t hesitate to throw it over you and into a corner of the room. You also reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing that somewhere too.

“You like being exposed like this don’t you? Someone could walk in right now and that’d get you off even more, wouldn’t it?”

“I also like you fully clothed while I’m naked,” you purr. Jumin raises a brow, but continues the assault on your pussy.

“Well, I’m not complaining.”

Your lewd sounds fill the quiet air, and you feel the familiar knot in your abdomen. You come in Jumin’s hand, and you turn your head to give him an open mouthed kiss. Breaking the kiss, he pulls his long fingers out of you not before licking the slick off.

You stand over him slightly and lean down to undo his zipper and pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, the tip leaking pre cum. You reach down between your legs and swipe your fingers through the folds, wetting them. Your hand reaches up to his member and you grip around it, running your hand up and down the shaft.

Jumin makes a guttural sound as your mouth moves on him. He reaches his hand down to run through your hair.

Two knocks at the door.

You pause an anxious fear in your throat. Jumin clears his throat, “What is it?”

“It’s me, Sir, I’m here to remind you of your 2 o’clock meeting in about thirty minutes.” Jaehee says through the door. “Can I come in to give you the briefing?”

“You may.”

“Wow, ballsy,” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear. He smirks slightly and adjusts his tie.

“Well, you’re meeting with Mr. Phantomhive to discuss collaborating on a project. His company hasn’t really gotten footing here in South Korea,” Jaehee remarks.

Meanwhile, you’re bobbing your head on Jumin’s length, the thought of the both of you getting caught working you up. You massage his balls and try to suck in as much as you can, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jumin huffs, making Jaehee pause to ask if he’s doing alright.

“Is that all? I have to finish up this cat project outline soon,” he says quietly.

“Ah, one more thing, Mr. Phantomhive hates being called short or looked down upon, so please try your best to behave!”

“Fine fine,” he waves her off, “I assume Meeting Room 3?”

“Yes Sir, I’ll come get you once Mr. Phantomhive arrives.”

“Good. Please close the door on the way out.” You hear Jaehee shuffle out awkwardly, the door clicking behind her.

“MC, you’re very distracting,” Jumin says, looking down at you.

“Yes, I know.”

“Why don’t you come up here then?” You pop off, licking your lips slightly and pull down your panties so it hangs off your ankle.

You give him a quick kiss before your hand reaches down for his dick. His hands lay on your hips as you sink your drenched core down, helping you better situate. You let out a moan as he fills you up, not a spot without him there.

“J-Jumin, you f-feel so good in me…” your arms wrap around the both of you, one gripping the chair and the other in his hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Not even 20 seconds later, you’re already bouncing, and he’s meeting every one perfectly.

“Love, why don’t you turn around so I can look at your pretty face?”

“But I don’t want to get up,” you whine.

“That’s an order, sweetheart,” he says, slightly lifting you up.

“Ooh, you know I love when you do that. I guess I can’t say no to that now, can I?” You turn to face him and fully sit this time, your heels just above his knees.

“I love looking at your face, the way it contorts into pleasure as I give it to you raw,” he growls, latching onto one of your breasts. You throw your head back in ecstasy, arching your back more as he pumps into you at a steady pace.

“Mmm...go faster..please. Absolutely wreck me,” you beg. That really seemed to get him going, his pace more erratic and his fingers digging into your sides. You lean down to kiss him, his mouth already slightly parted. His tongue instantly finds its way into your mouth and he groans into it.

“MC, I can’t last much longer, he pants.”

“Come in me, Daddy. Let’s have little Jumin’s and MC’s running around soon,” you tell him.

Thick ropes of cum fill your cervix, as you come yourself for the third time. Jumin holds you close as the both of you come down from your highs.

“I love you, Jumin,” you say, pressing your forehead against his.

“I love you more,” he whispers sweetly. “Oh how you do me.”

The phone on Jumin’s desk beeps, startling you both. “Mr. Han? Your appointment starts in 5 minutes. I’ll be up in a few,” the voice says.

“Oh I do not want to go to this meeting anymore,” Jumin says, “Let’s just stay like this.”

“You need to though, Mr. Phantomhive’s candy is really good and I haven’t had any since our trip to England,” You remark, getting off him and handing him a tissue.

“That’s reason enough,” he shrugs, cleaning up a bit and fixing his hair. Meanwhile, you slip your dress back on and stuff your bra in your purse.

“See you later, love,” you smile, leaning up to peck his cheek, and fix his tie.

“You’ll hopefully be seeing me earlier than planned,” he says, brushing down your hair.

“Oh? You gonna give Jaehee the day off?”

“Sure, yes. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. Ellie and I will be waiting for your return...though I’m sorry I took you away from your lunch,” you say with a slight frown.

“I’ll eat a good dinner. So good until I have my fill,” he says in a sultry voice.

“Okay, tiger, calm down,” you laugh. “Bye for reals now.”

“MC? You’re still here?” Jaehee opens the door, a surprised look on her face. “I didn’t see you earlier when you walked in?”

“You came up? I must of been in the bathroom..Nice seeing you!” You smile at your friend and briskly walk out, the embarrassment of what you and your CEO-in-line just did mere minutes before.

“Mr. Han, are you ready for your meeting?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s get this over with.”

#jumin han #jumin x mc #jumin x reader #jumin smut #mm #mystic messenger #mystic messenger smut #Smut #lemon #fanfic #fanfiction #mysme

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starshine-effendy · 3 years

Text

We’ve all heard of Jealous Levi But now I introduce to you JEALOUS DAD LEVI (w/ you as the mother)

A/N: Heheheheheh Thank me later

Summary: Your daughter has a boyfriend. The amount of time she had to beg Levi to accept him was just... incredible. He finally accepted but now your daughter wasn’t so affectionate or talkative with your husband anymore. Let’s give him low-key jealousy first then change it up a bit.

I do not own any characters from attack on titan they all belong to Hajime Isayama

Warning: Jealousy and a bit of possessiveness and uh 18+ jokes? and a bit of swearing!

You stared at the boy that was standing beside your daughter, hands intertwined.

“Mom... Before you say anything,” Your daughter said.

“Your dad’s not gonna like this,” You giggled, reminded about Levi’s jealousy when someone tried to touch you. Now it’s your daughter that Levi absolutely cherished.

Your daughter pulled you out of the house and closed the door, “Mom... Please...”

You can’t do anything but smiled because you knew sh- bouta go down.

If Levi wasn’t already a beast in strength and bed then he’d be a literal demon towards boyfriends. How do you know that? Levi’s standing behind your daughter and the boy standing beside her.

Your eyes and smile widen as you tried to enter your house.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Your daughter asked.

How they can’t sense the deadly, murderous aura behind them is beyond you. You stood there frozen for a while.

“Uh... Is your mom okay?” The boy asked.

Bad move. Bad move. Bad move! Your hands finally found the door handle and you quickly went inside.

Your daughter and the boy looked at each other with confusion written all over their faces but quickly changed to fear once they heard,

“(Daughter’s name)... Who’s this?” Levi growled.

You daughter quickly turned to face her dad who had the deadliest stare in whole world.

“Heyyy Dad~” Your daughter stammered, “I-I uh... Meet (Boy name),”

“Mhm and what is the relationship with this boy?” Levi’s growl was growing deadlier.

“H-he’s my boyfriend,” You daughter tried to sound confident but failed.

“How long has it been going on and what did you do with him?” Vemon could be felt when he said those words.

“U-uh 4 months an-and hugging and holding hands,” Your daughter continued to ramble, “He hasn’t hurt me or anything dad but he’s really nice and he uh... He go me flowers and a new... MOM!!!”

You quickly got outside again and refrained your husband from killing the boy who ran. Ran like Death was chasing him.

Fast forward to the first year of the relationship. After months of pleading and begging Levi finally gave the boy a chance but your daughter grew distant after a while. He would miss out on tea time to go out with her boyfriend and let’s all just agree... That it made your husband jealous.

One day in family game night,

Yes. Game night. Your daughter was about to skip it to go out with her boyfriend but before she could your husband yelled, “You’re grounded for 3 days,”

“But Dad...! That’s not fair!!” Your daughter plead but it went to deaf ears.

“If you want you can invite your boyfriend here but you are not going out young lady!” He argued.

You just sat there watching your daughter and husband argue back and forth but soon she just let out a loud sigh and texted who you assume to be her boyfriend. She joined you in the table and you guys were playing monopoly.

After a while, the doorbell rang and your daughter got up and answered it. You patted Levi’s back in attempts to calm him down.

You could hear your daughter yell, “Baby! You’re here!”

Your daughter and her boyfriend joined the table and proceeded to play. The atmosphere was so tense you could cut it with a knife. Suddenly, the boyfriend began to speak, “You know... Sir... Your daughter calls me daddy too,”

OH HO HO HO BAD MOVE. VERY BAD BAD MOVE. The look of fear in your eyes was enough to tell your daughter it’s time to run. You and your daughter ran towards the other room leaving the cocky boyfriend and your husband alone in the room.

“You know...” You started, “You might not be able to get near him again,”

“With what he said tonight? I understand now he’s an idiot,” Your daughter replied.

Let’s just say that night was full of violence. The boyfriend ended up with 6 broken bones, a bloody nose, black eye and countless bruises. Levi... looked untouched and because of his title the police didn’t do anything to him. Instead, they understood that what the boy did was... Stupid because... Well... Levi.

Your daughter can’t date anyone till she’s 19 and You got to see your daughter and Levi bond more often. So... Win-Win?

#levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x you #dad!levi #levi x y/n

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dobbyjen · 3 years

Text

Tiny Dancer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: some swearing, kisses, a tad of drinking, cute dad Frankie

Summary: Frankie comes home just in time for his daughter’s dance recital

A/N: So I’ve never written a fic before so this is my first one. Grammar and all that crap is probably wrong but whatever. I am no writer at all. If anyone does read it please be nice. It was just a cute little idea that popped into my head because the world needs more dad Frankie fics. Might write something else in the future in this universe if anyone reads this.

__________________________________________________________

“Mommy when daddy come?” your 3 year old pouts as you help her into her ballet outfit. You sigh and grab the 2 fuzzy yellow scrunchies off the bathroom counter and start parting her hair into two.

“I’m not sure Franny.” she frowns even more and wiggles are head out of your hands.

“I wike daddy do hair!” she screams and stomps her foot onto the bathroom tiles. You groan as you look into her teary big brown eyes. Frankie’s eyes. Frankie has been gone for 6 days and it was getting alot harder to deal with the mini Frankie. Francesca Morales was the splitting image of her father. Looks and personality wise. And she was the BIGGEST daddy’s girl. She’d been wrapped around his finger the second she came out.

“Daddy should be home soon and then you can show him pictures of how beautiful you look today.” her frown gets a tad smaller and she scoots back in between your legs for you to do her hair. “Maybe if you do your pretty toes so well we can get a treat after the recital?” you barely have time to tighten the last scrunchie as she whips around and crushes your neck into a hug.

“Yay mommy! Get pupcakes?! I so good at pwetty toes!” she skips around the bathroom practicing her pretty toes as you finish packing her little purple dinosaur backpack.

“Of course princess. Let’s get going before we’re late.”

__________________________________________________________

“Frankie you said you were done with this shit! I’m going to personality kick Pope’s ass.” you huff as you plop down on the bed. Frankie sighs and comes over, bending between you legs.

“It will be 3 days...max babe. We need the money. I’m doing this for you and Francesca.”

“Frankie...i swear to god if you don’t come home...i...i don’t know...”

“Hey hey hey everything is gonna be okay. Pope said there’s no way this can go wrong. It’s go in, get the money and we’re out home free. I promise.”

__________________________________________________________

“Do you want me to wait here in case she throws you out?” Pope snickers as he pulls up outside the Morales house. Frankie glares at Pope and smacks his hat off his head.

“Fuck off. If anything she’s gonna kick your ass.” Frankie mumbles as he gets out of the truck and runs up the front porch. He twists the doorknob and whacks his head on the door as he realizes its locked. “What the....” Frankie panics for a minute wondering why its locked. They only just moved into the house 2 months ago and hadn’t gotten around to getting a spare key hidden. Frankie wracks his brain for why you wouldn’t be home. There’s no way you left with Francesca was there? “Hey what day is it?” Frankie yells back to Pope who is still sitting in his truck.

“Uhhhh...Sunday June 12th?” Pope yells back and Frankie feels like he just got slapped in the face.

“FUCK!” Frankie yells and runs back into Pope’s truck. “Drop me off at the civic centre NOW.”

“What why? They’re not home?” Pope sputters as he rips the truck into drive.

“Today is Franny��s first dance recital and i think it already started. Fuck she’s defiantly gonna kill me now.”

__________________________________________________________

Pope doesn’t even have time to put the truck into park before Frankie is jumping out and running through the doors of the civic centre. He stops as he reads the sign looking for the room with the dance recital. Auditorium 5. He runs down the hallway and stops when he sees a table selling flowers.

“How much for all of them.” Frankie huffs as he grabs outs his wallet. The young boy stares at Frankie with a gaping mouth.

“Uhhhh.....they're’ a-a dollar a-a fl-flower sir.” Frankie nods and throws him a 10. The boy swallows his nerves and hands Frankie a bouquet of rainbow roses. Frankie murmurs a thanks and sneaks into auditorium 5. There’s no seats available so he just stands against the back wall. There’s a group of 2 year olds on stage at the moment attempting a hip hop routine and Frankie chuckles to himself thinking of how Franny would look hopping around to the upbeat music. He looks down at the program and sees that her group is next.

The hip hop group run off the stage and the crowd cheers for them. Two young girls come out and take away the previous props and set out 8 pairs of yellow pom poms. Walking on Sunshine starts to play as the 8 little girls coming skipping out to find their spots. Frankie’s face begins to hurt from smiling so much as he spots Francesca. Wearing her yellow dance onesie and yellow tutu with her hair up in two messy pigtails. She does the little 2 minute routine so well Frankie can feel his eyes welling up with tears. Fuck he’s proud of her. This is why he needed to get home. He couldn’t fathom missing another experience like this. You and Francesca were the reason he kept pushing though the hard days. You both were his entire world.

__________________________________________________________

The recital comes to an end and all the parents wait around in the main foyer waiting for their little dancer to come out.

Frankie fidgets with the bouquet of flowers in his hands as he looks around the crowd for a glimpse of you. He looks down at his watch and panics that he missed you guys and you went home, until......

“DADDY?!!!” You look up startled by your daughter’s random outburst and Frankie spins around as he hears his little girl screaming. He drops to his knees as Francesca comes flying into his arms. Frankie wraps his one arm around her small body and cradles her head with his hand and holds her close to him. The flowers drop to the ground long forgotten.

“Hi princess. I missed you so much. You did so good with all your twirls.” he whispered to her, smothering her head with kisses. She giggles uncontrollably and moves her head to kiss Frankie’s face all over as well. Making sure she kissed away the couple of tears away that snuck out. “These flowers are for you Fran.” Frankie smiles and puts the giant bouquet in her tiny arms.

“Woooow!! Mommy look!” Franny squeals and Frankie finally looks up and is met with your tear filled eyes. He stands with Franny in his arms and walks over to you.

“Hi.” he whispers. You gasp as you wrap your arms around the both of them. Frankie sighs as he buries his face into you hair, breathing in your scent. Fuck he missed this.

“W-when did you get back?” you sniffle and pull back to look into his brown eyes. Francesca looked between her parents confused and pawed at both their faces to dry their tears. Frankie chuckled at her gesture and tickled her side a bit making his favourite sound ring through his ears. A very high pitched giggle.

“Uhh...like 2 hours ago? I stopped at home first and then realized what day it was. I won’t miss this day for the world.”

“You shaved.” You said as you rubbed your hands over his bare jaw. You don’t think you’ve ever seen his face this bare before. You loved his patchy beard so dearly but you could probably get used to this face as well.

“Daddy no more pokey.” Franny scrunched up her face and placed a sloppy kiss to his cheek. You both laugh.

“Do you like it love?” Frankie questions.

“As long as your home and safe that’s all that matters to me.” you whisper as you lean in to kiss his lips.

“Ew yucky kisses!!” Franny squeals as she pushes your faces apart. Frankie chuckles as he moves his kisses to all over his daughter face. “Mommy we get pupcakes now?”

“Mommy promised you cupcakes?” Franny nods her head and Frankie looks towards his wife.

“Well i guess you did do an amazing job princess and i did promise this morning. She barely let me do her hair. Wanted you to do it.” you said rolling your eyes at Frankie. Frankie chuckled as you all walked out to the parking lot.

“I mean i would have done a way better job.” you rolled your eyes yet again and smacked his shoulder lightly as you unlocked Frankie’s truck. Frankie buckled Franny into her car seat and then shut the door. He turned and grabbed you in a bone crushing hug. “I’m so sorry it took so long love. Nothing went as planned and we didn’t even get the money. And I-I dont...”

“Frankie stop. You don’t have to talk about it right now. Let’s go get our little ballerina a cupcake k?” Frankie smiles and captures your lips in one last kiss. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the moon and back even more.”

__________________________________________________________

“I think she finally crashed” Frankie says as he grabs a beer from the fridge and plops down next to you on the couch taking a big swig.

“I swear to god if she doesn’t sleep through the night again I’m gonna...ugghh” You mumble into your wine glass.

Frankie turns towards you and raises an eyebrow. “She hasn’t been sleeping?”

“Umm not since you’ve left. She wakes up around 2:30 every night crying for you. So i bring her into bed and she sleeps on your pillow with one of your shirts. It soothes her back to sleep. She also naps with one of shirts.” You sigh and look away from him, blinking back the tears. Frankie frowns, puts his beer on the coffee table and grabs your wine glass too.

“Cmere.....i’m so sorry i left babe. I didn’t mean for it to be so hard for you. I’m never leaving again.” You cry into his side as he rubs his hand through your hair.

“What-what happened Frankie....I know you’re not okay. You don’t just disappear off the face of the earth for a week. Pope said it was going to be okay....I wouldn’t have let you go if...”

Frankie shudders and looks up at the ceiling trying to blink the tears away. You sit up and grab his face gently in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I’ve got you honey. Whenever you want to talk i’m here.” you give a small reassuring smile and wipe the silent tears falling down his face. That breaks Frankie. He begins to sob and explain the terrible events of the last week. You hold him and listen.

When he’s finished you both just lay on the couch holding each other.

“When- when we lost Tom....all i thought about was you and Francesca and how I needed to get home. I swear to god I am never doing anything like that again. Pope said the money should free up by Wednesday so we’ll be good for a while. Will and I were thinking of opening up a shop, keep is busy for a while. I’m never leaving you guys ever again. We can take Franny to the shelter next week and she can pick out her dog finally.”

You giggle at the dog comment. That little girl has been asking for a dog the second she could talk and Uncle Benny put that idea into her head. “She’d really like that. And i’m also still kicking Pope’s ass next time I see him.”

Frankie laughs and kisses you head “Oh babe I’ve already warned him.”

__________________________________________________________

#frankie morales x fem!reader #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #dad frankie

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

3x14: Long-Distance Call

Guys! We have a special surprise next week!! (Hint: We finally get to recap the gay angel episodes again!) Until then, enjoy our last episode for season 3...

Then:

Sam’s saving his brother no matter what

Now:

On a stormy night, a man drinks alone, contemplating life. His phone rings. It’s Linda. Ben tells her he can’t. “My wife.” He hangs up the phone. It rings again. Linda pleads with him. She loves him. He hangs up again. The phone rings AGAIN. He slams it down repeatedly and tears it from the wall. IT RINGS AGAIN! Damn, Linda, you are persistent. To stop the ringing, Ben pulls out a gun and shoots himself.

Dean tells Sam they have a case. Sam tells Dean that they’re on a case --his. Dean balks at that because they’ve got nothing. Bela’s gone, the Colt’s gone, and Dean would rather work a case they can solve than wallow in his imminent death.

They head to Milan, Ohio. They head right to the dead guy’s house and interview his widow. She’s a little belligerent but tells them that there was blood everywhere (Oh, that’s why she’s belligerent), favorite scotch was out, and the phone was ripped from the wall.

Sam asks to look at the crime scene. He goes through the caller ID. Dean asks about strange phone calls. She admits that a couple weeks prior she picked up on a call that Ben was on. It was static. No one was there.

Research time!

Dean finds out that “Linda” was Ben’s high school sweetheart --and she died in a car accident. On top of that, she was cremated. On top on top of that, Sam discovered that the caller ID on the phone traces back to a phone number used a century ago! (I presume Sam did all that research while he stared out the window.)

They head to the bowels of the phone company to find fly infested, porn addicted Stewie. I’m going to skip over all this but will laugh at the ad that said “Order now & receive a bone-us gift!” Sam asks Stewie to trace the old-time number. (Natasha: flames on the side of my face at this damn offensive porn franchise.)

Dean pulls out the threat level 5 on the guy and the guy finds some results. There’s different houses that all received a call from that number.

Sam heads to investigate one house. He poses as a phone company employee. He asks about strange phone activity. The man that answers the phone says that they haven’t had any issues. Sam notices the daughter looking concerned in the background.

She pops outside to call his bluff. She wants to know why he was asking about the phones. He gives her a little give and she admits that she’s been talking on the phone with her mom --who’s dead.

Dean checks in with similar stories. Then he gets a call. It’s the static-y voice of John Winchester.

Later at the motel, Sam wants to know more about Dean’s call. Dean gets all nervous boy about it possibly really being their dad, and what they should do about it. What should Dean say? Sam, ever the pragmatist, suggests, “hello.” It’s funny, but I guess not really because Dean walks out on his brother.

Dean comes back with a reason why things are happening here. It’s the birthplace of Thomas Edison, and there’s a museum with Edison’s spirit phone.

They take a tour but the phone doesn’t have any EMF. They’re stumped as to what’s happening.

Later that night, while Sam slumbers, Dean stays awake to answer his phone. John calls again. He asks Dean how he could sell his soul. “I was looking after Sammy like you told me to.” (Boris screams into the void) John tells Dean that the demon that holds Dean’s contract is in Ohio.

Meanwhile, the daughter from earlier is IMing a friend when she gets a message from her dead mom. The mom says she wants to see her. The girl is scared but her mom reassures her that she’s with her. Then the girl’s computer flickers out and in the reflection of the monitor, we see the girl and her mom.

The next morning, Sam returns from interviewing Lanie, the haunted daughter, to find Dean obsessing over demon omens. He shares his intel with Sam.

Dean’s pretty sure the demon who owns his contract is following him. I pull a Dean voice to say, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” only Dean’s actual line in the show is “My ass is too sweet to let out of sight.” God. This show. Sam tries to tell him that the demon-killing exorcism that John gave Dean over the phone might not be as advertised. Dean’s a believer, though. He’s got faith in John! (Just gonna take a li’l writing break to tear at my hair.)

Sam heads back to watch over Lanie, but before he goes the Winchesters hold an emotional shouting match. Dean’s ready to stop the demon from coming after him once and for all and thinks that Sam’s reticence is just more head-butting with their (now dead) dad. Sam accuses Dean of having “blind faith” towards his father and I weep. Sam leaves with one request: that Dean stay put until he returns from seeing Lanie. So. That’s going to go well.

Lanie explains to Sam what’s been going on - that her mom’s requests have extended beyond the normal grieving cemetery visit. We cut to a young kid playing in his room. His toy phone rings. “Hi, mommy!” he chirps.

Cut to Dean “Single Man Tear” Winchester sitting dramatically by his phone. It rings.

Lanie reveals to Sam that her mother’s ghost told her to kill herself. When Sam hears the ghost’s catchphrase, “come to me,” he realizes that they’re dealing with something else entirely.

While Sam experiences revelation, Dean heads off alone following his dad’s orders. f r o w n y f a c e. He ends up in a quiet, suburban home.

Meanwhile, Lanie’s brother Simon (of the toy phone fame) has gone missing. Sam saves him just in time from getting pancaked by a truck. As soon as the kids are buttoned up back home, Sam calls Dean. He tells him that a crocatta is after the people of the town. It’s a scavenger that lures grieving people and eats their souls. It tends to dwell in filth. Dean recalls the flies at the phone company, so Sam heads out on a hunt. (Meanwhile, YES, Dean’s off having his own questionable adventures, setting demon traps in a nearby house.)

Sam calls Dean for backup before assaulting Stewie, the phone guy. “I know what you are and I know how to kill you,” Sam says to the terrified guy. Someone looms behind Sam with a baseball bat. It’s Clark, the manager! He takes out poor soft-headed Sammy. Unfortunately, Clark takes out Stewie too.

They both wake up tied to chairs inside the building. Clark kills Stewie and then fangs out. He unhinges his jaw and sucks out Stewie’s soul. Yummy? Clark then lays his hands on the phone console...because it’s time to kill Dean!

Elsewhere, in a police locker room, a man’s phone rings. It’s his daughter. “I know who killed me, daddy,” she says. The girl’s voice tells him that her killer is at their house right now.

Clark explains to Sam that spoofing John Winchester was incredibly easy. All he had to do was find their phone numbers, then John’s old numbers. That let him listen to voicemails, read emails, and easily find the weak links that led him to target Dean. Oof. (Side note: a crocatta would make a seriously amazing private detective in an alternate Supernatural where monsters have better meal restraint.)

Dean stands ready at the suburban house - ready to kill a demon. The grieving officer heads home, ready to kill his daughter’s murderer.

Dean’s jug of holy water is met with an angry father with a shotgun, so things start out really well. They quickly devolve into a dirty fist fight.

Meanwhile, the crocatta continues to villain-monologue at Sam.

Technology, Clark says, makes it so much easier to target people. They’re connected - yet isolated and easier to pick off. (I scoff at this overdone oversimplification of the role of “technology” in society. I hate when people try to pretend the past was trouble-free.) Sam finds his argument weak as well, and punctuates that by breaking free of his bonds and attacking Clark.

At the house, Dean disarms the grieving cop and reveals the demon trap below the carpet. He starts reading out the exorcism. To his horror, the guy walks right out of the demon trap. When the guy accuses him of killing his daughter, the pieces click for Dean.

Sam kills Clark by jabbing his head into a retail hook suspended off the wall. OH I SEE, this show has always been obsessed with death by hook. >:|

Dean and the officer avoid killing each other. Instead, they despair in beaten silence together, before we cut to Dean holding a compress to his forehead back at the motel.

Sam and Dean go over the case back in the motel, but talk quickly switches to EMOTIONS. Sam apologizes to Dean. Dean admits he was wrong. “I wanted to believe so badly,” he says. STORY OF HIS LIFE DAMN IT. He admits that he’s terrified of dying. Terrified of Hell.

Sam gives him sad puppy eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with having hope.”

“Hope doesn’t get you jack squat,” Dean tells him.

For Sad Boys with Poor Coping Mechanisms Science:

Call Me By Your Quote:

I just talked to an 84 year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea! It redefined my understanding of the word 'Necrophilia'

That’s what happens when you mess with the phone company, dillweed

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn 3x14 #long distance call #supernatural season 3

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monochromemedic · 3 years

Text

“You know you and that Dwight kid are alot alike.” “How so?” “Well out here you two are like nervous dogs, pissing yourself and clinging to everyone like white on rice but out there you seem to grow a pair and do some impressive shit.” Ash huffed, a grin curling the corners of lips as he tightened a few gears on his hand. “Thanks Ash, that means alot coming from you.” “I know.” I watched his grin widen in pride before falling, eyes lifting to Dwight and Nea a few feet away, their heads turned to the approaching fog that swept the forest. “Looks like it’s time to fetch those cojones, we’re heading out.” --------------------------------------------- The Thompson House The sun beamed down from above, nearly blinding me with it’s light. Every realm was so damn dark, that it was always jarring to be brought back here. I could already hear the corn beside be rustling, a dark shape darting away towards a distance generator. I exhaled sharply, confirming it was Nea from her beanie. My calm composition was shattered as I felt hands resting on my shoulders, causing me to twist around, a hand raised to strike a Ghostface, or Wraith trying to play with me. Dwight’s hands shot towards upwards, a shocked look on his face. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, don’t hit me!” I lowered my fist, sighing again before quickly checking the area around us. “It’s ok Dwight, what do you need?” “I think we should work on a generator together, a bit away from Nea and Ash, you know just in case one of them gets caught we can complete one. Also uh, I can’t find Ash and Nea...” He trailed off, but I got what he was getting at. “Sounds good to me, lead the way.” I reached out for his hand, intertwining my fingers with his. They were so clammy, how that was possible despite being in the realm for only a few moments were a mystery not even the Entity knew. Dwight paused for a moment, his thumb gently brushing the back of my hand before leading me to a generator he saw fit. Just as we reached the gen, a cry of pain erupted from Ash, scaring a few of a crows to fly into the air. The chase had begun, all Ash had to do was waste the killer’s time and try to stay alive while the rest of us did the work. Knowing Ash, he could piss a killer off like no tomorrow, causing them to want to give the most brutal punishments to him and only him. If we were lucky, Ash would throw the creature off it’s game and we could get an advantage. Dwight winced in sympathy, before turning his attention to the wires, brows knitted and broken glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “He’s got this.” I muttered under my breath, trying to comfort myself and Dwight’s nerves. Ash was a tank, sometimes it took a few extra hits just to down him, if not a good dozen on a good day. It’s like that guy was made to be beaten up and in the rare case we were in that was a gift. But if the killer was smart, like few were, they knew the tricks, and Nurse knew that Ash was best saved for last. The sound of a faint heartbeat filled my ear, and I felt a shutter come over my body. Before I had a chance to open my mouth, the rushing form of the Nurse loomed over Dwight, her bonesaw slashing across his back. The man cried in pain, shooting up and running while he had the chance. I followed close behind, hoping that if needed, I could take a quick hit and keep Dwight from being on the hook. God I couldn’t stand to watch Dwight on the hook, the way he cried and whimpered, the tears that feel from his big kind eyes. There was a numbness to them, one that showed he’d done this a million times before but was still filled with a sense of terror, deep into his core. I think that’s what hurt the most, what made even the most hardboiled survivors feel pity. The Nurse slowly raised her hand, the sound of a desperate attempt for air echoing in the air. She was gonna teleport, and it was a long one. We could trick her. I quickly snatched Dwight’s hand, a cry of pain ripping his lips as I yanked him towards the Nurse. He gasped and whimpered, eyes bulging as he tried to rip his hand out of mine. “W-what are you doing!? We’re gonna-” As the words left his lips the Nurse vanished, appearing a few feet behind us with a choking sound, grabbing her chest for some resemblance of air. Dwight let out a surprised laugh, now trailing beside me willingly. “I-I kinda forgot we could do that to be honest. I’ve seen other’s do it but, I can never make my legs move TOWARDS her.” We took shelter behind a small makeshift wall, Dwight’s hand’s searching his back for the wound while he slouched against the wood. “How does it look? It feels deep.” I watched as a finger brushed the edge of the deep, bloodied cut, a sharp exhale rattling through his chest. “S-shit. Damn it, this isn’t good. My arm feels numb, how am I suppose to do generators like this?” My hand brushed against his cheek, smearing some of the blood droplets away from his eyes. “I’ll patch you up, no worries. Come on, turn around Dwighty... we just gotta hope she doesn’t have that one thing on her and you’ll be good as new, I promise.” A generator popped in the distance and not long after another popped in succession, a wave of comfort swept my body. At least the others were doing something. Dwight turned his back to me, his dirty white button up now torn and damp in sticky red. His cut was deep that much was true, but certainly not the worse any of us had. I began to work, trying anything and everything that would possibly help him feel better and close the wound. Despite this I couldn’t help the small sounds he would make in response, the way he’d shutter and twitch with every movement towards the wound. It was a familiar sight unfortunately, but despite the fact you’d be playing EMT every night it didn’t mean you were any good at it. I whispered apologies under my breath, before going silent, my hand clasping over his mouth, my other hand pulling him flush against my chest. Spine Chill was acting up again, and although I couldn’t hear a heart beat that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appear beside us at a moments notice. Dwight’s breath was hot against my palm, I could feel him bite his lips, trying to silence himself even further. I’m glad he wasn’t the type of guy to push aside any safety procedures when he himself couldn’t sense danger. The amount of times I got caught because someone I was with didn’t catch sight of a killer was way too often. Spine Chill lingered for a good 3 to 4 seconds, before being broken, as her attention turned back to a taunting Ash. Thank god for him and the inherit desire to sock him in the face. I pulled my hand from Dwight’s mouth, running it down his neck to rest on his hip. “She was looking over here.” “I kind of suspected that... maybe we should get the generators done, we’re wasting alot of time as it is. One of is is gonna get on hook and it’s gonna go down hill from there if we don’t get at least one more gen, I had a trial at Haddonfield and we got the gens done way faster then this-” Dwight began to trail off, raising his fingers to lips to chew on his nails. “Dwight, it’s fine, I’m almost done anyway, then we can get those gens done faster then any Haddonfield.” I turned my attention back to his wound, hearing Ash get go down in the distance. Damn it, he got way too cocky. Dwight began to bite himself harder, making underlying noise of distress. “Alright, all done, I’ll get Ash, you go to work on the Generator ok?” Dwight stood and nodded, the look on his face apparent he didn’t want me to go and instead work with him. I grabbed his bloody hand with mine, giving it a slight squeeze. “It’ll be ok, we’ll make it out of here, we always do, one way or another. Besides, I know how to juke her.” I flashed him a small smile, and he returned my hand squeeze weakly. “Be safe, she might be on to you... and Ash’s hook is by the basement.” “I know. But we gotta try to get him-” “No I know, it’s just... bad positioning is all. Go get him, he’s gonna hit the second hook threshold so Nea’s probably on the next gen.” He moved his hand, biting onto the next unlucky nail. “Alright, stop biting your nails baby, catch you on the other side of the gate.” I called out behind me as I jogged towards Ash’s aura. Half way there I realized what I said to Dwight, and felt my face cringe in reaction. Baby? I was just looking for a comfort term but it had to be baby? God why couldn’t he have an easy to abbreviate name? I slowly approached Ash’s hanging form, the hook piercing his blue shirt, turning it a dark crimson color. His tired eyes moved to look at me, the claws of the Entity closing around his body, ready to strike. “So nice of you to stop playing pat-a-cake with your boy toy to help a dying man.” He growled, a dribble of blood leaking down his chin as he spoke. “I wasn’t-” I stopped myself, lowing my voice while I quickly got him off the hook. “I wasn’t doing that, he got hit real bad by the bone saw. I... I accidently called him baby.” “Ho-ho! Look at you, little miss promiscuous.” He teased “It was an accident, he was freaking out, I was trying to call him something to calm him down but I couldn’t think of anything. He doesn’t think we’re gonna make it out due to how fast we’re doing the gens.” “We could be half way out the door and he’d think we aren’t doing good enough, the boy needs to get some of that good stuff ya know what I mean?” Ash mimicked smoking as we made our way to where Dwight was, hearing Nea go down in the distance. “It’s weed-” “I know-” “Not that if I found any I’d give it to him. Daddy’s needs come first and I’ll be damned if I’m giving the first recreational drug I find in this hell scape to a desk jockey.” “Somehow I don’t think he’d take it anyway...” Ash snorted, pressing his metal hand against the gaping wound in his chest, a gush of blood dripping down his front. “Ye-yeah good point. Damn it, let’s just get this over with, I really hate the hook wounds.” ------------------------------------------------------------------- The rest of the trial went well, as well as a trial with a murderous teleporting health care worker could go. With the help of Dwight we managed to get the last gens done fairly quickly. The only trouble was a second hook for Ash and one for Nea but otherwise we got out fairly safe. Seems like the Nurse was off her game, and Ash’s perfected skill of being an annoying asshole was once again overpowered and successful. I slumped against the log, wrapping the dirty gauze around my arm from the clawed hands of the Nurse. She managed to hit me right at the end, tried to pull me back into the trial with what strength she had. Luckily due to the Entity’s twisted sense of humor it was already healing, a double edged sword when you found out it was just to put you through the wringer later. Dwight frowned at the tattered remains of his clothes, his thumb smoothing over the rough slash before standing up and beginning to rummage through his suitcase of clothes. “Damn kid, you’re yolked as hell. Why the hell have you been holding out on all of us huh? What’s your secret?” Ash gawked, circling around the bare chested Dwight. Despite the fact he was facing away from me I could some how sense how red his face was getting, his arms curling around his chest to hide himself. Ace who just returned from a walk in the woods chime in as well. “Damn, I looked just like that as a young buck.” He turned to face me, giving a signature smile and finger guns. “Now I look even better.” “I... I don’t look that good, I’ve just been um... running alot. Hyperventilating.” He tried to turn his attention to his clothes, picking out a sweater to hold close to him. “Nah don’t be so shy, why don’t we ask the pretty lady how you look huh? Jenna. What do you think of this hot slab of man meat hmm?” Ash’s arm wrapped around Dwight’s shoulder, turning his body to face me. He looked terrified, his eyes wide and beads of sweat beginning to form along his forehead. Ash was right, he wasn’t ripped but he certainly was fit. But most of the survivors were fit, least the ones that were here the longest were. A nice soft v-line, the smallest signs of the beginning of abs being amplified by the light of the campfire. I averted my eyes to the dirt below, nudging a clump of dirt with my shoe. “You look nice Dwight, Ash and Ace are right even if they are... them.” “Well you heard the lady, the house is always right.” Ace chimed in from his seat on the long. “You got spunk kid.” “And if you keep it up you’ll get to spunk-” Ash smiled, causing Dwight to huff and pull himself away, earning a scolding from myself “Ash-” “What? I can’t be a hype man for nervous nelly over here? I’m trying to give the man a pair that he NEEDS.” “He has a pair Ash, come on. I know you’re trying to help, you try to help alot of people but...” “But what? Come on Sugar, spill it. I know you like to keep those thoughts to yourself.” “...You can be a little... much.” “Baby I’m all a little much-” I felt my cheeks warming up, crossing my arms nervously as Ash loomed over me. “I mean... sometimes you need a softer approach with things, with Dwight, with me. You can be... off-putting or rude to people who aren’t into your... muchness. You probably scared Dwight off and made him more self conscious cause you said that instead of helping him.” “Well then who’s fault is that? We told him he looks great! Ugh, whatever, I’ll stop being a charity case then, since nobody seems to be appreciative.” Ash grunted, turning around to storm off to a second campfire off in the distance. “Ashley... damn it...” My shoulders slumped in defeat, going to sit beside Ace who was twisting a scratched coin between his fingers. “Don’t sweat it mi tesoro, Ash is just thick headed when it comes to his ways. You either get it through or you break your hand trying to knock the sense into him.” “Was I wrong? Maybe I was being too harsh on Ash. I just... I just don’t want us to fight, I don’t want anyone to fight. We’re all so tense in trials I just want us to get along and be happy for once outside of them.” Ace frowned, placing a comforting hand on my thigh so I would look at him. “Sometimes people will fight, especially since, well... we’re HERE of all places. But give em enough time and when the right moment comes around they’ll forget all about whatever fight you were having and drag your ass from the basement apologizing and praying you won’t die. Happened to me twice. When the shit hits the fan we look out for each other and if it isn’t hitting the fan then it’s not a day in the fog am I right?” He flashed another smile and I couldn’t help but smile along “Yeah, yeah I suppose you’re right. I just want it to stay happy. But that’s impossible huh?” “Not impossible, just very, very, very hard. But I love shitty odds, so I’m with you for keeping the vibe lively. Maybe when Dwight and Ash come back with can get a round of cards going huh? I promise I won’t cheat.” “I got a feeling you’re lying to me but honestly I’ll take a rigged game any day.”

#dbd ash #dbd dwight #self ship? idk #tw drug mention #i will not check my work I am lazy #dbd ace

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diyunho · 4 years

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The Joker x Reader - “Ashes”

After The Joker’s daughter accidentally drowned, his relationship with Y/N fell apart: they were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return. The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation. Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

“Happy Birthday, Pumpkin Pie,” The Joker grumbles. “Here’s Charlie: I thought you would like to see him,” he places the purple hippo on Emma’s headstone.

Today his daughter would have been 4 years old. Instead of the usual party filled with laughter and presents he’s at “Eternal Peace” cemetery early in the morning for a different kind of festivity.

J never celebrated birthdays before yet once she showed up in his life the anniversary got a fresh new meaning: Y/N ensured that The King of Gotham was aware of how lucky they both were to have her. And he did learn to care about that tiny being he created who first called him something similar to “dada”, then a cute “da’y” and finally the word he craved to hear every single day until she was gone: “daddy.”

Being a father thought him a couple of things, but the most important was quite stunning: the index finger from his right hand wasn’t only meant for using a trigger; it was also his child’s soother.

Emma would keep it prisoner when she slept from an early age; of course all babies do it although in this case it didn’t go away once she got older.

And he misses that…

A lot.

Actually, he would give up on a robbery or anything that involves him holding a gun if she could clutch to his finger one more time.

That’s how much he misses The Princess.

“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” Frost gets him out of trance. “There’s movement at the South gate. We have to go…”

J snatches the plush animal and follows Jonny on a path behind the crypts when a woman walking on the alley leading to Emma’s grave catches his attention: although she has a red wig and sunglasses on, her disguise doesn’t fool him. It’s Y/N.

She’s carrying a small cake and intensely stares at the pavement, unaware of her surroundings.

The Joker can’t really tell what she’s doing once in front of the tomb, nevertheless he guesses she’s singing “Happy Birthday” while wiping the tears strolling down her cheeks.

He didn’t see Y/N in about 4 months. They went to the cabin by Moon Lake after Emma’s drowning and things were so rough he left immediately. She never followed, called or texted.

J didn’t either.

Why bother? They were guilty of failing to protect what they loved, blaming each other and themselves to the point of no return.

Today is extremely difficult to deal with, especially since the catalyst binding them vanished forever.

The sole palpable proof of Emma existence is her ashes encapsulated in glass pendants her parents wear and that’s hardly a memento able to help in such a difficult situation.

Ashes are not meant to bring people together.

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

After 2 Hours

“Hi,” The King of Gotham drags his feet on the porch and takes a sit on the chair next to yours.

“Hi…” you whisper, surprised to spot him after such a long absence.

Complete silence, then he utters:

“I’m here for the cake,” he points at the sweet treat resting on the wood table: vanilla- strawberry combo, your daughter’s favorite.

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I crave the taste…”

You lean over and cut two slices, sharing Emma’s birthday cake with her dad. It’s really painful to swallow the morsels knowing your baby can’t; it seems J is in the same boat.

“I can’t make anybody happy…” The Clown mumbles under his breath and the randomness of his statement makes you wonder what’s going on in his mind.

“Me neither… Sweet Pea was happy, wasn’t she? She was a happy kid…”

The Joker moves his plate towards you, hissing:

“She was and she would still be with us if instead of flirting you would have watched her!”

“… … W- what?!...” you glare at him, astonished he has the nerve to pop up and hurt you in such a manner. “Since when talking to somebody is flirting?! Where were you, huh? Where were you??? In your goddamn office plotting more schemes in order to get more money because nothing is enough!” you raise your voice and burst out crying in the next second. “She was ours to protect, the only treasure that mattered! I just… I just took my eyes off her for a few moments, I had no idea my baby was drowning in that pool …” you keep sobbing at the horrible memory, heartbroken. “I could have save her…Why didn’t I…?…”

The Joker can’t understand what you’re saying anymore, yet he doesn’t reply to your accusations or remorseful confessions.

How could he?

He’s equally responsible for Emma’s demise but it’s easier to attack her mother.

You abruptly get up and rush inside the cottage, abandoning J to his own demons. He doesn’t know if he should bail or stay, thus he continues to gaze at the lake numb to everything.

Still… The quietness is becoming unbearable so he finally gathers the strength to stand up and search for you.

“Y/N?...” he shouts. “Where are you?”

Silly question since the cabin is a little area with a kitchen/living room combo, one bedroom and bathroom: easy to find what you’re looking for.

No response but the shower is on which queues him Y/N must be there.

The Joker approaches the bathtub, unwilling to remove the curtain and talk to you face to face.

“It was my fault too…” he admits a fact that tormented him since the accident. “I should have kept an eye on her… I couldn’t predict she’ll sneak out to play by the swimming pool… I would give away a fortune if I could fix it… Do you believe me?...”

You sniffle and cover your mouth, trying to avoid his trap: if you engage, he will probably bite more and that’s the last thing you need.

“I have Charlie in the car; I thought you might want him tonight,” J reveals the true purpose of his visit. “Drop him off tomorrow at 3pm, I’ll be at the warehouse on 17Th Street. You can’t have the toy, it belongs in her room…”

You hear his steps receding and gasp for air, completely crushed by despair: the agony of grief is stronger than any consolation a stupid purple hippo could offer.

But it was Emma’s favorite and The Joker is willing to share a token of what you both lost; now that you think about it… you really missed Charlie…

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

Next Day, 2:05pm

“Where’s everybody?” you mutter whilst entering the code at the gates. Usually there are at least 8 henchmen guarding the fence and no sign of them so far. You drive up the unpaved alley, curiously checking out the landscape: same trees, bushes and trucks you’re familiar with, except you can’t discern a single goon patrolling the perimeter.

You honk to get the crew’s assistance without any success and you wonder if The Joker tricked you; I mean, you should have seen it coming: he is probably attempting one of his convoluted strategies to punish you for the tragic past.

You stop in front of the building, intrigued to notice it appears deserted.

Suddenly, a powerful blast shakes the ground and you watch part of the roof collapsing on the north side; a few windows shatter also.

You jump out of the car, totally confused at the strange occurrence.

“Hello?” you yell. “J???”

There’s smoke coming out of the opened metal door and you hesitantly walk in the warehouse, coughing at the suffocating odor.

“J?...” you scream. “J!!!!!”

A faint knock in the distance prompts your attention.

“Y/N!!”

“J??” you run towards the source of the noise only to find him under rubble next to the south entrance. “Oh my God!” you kneel by his feet buried under bricks. “What happened?!” The Queen frantically removes debris as he groans in pain.

“Explosives, that’s what happened. Shit, I think I fucked up my legs!”

“Where are the guys??!!” you inquire, managing to free his feet enough for him to move.

“I gave them the day off,” The Joker’s explanation puzzles Y/N. “Hurry up, please!! Another detonation will follow shortly!”

“Jesus Christ!” you quicken the pace and push the last bricks out of the way. “Can you stand?”

J rolls on his side, unable to comply.

“No, you’ll have to haul me out of here!”

“Come on!” you place your hands under his underarms and start pulling. “The exit is right there!”

You huff while straining to get to safety as The Clown aims to aid by lifting his body off the ground as much as he can.

“Behind the truck!” he urges once you’re out of the premises and you barely have time to hide behind the vehicle when a second bang levels half of the construction.

“This didn’t go according to plan,” J admits in a low tone, panting a storm after the ordeal.

You asses his wounds, pressing on the ankle and he immediately growls.

“The bone’s fractured,” you wipe your sweaty forehead. “What plan?”

“It’s actually your fault for all of this; I told you to swing by at 3 o’clock. You’re early!”

“Huh?”

“You were supposed to come when I told you then boom! Before you reached the building it would go up in flames: you would flip thinking that I’m dead and then I’ll show up and ask you to come back home. You would be so excited to see I’m alive you couldn’t refuse. Yet you ruined everything: you appeared out of nowhere, I panicked and messed up: you know I’m not good with this stuff!!”

You can’t even process the plot he’s throwing your way.

“What kind of plan…”

“I just told you I’m not good at this stuff,” he interrupts. “You know I’m not.”

You touch your chest, baffled at the ridiculous story.

“My pendant!” you exclaim when you realize the chain is not around your neck anymore. “It’s gone!” Y/N desperately searches the grass. “My baby, where’s my baby?” you part the green lawn on the verge of crying. “I can’t find my pendant! Maybe I dropped it the building,” you whimper and prepare to flee when J grabs your jeans, firmly holding on.

“Don’t go; the poles might cave in and whatever is left standing will squash you!!”

You don’t comprehend why he’s so worked up and his plea catches you off guard:

“Don’t go! I’ll give you half my ashes, ok?”

The Queen debates on The King’s proposal, conflicted by his candid offer.

After all, if ashes tear people apart, how come they can’t bring them back together?