#my chest hurts so bad because i had to run to get my lock off and quickly pack my stuff and run to my bus

[angeltism]

damn life hates me

[ofbatsandballads]

kindness you can’t afford

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: injured character, multiple descriptions of blood + wounds

a/n: so this is the very first jason fic I’ve written since I was twelve, so forgive me while I find my jay’s voice now that I’m not a preteen. anyways I humbly offer thee my wares.

divider credit: cafekitsune

Gotham’s a shithole. You hadn’t known that when you first moved here. To be honest, you’d kind of thrown a dart at a map and gone where it landed. Alright, maybe it wasn’t literally a dart throw, more so finding the cheapest metropolitan city because New York was tempting but it would bankrupt you. Mostly you just wanted a place to not exist. And so Gotham’s relatively low rent rates and towering skylines were the pick with little to no research.

Gotham’s a shithole. You know that beyond a shadow of a doubt now. It’s surprising, honestly, how little of Gotham’s chaos makes it outside the city limits. One would think a psychotic killer clown that’s prone to gassing a whole city district or a half-plant poison lady or a guy going around dressed like a bat would make national news. And yet, no. You’d known superheroes existed, of course. Superman was the shining jewel in the crown of the country that is Metropolis. Everyone knows about the extraordinary Wonder Woman. It’s not like hyper skilled people working for the greater good aren’t a thing. But Gotham plays her cards close to her chest.

You've lived here almost two years now and you’ve managed to make it through relatively unscathed. An impressive feat especially since you live in the Bowery. The Bowery itself isn’t so bad, but its neighboring district Park Row, more often known as Crime Alley, is about the worst Gotham has to offer. You’ve heard your fair share of gunshots and sirens, and you’ll never forget the time that Scarecrow released fear toxin in the district and you had to shove every towel and blanket you owned against the cracks by the doors and windows to keep it out. However, you’ve avoided being mugged or assaulted or anything like that so far. And you’ve never encountered the vigilantes that run the night here.

But there’s always time for new and exciting experiences.

The loud thunk that sounds outside your living room window makes you jump and starts your heart pounding. You know you should just ignore it. Crawl off the couch and to the bedroom, lock the door. The lights in the apartment are already off, only the television light illuminating the room, so it would be easy to creep unseen. But you can’t. Something pulls you to the window. Maybe it’s the cat killing curiosity, or maybe it’s your own little voice of self destruction, or maybe it’s something else entirely. All you know is that you have to go look.

So you do. And there, out cold on the fire escape, is a man. A very large man. A very large man in a red helmet. A very large man in a red helmet with dual pistols holstered to his thighs. Red Hood. Red Hood is passed out face up on your fire escape. Huh.

You’d heard of him. It was hard not to. The Bat had the most notoriety by far, but it was Red Hood that truly scared the criminals of Gotham. Batman might break your bones, cripple you even, but you’d leave with your life. No such guarantee existed if you crossed Red Hood. Hurt a few innocent people and you might end up with a bullet or three in your skull. Then there was that thing about heads in a duffel bag and Red Hood running crime for a solid year in Gotham, but he’s better now, apparently. None of this is deterring you from unlocking the window, pushing it up, and stepping out into the cold winter air. Not when you see the blood seeping through his body armor start to drip off the fire escape grate.

He needs help and he can’t stay unconscious in the middle of the city. If whoever injured him didn’t find him, the cops would. He’s just as wanted as the actual rogues of Gotham. You think it’s bullshit, which is why you’re trying to find a way to get him inside the safety of your apartment. He’s huge up close. This is going to be very, very difficult. Your mind flashes suddenly to one of your favorite childhood movies and how the princess pulled the dashing rogue around with her hair. You glance down at the street before heading to your bedroom.

You come back out with sheets bundled up in your arms. You’re not even sure if this harebrained idea will work, but you weave the sheets through the gaps in the grates and around Red Hood’s waist nonetheless. You secure a knot and go back into your apartment with the length of the sheets. Your legs are stronger than your arms, so you brace them against the wall and pull. You can feel his body slowly dragging towards you and you pause to check your progress. He’s slumped against the window now. Good. You loop your arms under his, place your feet back against the wall, and pull hard. Your hard work is rewarded with his body breaching the threshold of your window and landing directly on top of you. The air is knocked clean out of your lungs. He is heavy.

It’s a struggle but you manage to roll out from under him and immediately see the massive red stain contrasting against the white of your fluffy pajama pants. A small puddle of blood is emerging on your floor under his left thigh, and droplets of blood have splattered next to his torso. He’s not in great shape. It suddenly hits you what you’ve done. You dragged an injured vigilante, known for shooting first and asking questions later, into your apartment with no plan on what to do after the fact.

What the fuck did I do?

That’s all you can think as you look down at him. Then something snaps into place inside your rattled mind and you run to your bathroom to grab your first aid kit. You’d bought it and learned the basics after Wayne Enterprises ran televised infomercials about the importance of first aid a couple months back. You’re carefully balancing all the supplies in your arms as you head back out to the living room.

The empty living room. No vigilante in sight. Then your world spins. Everything clatters to the floor as you’re yanked backwards by your waist, pinned to something solid and unable to move.

“Who are you?” A growl sounds behind you, modulated to sound semi-mechanical.

Ah. There he is. You think you should be panicking, absolutely losing your shit even. But your brain is moving in slow motion.

“Someone trying to help you,” you breathe out.

“Doesn’t answer the question.”

The grip around your waist tightens. You want to laugh. As if you could’ve made a run for it in the first place. You tell him your name, and explain that you live alone. There’s no one else here but the two of you and you really do want to help.

“You were passed out on my fire escape. I couldn’t just leave you out there,” you explain cautiously.

The two of you stay like that for a minute longer. Then, a mechanical sigh sounds from behind you and the vice grip on your waist goes slack. You turn to him and see that he’s already halfway to your window.

“Hey! Wait! I can help!” you shout, scrambling after him.

“Don’t need it,” he snaps.

“You were bleeding out on my floor!” you exclaim.

You don’t know why you feel so strongly about this. Maybe because he seemed so…mortal. It’s easy to forget that these guys running around at night are people. They’re strong, tough, and capable, but they’re still human. The fact that he stumbles and has to catch himself on the window frame proves your point.

“Please. I promise I won’t take long. Please just let me help,” you beg.

He turns around and even through that unreadable helmet you can tell he’s sizing you up. You’re sure you must be a sight in your fuzzy white cat pajama pants, old Snoopy t-shirt, and fluffy white socks. Honestly, it’s a bit of a ridiculous tableau. Massive armed man in tactical gear opposite a woman in fluffy pajamas, both bloodstained. But either you seem harmless enough or he’s in exceptionally bad shape, because he just slumps against your wall and gives a barely noticeable nod of his head.

You go into autopilot the second you get his consent. A dining room chair is dragged to the center of your living room and Red Hood drops himself into it, the old wood creaking under the force. You go to assess the damage on his torso first. Light slashes litter his waist, none of them are deep enough for stitches. You grab the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls from the floor where you kneel before warning him that it might sting.

“I got slashed. Think that might’ve hurt a bit more,” he deadpans.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

The torso slashes are light work. It takes all of five minutes to disinfect them and seal them shut with bandages. It’s his thigh that you’re a little more concerned about. There’s enough blood that it’s soaked his tactical pants around where you’re guessing the wound is. You can vaguely make out what appears to be cut fabric, so you’re assuming he was stabbed.

“How deep did the knife go?” you ask.

“Hm. ‘Bout two inches?” he offers.

“Why’d you take it out?” you ask incredulously. Anyone with half a brain knew not to take a knife out of a stab wound.

“No idea. Should’ve just gone runnin’ around the city with a knife wedged in my leg.”

The mask’s modulator does nothing to hide the teasing edge to his voice. Of everything you’d heard about Red Hood, you’d never heard he was such a smartass.

“You know how to do stitches?” he asks.

Great. So he saw the deer-in-headlights look you had while thinking about how to fix his stab wound.

“If you count mending clothing then, uh, sure,” you reply.

The white slits of the helmet stare hard at you before a warped chuckle comes from under it.

“Well, close enough.”

Oh, so he liked to gamble with his health then. Okay. Sure. Great. You could totally do this. Untrained, unlicensed, unsupervised you. You have to stop your hands from shaking as you thread the curved needle. You have to stop yourself from vomiting with anxiety as you push the needle through his skin. He hisses and you immediately feel bad. He’d handled the alcohol without flinching, but the stitches were a different story. You whisper sorry’s with every puncture of his skin you make. Soon enough, his leg is closed up and the whole thing is said and done.

“Okay, should be good to go,” you start, “Well, not good per se, but functional to go.”

A hum and a quick nod of his head are the only response you get before he’s back on his feet. He’s about to climb out your window for the second time tonight when you call out to him again. He turns around and you’d swear he almost seems exasperated.

“Take these with you. You’ll probably need them,” you say as you toss him a water bottle and a small carton of orange juice.

He snatches them easily from the air. But then he just stands there and stares at the drinks in his hands. You think you may have somehow offended him and go to apologize when he speaks.

“Thanks,” he says, mechanical voice catching on the word.

And then he’s gone. Out your window and off into the night. Once you shut and lock the window you feel exhaustion hit you like a freight train. All the adrenaline drains from you and it takes whatever energy you have left to collapse on to your bed and drift off to sleep.

You’ll never know it, but the Red Hood spends the last fifteen minutes of his patrol sipping his orange juice and dutifully watching your apartment window.

You’ll never know it, but Jason Todd lingers across the street to make sure you get home from the grocery store safely, and he scoffs as he sees you feed and pet a stray dog. It’s silly, he thinks.

Don’t you know that now you’ve shown it some kindness, it’ll just keep coming back?

[r0-boat]

Sitri x AFAB!reader x Amy

They both fuck you

Cw: breeding, slight baby trapping(Sitri saying questionable things), porn with little plot, Threesome, spit roasting, arguing, slight choking.

Amy is calm and Sitri fucking loses it lol

You don't remember how you got here... Your poor cunt getting brutally fucked by a devil while the other devil who is arguing with him is stuffed in your mouth.

Wait...Yes you do.

You need a devil's energy, and since everyone in Gehenna Who could help you was in a meeting, You stumbled around your vision, getting dizzy as your breath grew shallow, trying to find anyone in the castle. Anyone! You are so desperate. You could even feel The heat pulling between your legs as your body screamed at you to find someone.

Trying to focus on steadying yourself, You didn't notice the big figure in front of you. You ran face first into him, You swore you feel your head bounce off his chest.

"HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING!" The man snaps, but his eyes widen when he recognizes you. "Oh! I-I'm sorry. Please, you have to be more careful." His voice went from loud and demanding to soft and gentle in seconds.

But you don't answer as you try to keep your body from passing out. You cling onto the devil, your fingers digging into his white uniform that was half hazard tossed on his otherwise bare chest. You could almost recognize his voice, but you were too weak to think about it. The demon caught you in his arms as you almost collapsed.

"Oh fuck! h-hey take it easy! Are you okay?"

He asks as if you didn't just almost pass out.

"Oh yeah, you must be Solomon's child... Oh fuck. Shit! You don't look so good!"In preparation for scenarios like this, Satan informed everyone of your condition just in case you happen to be out and about and you need emergency devil's energy. Amy knew how urgent this was because he knew how important you were to Satan.

"So I just gotta put my dick in you, and you'll feel better? Okay, piece of cake."Amy muttered because he lifted you into his arms. He left papers he had prepared for the meeting scattered on the floor. Amy ran down the hall as fast as he could, cradling you in his arms in the first room he found clean and vacant. He practically kicks down the door, laying you on the couch.

Immediately, he begins tripping his clothing. He wasn't hard, not yet, But he did feel a little buzz looking at you, You're flushed face, and you're rising and falling chest, Your clothes that hugged your body just right yet leaving some for the imagination. Fuck... The two of you have interacted much, Not as much as Leraye or Piemon or even damn Sitri. But he knew why Satan liked you. Oh, he could absolutely see it.

His hands gently caress you as if stalling to rip your clothes off. He could feel heat flush to his face. You open your eyes seeing a familiar figure. "Amy, please... I need you so bad," You whisper in a breathy tone that stole his away. He nods his big hands beginning to strip you slowly.

It's been so long since he had been with anyone, let alone another human. They had different parts than the one he used to sleep with. Then a penis they had folds that looked rather inviting and quite tasty...

His body moved on his own as he left your legs up to run his tongue across your cunt. One lick, and you buck your hips, finally feeling some relief you desperately craved, but it's not enough. "Please, more!" You whine. Your fingers dig into Amy's locks, pulling him into you, which he happily lets you. His tongue slides inside your folds, and his eyes roll back at your taste.

'So sweet... So good...'

It wasn't before long that your juices so his tongue. He holds you gently yet firmly as he slurps at your gushing. He didn't even realize how close you were until your sweet juices flooded his mouth. His horns and cock were drooling, and his mouth was glistening with your cum. He licked his lips as he crawled on top of you. His lips meet yours as you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Tell me if it hurts. Please," He says. You nod. Your hands dig into his shoulders, bracing yourself as you watch his huge cock slowly begin to press itself inside you. When his cock glides inside you, you watch as Amy tilts his head up, His tongue rolling out at the tight squeeze. You wrap your legs around him, and being inside you becomes torture for Amy, but still, he is waiting, scared that if you move too soon, he might break you. But you are not having it. You needed his 'devil's energy' and you needed it now. "Move Amy!" You demanded, which startled him, but he nodded, moving his hips slowly at first until he started picking up the pace, a nice sensual, deep pace, each thrust going so deep, brushing against every spot, making your toes curl. It had been so long for the devil. He was a lot closer than he thought he would be. He tries to hold on and make you come first before he explodes inside you. He licks, sucks, and bites your neck, his hands running over and touching, manhandling your body, His rough hands scraping against your soft skin. You tighten around him and come on his cock, feeling your tight squeeze. He gives in, filling your cunt up with delicious devil's energy.

Amy holds you to his chest. He smiles at you. He opens his mouth to speak, but the door bursts again. A very familiar blue-haired devil stares at the both of you... In his office... On his couch, naked, smelling of sex. Hearing your heart pounding in your chest, he couldn't tell if it was from sex or the fact he caught the both of you.

"Explain." A single word falls from his lips, his tone just as icy as his gaze as he glares down at the both of you. Amy glared back, cradling you in his arms as if protecting you. Finally, coming back to your senses You fully recognize where you are and what's going on You take a deep breath, and your eyes widen, stunned for a moment. You stutter, trying to form words, but Amy cuts you off. "I found them in the hallway They looked awful and they needed devil's energy if I wasn't there they would have died."

Sitri gives you an unreadable expression. His eyes widen, but his face is blank. He looks at both you and Amy. You could steal your heart, jumping out of your chest as you see Sitri clutching his fist and his fingers digging into his palms.

"Solomon."

He smiles, saying his nickname for you in a sing-song tone. The click of his shoes fills your ears as he steps closer.

"You want more right?"

In one hand movement he rips Amy off of you throwing him to the ground.

"Because I can't imagine a devil-like this satisfying you!" He growls, ripping his clothes off; his eyes are wild with burning anger, lust, and hot jealousy. Amy could only watch from the floor as Sitri grabbed you roughly, pinning you to the arm of the couch. You let out a loud, sharp squeal feeling his cock enter you in one thrust. Amy watched your eyes roll back as Sitri's pace was immediately rough and fast.

"This is how you satisfy Solomon!" He hisses through his teeth. "I know them better than anyone to know that they like being fucked like a cheap whore!"

Amy wanted to help you. His heart raced at how rough his rival was treating you, but at the same time, he didn't want to be left in the dust. He didn't want to sit by and watch as Sitri took you from him. And with your mouth occupied, drooling as you stare down at him, licking your lips, how could he not give you what you're so desperately asking?

He could feel his cock already hardening once again as he stood up. Your eyes light up as his dick dangles in front of your face. You open your mouth obediently; Amy nuzzles his fingers in your hair as he slowly pushes his dick in your mouth.

Sitri was quick to notice. "That's why you'll never satisfy them like I do, too gentle, too soft! You're lucky that I'm letting your diseased dick even near them!"

Your eyes flash a little bit as you feel Amy's cock twitch in your mouth as Amy growls back. "You're too rough! If this is how you treat them, then you'll be the reason why they go back to Earth!"

Sitri lets out a dark, crazed chuckle that makes you clench. "They will not leave me. I will not let them; I will trap them here any means necessary-!"

He leans down, whispering into your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat, feeling your pulse along with the stretch of your throat around Amy's shaft. "If I have to breed you, pump you full of my spawn, then so be it!"

Your eyes roll back. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered something so heinous, so dark, so delicious You go over the edge, and coming on his cock, your orgasm rips through you as you moan on Amy's dick. You milk Sitri as he explodes inside your pussy. His hips are still deep inside you, making sure you take every last drop of his seed.

And Amy feels your throat vibrate against his cock. He cums, sinking his teeth into his lips, trying failing not to moan too loud as he grinds into your face. You eagerly drink up every last drop of warm demonic seed going into your belly.

Three of you collapse, shuffling to the couch to demons on either side, their hands on your thighs, touching you and snuggling against your body.

For the first time, they did not argue; they just sat there enjoying your company, too tired to say anything negative towards each other.

[oaksgrove]

A Life Left Behind

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x ex!Reader, John Price x Reader

Synopsis: When Price accidentally lets it slip at a pub that he has a missus waiting at home, Simon never suspects it could be you. That is, until a snowy Christmas Eve, when fate leads him past a warmly lit window, where the life he could’ve had reveals itself in full, devastating clarity.

Warnings: Heavy angst, themes of regret and break up, bittersweet holiday vibes.

Word Count: 1214

a/n: I’ve had this idea swirling in my head for a while—it’s pure heartbreak with a festive backdrop. English isn’t my first language, and this was witten in a rush, so thank you for your patience and all the support on my writing!

Manchester, UK. october | 9:20PM | 8°C

The vanilla scent of your favorite candle hung in the air, bittersweet against the tension suffocating the room. It reminded Simon of softer nights—of the evenings you spent curled together on the couch, your laughter filling the silence he’d grown so accustomed to before you. The thought was fleeting, a warm ember snuffed out by the cold reality that now stood between you.

You stood by the kitchen counter, arms crossed defensively, your eyes a mix of anger and hurt. Simon loomed near the window, his shoulders hunched as though bracing himself for a blow.

“Say something, Simon,” you demanded, your voice raw with emotion. “Anything.”

He didn’t move at first, his gaze fixed on the street outside. His jaw tightened, the cords of muscle twitching under his skin. “What do you want me to say?” he finally asked, his voice low, restrained—like he was holding back a flood.

You stepped closer, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I want you to tell me this isn’t real. That you don’t mean it when you say it’s better if we break up.”

For a moment, his mask slipped. The conflict in his eyes was like a storm on the horizon—rage, sadness, and guilt all warring beneath the surface. Then he shut it down, closing himself off again. “It is better,” he said, his voice faltering before he hardened it.

“For who, Simon?” Your voice cracked, frustration mingling with the ache in your chest. “Because it sure as hell isn’t for me.”

“For you,” he replied, firmer this time. “You deserve someone who can give you more than this—more than me.”

You could only stare at him, disbelief giving way to anger. “You don’t get to decide that for me! I knew what I was getting into, and I’m here, Simon. I chose you!”

His hand went to the back of his neck, a frustrated gesture you’d seen countless times. “I can’t keep doing this to you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t see it now, but you’ll be better off without me.”

Your mind flooded with memories—of Simon’s quiet presence grounding you after bad days, of his rare, unguarded moments of laughter that felt like secrets shared just between the two of you. The way he would silently slip your favorite mug into your hands during cold mornings, the weight of his arm around you as you fell asleep.

“Do you even hear yourself?” you whispered, desperation creeping into your voice. “You’re pushing me away because you think it’s what’s best for me? You’re not even giving me a choice.”

His silence was deafening, his eyes locked on the floor like he couldn’t bear to meet your gaze.

“I hope you believe that one day,” you said, grabbing your coat.

Your feet carried you to the door, and your hand hesitated on the knob. You wanted him to call out, to fight for you, to prove that this wasn’t just another wall he was building. But he didn’t.

You glanced back, and for a moment, he looked as though he might break—his fists clenched, his body taut with tension. But then his gaze dropped, and the words that could have saved you both never came.

“Goodbye, Simon.”

The door clicked shut behind you, and the cold October air wrapped around you as you walked away. Your legs moved on autopilot, but your mind stayed trapped in the warmth of the memories you were leaving behind.

The time he stayed up with you after your first fight, awkwardly holding your hand as he whispered, “I’m not good at this, but I’ll try.” The way he watched you with something close to wonder the night you wore his hoodie, laughing at his terrible attempt at making pancakes. The rare nights he let you in—told you stories of his childhood, of the people he lost. The first time he said, “I don’t deserve you,” and you kissed him before he could finish.

The sound of your own footsteps became unbearable, each one taking you further away from a man who couldn’t see that he was already everything you needed.

The Old Wellington - Manchester, UK. 1 year later, august | 9:45PM | 10°C

The pub buzzed with life, the comforting chaos of clinking glasses and laughter filling the air. Simon sat in the corner, detached, his untouched whiskey warming in his hand. His team’s voices faded into the background as his thoughts wandered to the edges of places he’d been avoiding.

Soap’s voice boomed above the noise, mid-story and gesturing wildly. “And then, just as the guy thinks he’s outsmarted us, the bloody fence gives way and—bam! Flat on his arse!”

Gaz burst into laughter, his grin wide. “You’ve got to be making that up.”

Price leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “It’s true. I was there.”

Simon stared into his glass, barely hearing the conversation. Soap nudged him with an elbow. “Oi, Ghost, are you alive in there?”

Simon glanced up, forcing a faint smirk. “Listening to you lot’s more entertaining than talking.”

“Sure it is,” Soap teased, raising his glass.

Price set his drink down, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got to go. It’s already late, missus is waiting for me at home.”

Soap nearly choked on his beer. “Wait a minute. You’ve got a missus? Since when?”

Gaz leaned forward, grinning. “Yeah, Cap. You’ve been holding out on us!”

“She likes her privacy,” Price replied with a shrug, a soft edge to his voice. “But yeah, I’ve got a missus.”

Simon’s grip on his glass tightened. The word missus hit him like a shot, sharp and precise, leaving a dull ache in its wake.

“What’s she like?” Soap asked, clearly intrigued.

Price’s expression softened as he thought about her. “She’s… everything, really. Smart, kind, funny. Keeps me on my toes.”

“She sounds like a saint, putting up with you,” Soap teased with a laugh.

Simon’s chest tightened at the word saint. The thought surfaced before he could stop it. My girl was a saint too…

He swallowed hard, his grip on the glass like a lifeline. He pictured you in his mind—your patience, your warmth, the way you’d look at him like he wasn’t the sum of his mistakes. He’d told himself a thousand times that he’d let you go for your own good, but here he was, haunted by memories he couldn’t shake.

“She is,” Price admitted with a rare smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Simon looked away, draining his whiskey in one gulp. The burn was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.

“You good?” Price asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Simon straightened, forcing himself to appear calm. “Just remembered something I’ve got to take care of.”

He stood abruptly, tossing some cash on the table. “Catch you later.”

He left before anyone could question him, stepping out into the cold night air. The sharp chill bit at his skin, but it wasn’t enough to distract him.

She was a saint, wasn’t she? The thought lingered, twisting the knife. But he didn’t deserve saints. He never had.

Manchester, UK. 2 years later, december | 9:45PM | 6°C

Christmas had arrived, cloaking the streets of Manchester in a pristine layer of snow. The world felt hushed, the crunch of Simon’s boots against the frozen ground the only sound in the quiet night. His breath puffed in soft clouds, dissolving into the still air.

He hadn’t planned to be here—hadn’t even realized where his aimless wandering had taken him until he found himself on a familiar street. The glow of your living room window caught his eye, and before he could stop himself, he was standing there, looking in.

The scene inside was alive with warmth. Golden light spilled over the living room, illuminating a Christmas tree laden with ornaments. You stood beside it, a delicate bauble in your hand, your laughter bright as it mingled with the joyous chaos of two young boys crawling around the tree.

Simon’s gaze shifted. Price was there, standing close to you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. The easy intimacy between you spoke volumes—a language Simon once knew but had long forgotten.

His chest tightened, the ache sharp and familiar. He stood frozen, his breath catching as a memory surfaced unbidden: you, sitting beside him on a cold night like this, your hand in his as you talked about the future. A future he’d convinced himself he couldn’t give you.

Now, here it was, vivid and real—but it wasn’t his.

You turned then, your eyes meeting his through the frosted glass. The moment stretched, fragile and heavy with unspoken words. Your expression softened, a bittersweet smile forming as if you understood everything he couldn’t say.

Simon’s gloved hand brushed the glass, the chill biting through the leather. For a fleeting second, he let himself imagine what it would feel like to step inside, to join the warmth instead of watching from the cold.

But he knew better.

He nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible gesture, before stepping back. The snow crunched softly beneath his boots as he turned away, his silhouette fading into the quiet night.

The ache lingered, but as he walked, it shifted—no longer a weight that dragged him down, but something softer, bearable. You were happy. That was enough.

The falling snow blurred his footprints behind him, erasing the path he’d taken to get here. Simon didn’t look back, his lips twitching into a faint smile. For the first time in years, he felt the beginnings of peace. Because some losses, though painful, could eventually feel like victories when love found its way to where it belonged.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.

so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.

it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.

you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.

he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.

but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.

he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.

“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”

simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.

“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.

“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.

“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.

you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.

your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.

“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.

he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.

“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.

“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.

he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.

“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.

“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.

you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”

his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.

“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.

he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.

he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.

he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.

“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”

he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.

simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.

“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”

you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.

“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”

his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.

you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.

he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.

JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER

[disneyprincemuke]

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[venuzasmuse]

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐓

ellie with a reader that has a cat!

oh my god i’ve been meditating on this idea for so long

warnings: none. just ellie with a cat because they’re two things i love most in this world.

❀ i feel like in a modern au, ellie would lovelovelove animals and she’d jump at any opportunity to pet any dog she sees but she probably had some weird, bad experience with a cat when she was younger and just was not that fond of them.

❀ UNTIL. she met you.

❀ the two of you have been dating for a while and you decided to invite her over for once after only really going to her apartment on the days / nights y’all would be together.

❀ all is well and you’re turning your keys in the lock, too immersed in the oh so interesting conversation the two of you are in that you don’t even notice your pet leaping towards the two of you.

❀ her eyes would turn into saucers and she’d let out a really high pitched yelp before masking it with a cough to not look like a fool in front of you.

❀ initially, ellie is caught off guard.

❀ you never mentioned that you had a cat despite having been together for a few weeks. you’re so excited to see your furry friend and she’s just kinda standing there like 🧍‍♀️because like i said, she probably had some random traumatizing experience with cats when she was younger and engaging with them again just never crossed her mind.

❀ your cat is the sweetest baby in the whole wide world and after some warming up to her, ellie literally falls in love with your cat. i’m talking, she cannot stop holding her and loving on her.

❀ ellie didn’t really know how to pet her at first. she’d awkwardly rub her hand over your cats head and you’d just fizzle out into a puddle of giggles, trying to demonstrate how to.

“baby- no— here look. like this.”

❀ and you cat loves her too. you practically have to pry her off of ellie when she decides she in fact cannot sleepover that night.

❀ as your relationship together grows, so does her love for your cat.

❀ once y’all get to a comfortable stage of your relationship, you end up giving her spare key to your apartment and there’d be times where she’d literally just be there without you and you wouldn’t know until you walk in from a long night at work, and she’s just passed out and splayed across your bed with your cat perched up on her chest, sleeping.

❀ the way ellie plays with your cat is she’d pretend to be hurt when it playfully bites her and shakes it when it doesn’t let go of her.

❀ whenever y’all are running errands together, she’d randomly find a toy, even if it’s not a cat toy, and throw it in the cart without saying a word.

❀ she just knows your cat would love it. it’s her maternal instincts.

❀ is the type to give into whatever your cat wants. her food? fine. a random bracelet your cat just randomly starts to latch it’s teeth onto? it’s got it now, there’s no turn back.

❀ when y’all are laid up together after a long night, your cat would try to slot itself in between y’all and she’d just move it repeatedly until it settles on the spot near her neck and just lays on her.

❀ she’s so tired she wouldn’t even react to it. she’d just let the cat slowly suffocate her in her sleep.

❀ would randomly send you pictures of your cat attacking the camera and it’d be from the funniest angles ever.

❀ hella .5 pictures will also be sent and taken.

❀ that’s basically what her entire camera roll consists of.

❀ just you and your cat.

[xannsin]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐃 ᯓ★ 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐙

précis: you and nicholas fell apart, the two of you simply wanted different things. months later, you’re sure about wanting one thing in common.

a/n: hey! i’m back, i’m very sorry for my absence, i do have a ton of responsibilities and unfortunately took a lengthy break but i’m working on a ton of writes for all of you!

warning: +18, minors dni, penetrative sex, creampie, sexual praise, overstimulation, unprotected sex

enjoy!

The relationship between you and Nicholas is strained.

When you were together in your early twenties, it felt like everything was possible. Until it wasn’t. You wanted the whole picture: house, rings, maybe a kid someday. Nicholas? He wanted out. Out of your tiny apartment. Out of your careful plans. Out into the world where he could be whoever the hell he wanted. And he got it. That bastard climbed the ladder so fast it was dizzying.

The breakup wasn’t even dramatic. Just him sitting at the edge of the bed, running his stupid hands through his stupid messy hair, sighing like it physically hurt him to talk.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said, his voice low but clear, like it had already been rehearsed.

You stared at him, dumbfounded, because what the actual fuck. “Do what?”

“Play house.” He looked up then, those half-lidded brown eyes unreadable, his jaw locked tight. “You deserve someone who… I don’t know. Gives a shit about marriage and brunch and—whatever. That’s not me.”

And that was it. He left you like that—angry, confused, and clutching onto your shared dreams like a sucker.

Months later, you were doing fine. Or fine enough. Until the call came. A sleek-sounding assistant from some hotel agency left a voicemail, sweetly confirming your reservation for the weekend. Which was hilarious because you didn’t make one.

Except you had. Well, Nicholas had. Back when you were together. It was supposed to be this grand romantic getaway, but he’d apparently forgotten to cancel it. You debated ignoring it. But curiosity is a real bitch, and the idea of lounging in a fancy-ass suite alone? Tempting.

You didn’t expect to see him there. Which is why, when the elevator doors opened to reveal Nicholas Chavez—tan skin, broad everything, and wearing a wrinkled t-shirt like it was designer—you screamed. Not in terror, but pure, unfiltered what the fuck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you yelled, wide-eyed, already regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.

He stared at you like you were the weird one, his eyebrows lifting just a fraction. “What am I doing here? This was my plan!” His voice was still annoyingly calm, with that slight Cuban lilt that came out when he was caught off guard.

“Your plan?” You jabbed a finger at his chest—hard. “Your dumbass forgot to cancel this, so they called me!”

He blinked, slowly, because of course he was the kind of guy who could take a verbal beatdown without flinching. “Fuck,” he muttered finally, rubbing the back of his neck.

And just like that, the tension cracked. You both laughed, loud and stupid, because it was ridiculous. You hated him, but also… you didn’t. Because beneath the stoic, sarcastic exterior was the same guy who once wanted to take you here. Maybe just for a moment, you could remember that. Or maybe you’d just spend the weekend screaming at each other. Either way, it was already too late to back out.

The laughter died off, but the awkwardness lingered like a bad smell. You couldn’t quite figure out what to do next. Storm past him? Push him out of the elevator? Or just turn back and get the hell out of there? Nicholas stood there, leaning casually against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest like he had all the time in the world. His half-lidded eyes scanned your face—always calculating, always trying to figure out what move you were going to make before you even knew yourself.

“So,” he said finally, voice low and calm, “you gonna stand there all day, or are you coming in?”

You blinked. “Coming in? Are you serious right now?”

He shrugged, that lazy smirk creeping onto his annoyingly perfect face. “Look, I’m not going to fight you for the room. I forgot to cancel it. That’s on me. But if you’re here, you might as well enjoy it.”

“What a gentleman,” you muttered, brushing past him into the suite.

The place was ridiculous. Plush carpets, floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city that looked like it belonged in a movie. And the bed? Huge. Like, offensively huge. Of course Nicholas would have booked a place like this. He always had a knack for things that looked effortless but cost a fortune.

“You seriously came here alone?” you asked, turning to face him.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter now, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. He wasn’t looking at you, just scrolling through his screen like he couldn’t be bothered. “Yeah. Why?”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Because this was supposed to be a romantic trip. What were you gonna do? Have a candlelit dinner for one?”

He finally looked up, his expression flat. “I don’t see the point in wasting a good reservation just because we broke up.”

“Jesus, Nick.” You shook your head, dropping your bag onto the nearest chair. “You’re unreal.”

“Thanks,” he said, deadpan, before tossing his phone onto the counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Want one?”

You glared at him. “What I want is to not be stuck in a luxury hotel suite with my ex-boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well,” he cracked the cap off his water and took a swig, “life’s full of disappointments.”

You hated him. You really did. Or at least you wanted to. But then he went and did that thing—where his voice softened, just a fraction, and his eyes, half-lidded and calm, gave you that unreadable look that always made your stomach flip.

“Look,” he said, leaning against the counter, his tone quieter now. “We can fight all weekend if you want. Or we can just… not. Your call.”

You wanted to fight. God, you wanted to yell at him, to drag up every shitty thing he ever did, every late-night argument, every time he’d brushed you off with that maddening stoicism. But standing there, looking at him—broad shoulders, messy hair, tired eyes—you realized you didn’t have the energy to.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Truce.”

“Truce,” he echoed, raising his water bottle in a mock toast.

The first few hours were… weird. You avoided each other, mostly. You hung out in the living room while he stayed in the bedroom, and for a while, it almost felt like you weren’t sharing the space at all. But, of course, that didn’t last.

It was late—almost midnight—when you wandered into the kitchen for a snack and found Nicholas sitting at the counter, scrolling through his phone again. He looked up when you walked in, his brown eyes sharp even in the low light.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours.

You shrugged, opening the fridge. “Too quiet.”

He chuckled softly—just a huff of air through his nose. “Ironic, coming from you.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, grabbing a bottle of wine and holding it up. “Want some?”

He tilted his head, considering. “Sure. Why not.”

You didn’t expect it, but the two of you ended up sitting on the floor of the suite, leaning against the couch, passing the bottle back and forth like a couple of college kids. And for the first time in months, it didn’t feel strained. It felt… easy.

“Do you ever think about it?” you asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Think about what?”

“Us,” you said, waving the bottle vaguely. “What happened. Why it went to shit.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the floor, his jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about it.”

“And?”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his messy hair. “And… I don’t know. Maybe I fucked up. Or maybe we just wanted different things.”

You frowned, staring at him. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

He met your gaze then, his brown eyes soft but guarded. “What do you want me to say? That I regret it? That I wish I’d stayed? I don’t know if I do. But I know I didn’t handle it right. And I know I hurt you. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t much. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

The next few days unfolded like an awkward dance neither of you really wanted to be a part of, but here you were, stuck in this stupid hotel suite, both pretending it wasn’t all too familiar. The truce held, but it was fragile. There was an air of tension that lingered in every room, especially when the two of you were alone. Every glance was a little too long, every word a little too sharp, and yet neither of you could walk away from it. There was an undeniable pull, like the universe was mocking you for still being tied to each other in some way.

One night, after an uncomfortable dinner in the hotel’s overpriced restaurant, you found yourself back in the suite. Nicholas was sprawled on the couch, his arms thrown behind his head, casually flipping through channels like you didn’t just have a conversation that felt like two strangers trying to fill the empty space between them. You, on the other hand, were too wound up, pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights twinkled below, casting a faint glow that made the whole room feel surreal.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet if you keep pacing like that,” Nicholas muttered, not even looking at you. His voice was as disinterested as ever, but you could hear that hint of amusement in his tone, like he enjoyed getting under your skin.

You shot him a glance, your eyes narrowing. “I’m thinking, alright? Can’t I think without you making sarcastic comments?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, the sarcasm oozing from every word. “I’ll stop. Wouldn’t want to ruin your moment of clarity.”

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, you took a deep breath, walking to the other side of the room and standing still for a second. “Why are you here?” You asked it before you could stop yourself, and the question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

Nicholas didn’t flinch, just let out a sigh, his eyes flicking to you briefly. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just stared at you like he was sizing you up. His lips twisted into that usual smirk, but this time it wasn’t quite as mocking. There was something else in it—something real, maybe even vulnerable, but he hid it behind his usual stoic expression.

“Why do you think I’m here?” His voice was quieter now, not the usual sarcasm laced with a challenge.

Your stomach flipped. You hated how easily he could do that to you—make you feel like he was reading you from the inside out, even when he said nothing. “I don’t know,” you muttered, crossing your arms, trying to look indifferent. “I guess I thought you didn’t give a shit about me anymore.”

Nicholas sat up then, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the TV. “I never said that.” His voice was low, serious, and when you looked at him again, he was closer. Closer than before, but it wasn’t an invitation to fight. It was something else.

“Look, we… we fucked this up, okay?” he said, his eyes softening just enough that you could see the regret hidden under that layer of arrogance. “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but I didn’t want to lose you, either.”

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, because for all his quiet moments and sarcastic jabs, that admission hit you harder than you wanted it to. “Don’t,” you whispered, the words coming out hoarse. “Just don’t… make it worse.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and you both stood there, inches apart but still worlds away. Then, in a rare moment of self-awareness, Nicholas moved slowly, his hand reaching out as if to make sure you wouldn’t pull away.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t some sudden, passionate moment where everything exploded. No, it was slow, careful, as if he was waiting for you to pull back, to shove him away, to tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, letting his lips press softly against yours, a little tentative at first. His lips were warm, surprisingly soft, and for a second, you forgot how much you hated him. Or maybe you didn’t hate him. Maybe, in that moment, it was just two people who couldn’t figure it out, but still needed each other.

When he pulled away, it was barely an inch, his breath mingling with yours. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the softness of his hand still resting on your arm, the warmth of his body so close.

“Still mad at me?” he asked quietly, his voice rougher now, like the moment had undone something in him.

You didn’t answer immediately, just looked at him—his messy brown hair falling over his forehead, his sharp jawline, and those goddamn brown eyes that always seemed to see right through you. You wanted to hate him for making it so hard, for fucking up so many times. But you couldn’t. Not when he was here, looking at you like maybe he was finally seeing you for the first time in a long time.

“No,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But you’re still a fucking asshole.”

He smirked at that, and it felt like a little bit of the tension between you two broke, just enough to let you both breathe. “I’ll take it,” he said, leaning in again, but this time it was different. There was no hesitation. No more apologies. It was just you and him, in this stupid hotel room, with no answers but maybe something else—something neither of you could deny anymore.

And when his lips met yours again, it wasn’t slow this time. It wasn’t careful. It was urgent, real, like neither of you knew what the hell you were doing but were too tired to care anymore.

“This okay?” He murmured against your lips, his hands gently tangling in your hair. “Mhm,” You whine quietly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he picked you up. He carried you to that behemoth of a bed and set you down before getting on top of you, careful not to smush you. “You sure you’re okay with this.” He says, asking, but confirming with statement at the same time. You nod in response, and he gently continues, grabbing your jaw, moving your head upwards to pepper kisses on your neck.

Your body instinctively responds, your arms wrapping around him as you let out the softest, faintest moans at the sensations on your neck. You hear that familiar unzip of his jeans that you so desperately missed. You work at taking off yours, shimmying slightly out of your tight jeans before discarding the fabric onto the floor. You do the same with your blouse.

You watch as Nicholas was only in boxers, having already taken off his jeans and shirt. You could see the tent in his boxers, basically throbbing for escape from the tight fabric. You gently reach out, your hand hesitant, but it settled on the thick bulge. Nicholas’ body went taut, his hands steadying himself on both sides of your head. “You okay?” You whispered, your hands gently working his bulge. He just nodded quickly before swallowing thickly, his eyes closing as your hand went lower, cupping his clothed sac. He exhaled softly, his bottom lip twitching slightly with the effort of holding back a soft moan.

Your hand moved up, falling onto the hem of his boxers. You looked up at him, silently asking for permission. He opened his eyes before looking down at you through half-lidded eyes before nodding a soft yes.

You gently peel his boxers down, his dick jumping out and immediately slapping against your bare thigh. He looked down in between your bodies, and so did you. You hadn’t seen his bare body in a while. His length was really girthy, at least 10 inches long, veiny, mushroom-tipped, throbbing, and aching to be inside of you. His tip wept pre-cum, it needed its release. Well — he did.

He moved your panties to the side of your thigh with his thumb, looking down at your bare, leaking pussy. He looked up at you before slowly grinning, “You’re beautiful.” You shake your head modestly, “Sure.” He rolls his eyes at your humility, “Just accept the damn compliment.”

His thumb gently touched your little bundle of nerves, gently rubbing it in slow circled, eliciting a small whimper from you. He knew how to make you twitch. Whimper. Whine. Shake. Cum. Your legs trembled as he worked your clit with his fingers, his middle finger finding your neglected, small hole. “Feels like it shrunk. You haven’t had sex in a while, have you?”

“Not since you, no.” You muttered through strained breaths, and pleasured winces. “Mm.” He hummed softly, adding more pressure, but not enough. On purpose. You were whimpering needily, your whines being more pleading than they needed to. He spoke after a moment, “Don’t worry, gonna get what you want.”

“Eventually.”

You frowned slightly, but you were too breathless to protest. You whined as he pulled his hand away, but he tutted softly. “Patience, pretty girl.”

He reached down, his hand finding his throbbing cock. He pulled you closer to him with his other hand, comfortably settling himself in between your legs. “Comfy?” He asked, and you nodded in response. He slowly stroked his tip along your slit, eliciting a gasp from you. He did that almost-grin, half-lidded eye combination that made your stomach flutter. He kept his dick positioned correctly with his right hand, and he was gently holding you down, steadying you, with his left. “I’m gonna start slow.” He muttered breathily.

“Okay,” You gasped, mentally preparing yourself for the stretch you’re about to feel. You hadn’t felt him inside of you for months, so this was probably going to hurt a bi—

“Shit…”

You winced quietly as you felt his thick tip slide inside of your pussy, the sensation overwhelming. You writhed under him, as if trying to get away, but you really didn’t want to get away. It was just hard to take it. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here,” Nicholas lulled, continuing to slowly ease himself inside of your pussy. His goal was to be buried to the hilt inside of you, and he was going to achieve that.

He began thrusting into you with more confidence, yet purposefully making them sloppy and slightly uncoordinated. His sole objective was making you feel good. And he was doing a damn good job at it. You were practically drooling at this point, his shaft sliding in and out of your wet cunt at an almost rapid pace. He was forcing himself to fit. He hit spots that were making you cry out in pleasure, gasping for air. “Shh, I got you, I got you,” He whispered in between gasps, his balls smacking against your ass with every thrust he made.

The bed didn’t creak once, you’ll give it that. It was a sturdy ass bed. Nicholas was pounding into you by now, working on hitting those spots that made you feel good. Your tiny hole stretches so beautifully as his thick shaft slides in and out, the small, subtle bulge just below your stomach showing just how far he reaches inside of you. His fingers traced circles over your hip, his own hips working on pumping his dick in and out of you. But they were already stuttering.

The room filled with the smell of sex, skin smacking against skin, and the sheets shifting under weight.

You missed those small, subtle whimpers Nicholas made when he was close. They felt like memories you never had the opportunity to make reality more than just a few times. You’re glad you’re reliving it — not just the sex, but what lies deeper. The pure intimacy behind it, what sex really expresses between you both. Being loved again feels… good. If not, great.

Maybe great is an understatement too.

Nicholas huffs heavily as he feels your pussy gripping his cock like a vice, contracting rapidly. He slows down because he can sense the impending release on not just him, but you too. You gasped heavily as you felt your release. Nicholas’ hips stuttered, your legs trembled, and there it was.

Nicholas’ hot seed poured inside of you, not letting any go to waste. He weakly pulled out, sighing softly. He collapsed next to you on the bed, the two of you panting. He slung his arm around your waist before pulling you closer, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Y’know,” You start, still catching your breath, “I’m glad this happened. Us reuniting unexpectedly all because you forgot to cancel a ticket.”

“Huh? Oh. No, I knew you’d come.” Nicholas said after a beat flatly, completely serious.

Well then.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

Can we turn back time?

Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.

Summary: ^^ Requested

A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

**

Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?

“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.

“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.

His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.

“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”

“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.

She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?

His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”

“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.

“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.

“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.

“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.

“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.

She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.

She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.

**

It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.

She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.

She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.

Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.

It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.

It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.

She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.

**

“199 what is your emergency?”

“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“

“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”

“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.

He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.

She looked familiar tho, he thought.

“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.

“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.

It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.

**

“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.

He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.

When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.

He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.

He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.

He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.

“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.

He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.

“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“

“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.

“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.

“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.

All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.

______

Don’t forget to reblog😋

[gay-dorito-dust]

I don’t know if you have this but please can i request headcandons of the spiderverse Boys with their lover reader wearing their (spider boys) clothing like a hoodie or a t shirt?

Miles thought he had stopped breathing when he saw you wear the jacket he has been searching high and low for the past fifteen minutes.

He had been wanting to see you in his clothes but the poor boy didn’t know how to say it without tripping and stumbling awkwardly over his words like a new born baby deer.

‘Hey, have you seen my jacket-‘ his words faltered and then later died on his lips when he raised his eyes as he entered his room, only to see you wearing the very jacket he had been searching high and low for. ‘You’re wearing it.’ His voice cracked and out of embarrassment Miles cleared his throat and tried again. ‘You’re- You’re wearing it.’

You smiled at him, finding his attempts in keeping his cool amusing, especially when it was doing something small like wearing his clothes but you couldn’t help yourself! The jacket was still somewhat warm from previous use and smelt like him, which brought you comfort for the days where he couldn’t always be with you as it felt as though you had a part of him always with you. Though it doesn’t compare to actually having Miles with you, it still brought you a sense of relief and security that you always get when with the young lad.

‘Did you want it back?’ You asked, about to take it off when Miles exclaimed ‘no!’ Making you both jump with how loud it came out but made you both laugh none the less. ‘I mean, no, keep it on as long as you want. You look great in it.’ Miles admits, running the back of his neck, highly aware of the heat radiating within of every part of his body, from the tips of his ears to his chest and even to his feet, as though it was going to burn him from the inside out.

‘Just great?’ You teased, brows raised.

‘Did I say great? I meant you look beautiful, handsome, pretty, beautiful, cosy, comfy.’ Miles rambled and you knew you had to intervene before he hurts himself, which lead you to walk towards him and hold his face in your hands, internally melting when his beautiful doe brown eyes looked into yours as though they’re the only thing grounding him right now. ‘Relax, I’m only teasing babe.’ You reassured him, thumbs stroking his cheeks as means of calming him down. ‘Now are you comfortable with me wearing your stuff because I can stop if you want.’

Just when you were about to pulls your hands away from his face so you could remove and hand back his jacket, Miles placed his hands over yours, keeping them glued to his face as he looked at you adoringly. ‘It doesn’t bother me at all.’ He tells you. ‘In fact it makes me really happy just seeing you in my stuff,’ he chuckles to himself. ‘I swear it feels as though I’m still dreaming sometimes.’ He finishes.

Miles loves it when you wear his clothes as it means that even when you were apart, you’re thinking about him, always and wishing for his safe return. He feels loved, extremely loved.

Pavitr’s day is immediately made a thousand times better when he notices that you’ve been wearing his clothes. He fucking adores it so much to the point that he’s already making plans on just letting you use his wardrobe at your disposal.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad day because seeing you in his clothes even on days where he’s mentally, emotionally and physically okay, he’s automatically made even more chipper and happy to the point he will not shut up about his rant on how cute and adorable you look in his shirt.

He’s talking about a mile a minute that you were starting to get concerned when you saw he wasn’t stopping for breath. When he does remember to breath, you were able to realise the breath that you didn’t know that you had been withholding yourself.

Probably has a multitude of pictures of you wearing his clothes and might’ve made one his lock/Home Screen or maybe both, so that when he was doing his spider-man stuff, he’d be reminded that you were waiting for you Pav to come back safe and sound.

He will shamelessly scream it from the rooftops that you were wearing his clothes and say loud enough for all those within the radius to hear. He’s not ashamed in the slightest and will brag about it until he can’t no more. His friends, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Margo were often subjected to these bragging sessions more so then anyone else.

To the point where Hobie and Miles dog pile him in getting him to shut up about you wearing his clothes for a second. Yes they get it, it’s really cut that your wearing his clothes and how when you return them to him they smell like you’ve never left.

They get it, Pavitr is an absolute sucker for you in his shirts and whilst they found it cute themselves, pav didn’t need to get all dramatic with his long winded speech about how his clothes on you looked as though they were tailored to fit you like the did him, nor how he believes that was a sign for him that you two were meant to be together forever.

Overall Pavitr gets overwhelmingly affectionate when you wear his stuff to the point where your being smothered alive by his constrictive hugs and flurries of kisses raining down on your face. He loves, loves, loves seeing you in his clothes. It makes him happier then he’s ever been.

Hobie is the definition of ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.’

So let’s say you find his vest with the pins spanning across the lapels and the spikes that traversed across the shoulders, draped over the door and decided to wear it for a while until Hobie notices it’s absence.

Jokes on you though because Hobie never left anything of his without it being purely intentional and Hobie left his vest over at yours with the intention that you’d pick it up and wear it out of your own fruition, rather then having him telling you to wear it.

Outwardly his reaction upon seeing you wearing his vest is relatively neutral but that’s only to those on the outside but you could see the smile etching it’s way across his face along with the mischievous, all knowing glint within his eyes that told you all that you had willingly fallen right into his trap, just as he expected.

You’ve been had but you couldn’t be mad because it meant that Hobie had this in mind for a while and played the waiting game to execute his little plan. He wanted to see you in his clothes that he was willing to leave his beloved vest in your hands.

Hobie isn’t territorial but just seeing you in his clothes makes him feel all sorts of things but he just chalks it down to being a spider attribute he got from the bite and nothing else.

All this cheeky fuck would say to seeing you in his vest is; ‘guess I was right, it suits you.’ Which might as well have been his way of telling you that you were more then welcome to steal his clothes but just don’t be surprised when you start seeing some of your own stuff disappearing now and then.

Can’t find your crop top?

Hobie’s wearing it the next time you see him.

Needless to say Hobie loves it when you wear his stuff, so he’s going to do the exact same but with your clothes because he loves the expressions he gets when you ultimately realises who had been stealing your clothes for the past few days.

Miguel may act cool, calm and collected with a smidge of feral his heart isn’t immune from melting at the sight of you wearing his clothing.

It doesn’t even matter how long you’ve been doing it as it always made this secret softy feel as though it was the first time all over again.

Miguel is so occupied with his work to unhealthy extent that he doesn’t realise your wearing one of his shirts, and even when he does; it takes him a minute due to the lack of sleep affecting his ability to comprehend his reality before he’s doing a double take upon realising that yes, that was his shirt your wearing.

It’s cute watching his eyes nearly pop out of his head upon realisation.

‘Is that my shirt?’ He’d ask, although already knowing the answer. He’s not against it, he’s just surprised that you’d even want to wear anything of his. He doesn’t think he’s deserving of such a gesture but it touches his heart nonetheless.

‘I missed you.’ You replied, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. ‘You’re so busy with work that I don’t often get alone time with you anymore. So whenever your away and I’m missing you, I go through your closet and pick a shirt out, and wear it for the rest of the day because it makes me feel as though your here with me.’ You finished with a shrug.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt upon your admittance of missing him. He knows how often he prioritises his work that he was completely blindsided by how it affect you, so much so to the extent that you sought out comfort from his clothes because he was nowhere to be found.

‘You look at home in my clothes.’ He tells you as he decided then and there to cut out some time of his day just for you and be there for you like a lover should be. ‘And I’m sorry that I haven’t been here as much as I should but I promise that’ll change.’ Miguel practically pleads to you as he holds you against his muscular chest, his hands rubbing your back, secretly loving how his shirt looked on you more so then anything.

Seeing you wear his clothes became Miguel’s favourite sight to see first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He takes pride out of it but the reasoning behind it will always make him upset at himself at his failings of being a partner.

It’s something he’s improved on ever since and you couldn’t help but get giddy when you felt him walk up behind you in the mornings, burying his head into your neck, greeting it with kisses, as his arms enclose on your waist, speaking to you in his low raspy morning voice about how beautiful/ handsome/cute/pretty/stunning you looked to the point where you wanted nothing then to bury yourself into his chest so he couldn’t see the dopey, lovesick smile beaming across your face.

Miguel isn’t immune to seeing you wearing his clothes and he never will be because it’s a declaration of love in its own unique way.

Peter B would find you wearing his clothes unbearably adorable.

He just wanted to squeeze you tightly but knew that probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering with his strength but that never stopped him from taking photos of you doing mundane things in his shirt or sweatpants that you had to tie up by the drawstrings.

Peter has taken too many pictures that he might as well have dedicated an entire album to you wearing his sweats, shirts or even his pink bathrobe and doing mundane things such as making breakfast, watching your favourite shows on tv, playing with Mayday and the like.

So don’t be surprised when he starts showing anyone that would listen over at the spider society pictures of his lover looking absolutely gorgeous/handsome/pretty/beautiful/adorable in his clothes 24/7. Miguel especially but Jess, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie and Margo were also some that got pestered by Peter.

Peter B is also very vocal and would smother you praise of how good you look in his clothes because what he says is 100% genuine.

For example;

‘Look at you! You look amazing!’

‘You’re so cute in my clothes, please don’t stop wearing them.’

‘How could my lover look even better when they’re wearing my clothes. It shouldn’t be possible but here you are, proving me wrong.’

This corny bastard would teasingly call you a mini version of him since you want to wear his stuff so badly.

You’ve defiantly caught him admiring you from afar when you wear his clothes. His eyes are soft and half lidded as he rests his face against his hand, he wasn’t aware that he was leaning so much to the point that before long he was on the floor. It’s so cartoonish and goofy but it’s just so Peter that you can’t help but let out a little chuckle before going over to help your lover off of the floor.

[necroflaww]

♡ SLASHER/HORROR ICONS HEADCANONS ♡

UPDATES: My suggestions are open! I have a very small list of others I wanna do, so shoot me a suggestion and I won't shoot myself :). I am hopefully going to expand my writing at some point by either doing stories of my own OCs, fluff, and more things.

♡ A/N: I wanna keep up the writing even though I don't REAAALLLLYYY wanna write a full story smut, mostly because some of y'all seem to enjoy my fanfics and I wanna kinda try something new and silly. So here's some SFW and NSFW headcanons! YIPPEE!! ✨

Who will you all see in this list?:

♡ Michael Myers (RZ version)

♡ Thomas Hewitt (TCM)

♡ Otis Driftwood (HO1000C)

♡ Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

˚ · . Michael Myers (Rob Zombie version) !

SFW:

♡ Generally, he's very cold. I mean, of course he is, it's Michael Myers.

♡ Michael may not show his love for you emotionally, but I think he would show you in other ways. Either by making or giving you one of the masks he's made.

♡ Total tummy and thigh guy. Michael probably would grab onto you when he wants something since he doesn't speak. Either if it's by him grabbing around your waist or laying a hand across your belly from behind.

♡ Secretly enjoys you playing with his hair. You could run your hands through it, push it out of his face, twirl it around your fingers. He's yours.

NSFW:

♡ A lot of people think that Michael would be rough and a kinky motherfucker in bed, I think that is where you're wrong. You have to consider this man spent a good majority of his life being locked away at Smith's Grove Sanitarium. He's not going to be experienced.

♡ Very handsy in bed. Either if it's gripping at your hips and tummy or holding onto your chest when you ride him. His hands have to be on you. Spreading your legs, touching you, slipping his fingers into your entrance.

♡ Michael is probably very quiet in bed until he gets close. When he feels like he's about to cum, he'll grunt and pant out as he tries to hold himself back from finishing inside you.

♡ The first time he did finish in you, he was more curious than scared. He dipped his fingers into your hole and pulled out whatever wet slick of you and his cum before licking his fingers.

˚ · . Thomas Hewitt !

SFW:

♡ He's a momma's boy, but he will treat you like you're the best thing that has ever happened to you (tbh, you probably are.) Thomas would be a total sweetheart for you and you probably would have him by a leash.

♡ Thomas would gift give. Sometimes it's a ring or bracelet from a victim, or if he wandered off, he would give you wild flowers that he ripped up by the root.

♡ Thomas probably isn't too fond of touching. There are days where he would insist on laying on top of you and won't move until you're almost crushed beneath him. Depends on his mood really.

♡ When you two first got together, Thomas was scared shitless. He was scared to even hold hands with you because Luda Mae had it so drilled into his head about how intercourse was bad before marriage. He of course was probably never taught what intercourse was besides the vulgar things Charlie would say around the house.

NSFW:

♡ Once again, probably didn't know what the hell he was doing. Thomas only knew that the ache in his pants needed to be taken care of. He tends to get sexually frustrated, jerking himself off until he's rubbed raw until you showed him the right way to do it.

♡ Once Thomas caught a scent of your arousal, he was immediately drunk. Since he doesn't speak, he would give you cues that he was in the mood. By pulling your hand against his bulge or by simply picking you up and carrying you off somewhere.

♡ Thomas would make sure Luda wasn't around before he fucked you. He was gentle at first but due to awhile of frustration, he would get rough and fuck you raw. You would often have to calm him down to keep him from fucking a hole into the floor.

♡ If Thomas ever marks you, his fingers would tenderly touch those spots. He may hurt others, but to you, you are his everything and you getting hurt by him was the last thing he wanted. You often would have to reassure him that it was a love bite.

˚ · . Otis Driftwood !

SFW:

♡ If I'm being honest, this is probably one of the meanest motherfuckers on this list. He loves you, yes, but in his own way. Even if he is a jackass and called you names, it was mostly out of teasing than rather being mean.

♡ Helping him with his "art" is one of his favorite things you do for him. Being able to have a living muse for once is better than the dead bodies that he had propped up around his room as "freaks of nature."

♡ This one might come later in NSFW with the same the one above this. Playing chase. Be the helpless victim, tease him, cuss at him. It gets him wound up and to chase you down. The way you would act like a scared rabbit was more fun than just sitting around watching Grandpa Hugo bitch at the TV.

♡ Otis is considered the head of the family, which is meaning he'll try his hardest to provide for you as well. This also means, he's in charge. Otis makes the calls. Not in a possessive way, but in more of a husband role than anything.

NSFW:

♡ Will absolutely fuck you senseless. You talk back? You're getting bent over the counter and being fucked so hard not a single thought will form in your head. Otis loves the fight, even if it's teasing.

♡ Sometimes when you make him chase you, Otis would let the adrenaline get to him and it'll often lead to him getting hard. He'll tackle you to the ground, sometimes even at gun point, and make sure your pretty legs stay open for him.

♡ How he loves making you scream and moan so loud that others hear. Otis has to make sure that everyone can hear that your his. Sometimes that would be making you vocal and other times it would be fucking you right in the kitchen like it's nobody's business.

♡ Cock warming during when he's doing his art. Otis will make sure your pretty little ass stays sitting in his lap and if a single peep comes from you, he'll either pull his cock out and slap it roughly against your entrance or will thrust into you so hard you forget your own name.

˚ · . Brahms Heelshire !

SFW:

♡ Acts of service. Brahms wants to please you no matter what, he wants you to be proud. He'll leave you sandwiches in the kitchen, help you get to sleep at night, etc. You help him, he wants to return the favor.

♡ Brahms is clingy as shit. He has to be next to you, even if the grocery guy comes over. Brahms is around you, clinging onto your side or hips. He follows you like a little puppy.

♡ He'll ask for kisses, of course. It would be in that quiet, innocent voice as well. He'll ask for a kiss and wait for you to pull his mask up enough to see his lips. Brahms will give you small pecks to full blown make out sessions.

♡ Again, with him being clingy, he loves sleeping with you. He had stopped sleeping in his own room whenever you agreed to being with him. It meant long nights of his face buried into your chest and listening to your heartbeat to make sure you're still there.

NSFW:

♡ He's pathetic. Pathetic enough he whines and moans whenever he's balls deep in you. Brahms takes control sometimes, but he also wants you on top, usually riding him. If Brahms gets too impatient, he'll grab your hips and fuck up into you until you're both a leaking mess.

♡ Tease him. Tease his cock, his hole, anything and he'll be a panting slut. Slip a finger in him and it's enough to make his back arch and his legs kick. Just a small amount of teasing in general gets Brahms so turned on.

♡ Brahms absolutely has no sense. He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing. All he would do was pull off your bottoms to be able to have access. He would get on his knees while cooking and make sure to eat you out until you cum on your face. There's probably been a few times where you've had to order take out due to burning the food.

♡ His mask would be long discarded and his mouth latched to your nipple to suck and bite at it. He would get so needy that he would put his cock between your thighs until they are covered in precum. Brahms is needy. That's all.

[princessbrunette]

just bc of that edit we need to have a drabble of dealer!jj slapping reader when she gets too bratty him and he’s so condescending about it :(

⠀ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

“i’on know what’s gotten into you, honestly…” your boyfriend lazily returns from the door, after closing it — his latest customer just having left with a stock up of jj’s product.

“what?” you sulk, knees to your chest on the couch as you paint your toenails, not even looking up at him.

“um, that attitude? you must be crazy if you think i’mma let you talk to me like that infront of one of my payin’ customers.” he grins, the malicious grin pushing him cheeks up. he only laughs in that particular way when he’s actually kind of irritated, so now your attention is fully on him, screwing up the lid to the nail polish bottle and placing it aside as your toenails dry.

“didnt have an attitude, jay.” even your tone has softened a little, like you couldn’t commit to the whole bratty thing now that your actions were having consequences. he paces infront of you, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“yeah… yeah, cool— won’t mind if i punish you anyway then, right? i mean, it’s not like you don’t deserve it. we both know that.”

he’s in the shabby plaid arm chair a minute later, spreading his knees and pulling you to kneel between them.

“you’re ruinin’ the paint job i did on my toes!” you whine, bratty attitude already back as you huff and puff at his tugging.

“cry about it.” he mutters, pulling your face closer to him by cupping your cheeks. “you asked for this, ‘kay?”

“asked for what, jj—” your sass is cut off by a slap, harder than he’s ever given you before. you squeal, going to cup your cheek.

“aw, did that hurt?” he tilts his head, giving it a unsympathetic little rub before following up with a quick succession of short slaps, just to lock in the soreness of your now burning skin.

“ow, jj.” you mewl, lip wobbling. you violently flinch when he lifts his hand again.

“yeah that’s papa t’you, young lady. the hell happened to all those manners you used t’have when we first met? if i didn’t know any better i’d think i was a bad influence on your shy lil’ ass.” he grins, so smirky and proud of himself that the words slur together a little at the end. he gives you one last good one, and the sting makes you moan, brows furrowed and eyes blown out. “mhm.” comes the low hum in his throat because he knows that look all too well.

“alrighty, think you’ve had quite enough. ge’mme a beer from the fridge and i’ll call it even.” he tickles under your chin and you sniffle, running off to return with a cold can.

he adjusts the way he sits, making space for you and holds his arms out for you to curl up on his lap. “didnt hurt that much baby c’mon, don’t be a wuss.” he smirks, holding the cold can to your cheek to soothe it before cracking it open and taking a sip. he offers you some and you shake your head.

“yeah, you’re after somethin’ else, i know.” he chides, placing the drink aside and wasting no time, pulling your skirt up to rest on your stomach. when his hand pushes your thighs open and cups your cunt, he’s greeted with the feeling of wet panties beneath his fingers. “well would you look at that. all ‘cus i hit you? damn baby. messed up.”

⠀ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

[bohemianblasphemy]

It's your wedding night and you're a virgin but billy is just holding back because you're so delicate to him. It looks like he is going to chicken out with one of his rare fits of conscience. You huff and tell him to show you what he has. But when he does you panic and say he's too big, won't fit in you down there. He calms you down and then he is inside you. You're ecstatic you're finally not a virgin and you start to make a lot of loud noise at how good it feels inside. Billy clamps his hand over your mouth but he's smirking as you start screaming with the pleasure he is giving you

i hope you enjoy ✨

content: fem!reader, loss of virginity, wedding night, unprotected sex, tiniest angst if you squint, big dick billy

the late night stumble back to the hotel on your wedding night was full of anxious yet desirable emotions. Billy and yourself had finally tied the knot- an intimate yet bustling ceremony, mainly caused by the rowdy personalities of the Boys.

Billy’s mind was clouded as you both walked into your home for the evening- the subject of your virginity running circles around his brain. You were determined for that evening to be the night and as much as billy wanted you too, his thoughts were making him second guess himself.

“billy? can you hear me?” Butcher snapped out of his trance, face to face with you smiling at him.

“yeah love… sorry just thinking there.” he chuckled, trying to keep his cool. your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him in for a longing kiss. his hands reach your waist, pulling you close to him. pulling away from the kiss, you whispered “i want you billy…” eyes flickering up to him, your body fuelled with desire.

his mind filled once again with his self doubting thoughts mixed with a strong sense of responsibility and overwhelming desire for you. His facial expression screamed that he was conflicted, making you question him. “what’s going on? are you- are you backing out of this?” you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“no no! that’s not it love…” he takes a breath, taking his time to put his words together. he steps forward towards you, placing a hand along your cheek, rubbing his thumb along it.

“i’m scared of hurting ya… i’d hate to see ya get hurt by me.” he voiced his concerns.

“y-you mean… you think that you’ll hurt me when… putting it in?” you looked at him, he nodded in response. “not to toot me own horn but i am… big.” he chuckled, trying to cut through the tension in the room.

“can you show me?” you asked bluntly, looking at him as he stroked you cheek. he was taken aback, but happily obliged as he took a few steps back and began to unbutton his black slacks, pulling them down along with his boxers. your eyes widened as you looked at him.

“billy, i-it might be too big for me-“ you whispered, your brain short circuiting at his size. he came back over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “we don’t have to do anything tonight love, it’s okay if you’re nervous-“ he reassured you.

“no… no i want to, i want to so bad.” you looked up at him, seeing the worry in his eyes. “it’s just intimidating ya know?” you smiled nervously, taking a deep breath to keep your breathing in check.

“don’t you worry love, just breathe yeah? we’ll take it slow… i wanna make it good f’ ya, my lovely wife.” his voice was soothing, an ointment for your nerves. your eyes locked on each other for a while, before you ran your hands over his chest to his shoulders; pushing his black suit jacket off him, continuing to unbutton his white button up. “i want this…” you whispered in his ear.

he exhaled a shaky breath at your actions and whispers as you undid the final button on his shirt, letting him shrug it off his body to the floor. you turned around, letting him untie the knot to the corset on your gown and have it pool to the carpet at your feet.

stepping out of the sea of tulle you faced billy in your lingerie, looking toward him in a vulnerable manner. he drinks in your figure, stepping forward to run his hands along your sides before pulling you in for a kiss. his lips are warm, igniting a fire within you that you hadn’t felt before as he backed you up toward the large bed.

your ankles hit the frame and butcher gently pushed you to the bed; scooting up the duvet as he crawled on top, encapsulating your lips with his once more. the sound of lips smacking and soft moans filled the room as billy’s fingers ghosted over your chest, squeezing one of your laced covered breasts. large digits trail further down to your stomach and hips, toying with the material of your underwear. “please billy… please touch me…” you begged, those sweet words lingered in the air as butcher stretched the material, snapping it back onto your skin. you whimpered from the sensation, causing butcher to chuckle.

“since ya asked so nicely…” in a swift motion butcher pulled the thin material down your thighs and tossing them to the floor, leaving you bare before him. his eyes darkened as he brought you in for another kiss, before his lips trail down your neck and collar, softly sucking marks along your delicate skin.

the soft gasps and moans flowed out of you like a river as his mouth travelled further, reaching your hips and inner thighs. he looks up at you from between your legs, admiring your flustered eyes before looking down at your glistening pussy.

“god look at ya… barely touched ya and you’re already soakin..” he teased his fingers along your folds, desire flowing through your body like lava as your hips bucked for more. lips travelled down your inner thighs before reaching where you wanted him most- his tongue creating agonisingly soft circles along your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance.

“fuck billy… you are-oh… shit that’s so good.” you swore you saw stars, your fingers reaching down to roam through his hair. you felt him chuckle, sending vibrations through your body from your center. “feel good lovey?” he whispered against you, his fingers just inside you, testing the waters.

“god it’s- so nice…” you managed to croak out, feeling his fingers along your walls. your hips bucked forward, needing him deeper which he happily took advantage of, sliding his thick fingers deeper, his tongue still attacking your clit. your eyebrows furrowed as he continued his actions, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter. “please billy, please… i need you, i- i need you inside me.”

Butchers head raised from between you, his smirk appearing on his face, coated in your slick and saliva. “yeah? ya want me?” you nodded, pulling him up to come chest to chest with you. “i want you… i want this…” with a quick nod butcher leans down to share a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips with a groan.

large hands guide your thighs around his waist as he prepared to line himself up with your entrance. “if it’s too much for ya, tell me to stop yeah?” you nodded, anticipating his next actions; his cock slid against your folds teasingly- softly taping your clit with his tip.

he looked down at you, smiling softly as you felt the radiating warmth of his length run through you with a swift but gentle thrust of his hips. a gasp erupted from you- a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain ran through your body, the pain soon disappearing as pleasure took over.

he was gentle with his movements, looking to you to make sure you were okay- seeing your face in a state of ecstasy was enough for him to continue thrusting deep into you. the noises that fell from your lips grew louder and louder, words laced in desperation for more.

With a devilish smirk, Billy clamped his large palm over your mouth. “shhh… don’t wanna wake up half of our floor yeah?” you couldn’t help but whimper against his palm, sending vibrations that only egged him on the go faster, driving you into the mattress- long fingers travelled to your sensitive bud, creating slow circles around it making your body jolt and making muffled sounds against his hand.

Butcher removed his hand, replacing it with his mouth as he continued plowing into you. the knot in your stomach started to unravel, you pulled away from his kiss. “i-i’m so close…” you whimpered. “come f’ me love… please…” he almost begged for it, looking deep into your eyes as you unraveled- your mouth fell open, back arched into the mattress below you as stars appeared in your vision from your orgasm.

butcher chuckles as he watched you come undone around him, feeling your pussy pulsate around him made him shake. his eyebrows furrowed as he thrusted for a moment longer before he followed suit, cumming deep inside you.

stagnancy took over the both of you, relishing in your shared moment of your first time. he slowly pulled out of you, kissing you once more. “was that alright? you’re not hurtin’ are ya?” he questioned, bringing a palm to your cheek, letting you lean into his touch. “that was… more than alright billy, you’re amazing…” you were glowing, feeling satisfaction and relief. “w-was i okay?”

he smiled down at you before rolling to lay at your side. his fingers traced along your bare sides, admiring you.

“my girl… you are perfect.”

[thebearer]

Hoohoohoo look at all these requests I’m behind on that I get to binge 🤭

I have one of my own tho, if you want! I just neeed Dad!Carmy and mom reader like so bad I just need some domestic fluffiness with him. I feel like he would such a cute protective dad especially with a daughter. Like imagine if she was picky and he made all her fav foods from scratch for her in cute little shapes. Stop.🥹

omg ahhh!!! a picky little baby bear i'll sob rn!!!

"Look! Look at what Daddy made you, Teddy." You cooed, bouncing the two year old on your hip, her curls tickling your chin. Carmen turned the pan towards her, far enough she couldn't touch but close so she could see the tiny heart shaped pancake in the pan.

"Mmm, doesn't that look so yummy?" Your tone lilted, exaggerated but soft, hoping it might sway the stubborn two year old.

Carmen's eyes rounded, hopeful that she might be impressed- would finally be impressed. Instead, Teddy just blinked, looking from you back to Carmen. "No."

Carmen's shoulder's deflated, letting the pan rest back over the flame. Teddy turned two only a month ago, and since then, she'd entered a new realm, passing the "terrible twos" and going into something much worse. You blamed Carmen, she had inherited his stubbornness and this was his own form of karma, because no matter what he did, the answer was the same- no.

"You're being silly." You tsked lightly, shaking your head at her. "You love pancakes."

"No." Teddy shook her head, curling further into your chest.

"Then what do you want, baby?" Carmen's tone was tired, and holy shit was he. "Do you want cereal?"

"No."

"Do you want eggs?" You tried.

"No."

"Do you want donuts?" Carmen tried again, ignoring your glare over her head. He was desperate, desperate for any other answer other than no.

"No." Teddy whined, wiggling in your arms to get down.

You set her carefully on the ground, letting her walk towards the cabinets, pulling on the child proofed locks. Carmen looked at you, tired, defeated, a little hurt. "I don't know what she wants." He admitted.

You shrugged gently, running a hand down the soft cotton of his shirt. "She'll eat it. I think she just likes saying no because you give her a reaction." You hummed, giving him a very pointed look.

Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Yeah? Who's she get that from, hm?" He hummed, arms snaking around your waist to pull him back into you. "Sounds like she gets it from you."

You giggled, pushing his hands off your sides. "More like she gets it from you." You pushed a finger into his chest. "This trait screams Berzatto, and you know it."

Carmen rolled his eyes, looking at Teddy on the floor, yanking furiously on the cabinets. "Hey, cut that out." Carmen said, firm with a little frown that had her stopping, rounded eyes meeting his. "That's not for you, Dorothea, stop."

The use of her full name, not the beloved "Teddy" nickname had her bottom lip quivering, your breath hitching knowing tears were coming. A loud wail filled the kitchen, Carmen's heart sinking when Teddy ran into your legs, hiding her face in the soft fabric of your pajama pants.

"Mama!" You picked her up, cradling her against your chest. Carmen looked sick, wracked with guilt. You snorted lightly, shaking your head. Teddy's crocodile tears won him over every time, had him bending to her every whim which you were sure is why she did it.

"She's fine," You hum, running a hand down her curls. She wasn't even fully committed to this "breakdown" already quieting down her sobs, clearly distracted with something over your shoulder.

"Teddy," Carmen's hand was on her back, nearly covering her whole little spine. It made you want to melt. She looked at him, bottom lip jutted and sniffling in a way that looked so much like you. No wonder Carmen didn't stand a chance ever staying mad at her.

"What do you want, Teddy Bear? You have to eat. What do you want Daddy to make you?" Carmen's voice was calm, gentler now and a near coo. You were sure at her nap time you were going to try and convince him for a sibling for Teddy, or at least try and practice.

Teddy whined, pointing at the cabinet she'd been pulling on earlier. Carmen's brows furrowed curiously before opening it, sighing heavily. "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me-"

"-Carmen." You hissed, eyes cutting to Teddy, who was not paying attention, thankfully.

"She wants goldfish again!" Carmen sighed, pulling out the orange box with the smiling cracker on it. Teddy perked, squirming in your arms to get down. "All she wants to eat is this!"

"Just let her have them. I'll cut the pancake too, maybe she'll eat that." You shrug, reaching for the cooling stack on the counter.

"This can not be healthy, baby. Maybe I should try and make them again? With some vegetables and-and I'll blend then better this time-"

"-Carmy, she spit those out last time." You bit back a laugh, remembering the disaster that was the homemade goldfish.

Carmen sighed, running a hand through his hair, setting the bowl of goldfish on the ground while you fixed her high chair. "I know." He sighed. "I just... I feel like she should be eating something healthier, ya know?"

"I think you're gonna have to give into her a little, Mr. Stubborn." You smirked, he was only proving your point now. "Give her the goldfish and the other. She won't even know she's eating it, promise." You hummed, tossing the pancakes on the tray and picking Teddy up to fasten her in.

"That doesn't seem right." Carmen frowned. "Tricking her into eating things."

"She's two, Carmen." You rolled your eyes lightly at him. "It's not like we're force feeding her. She likes it." You nod towards your baby, chubby little fingers grabbing the cut pancake, shoving it in her mouth. "If she didn't like it, we'd know. We didn't force her to eat the homemade goldfish. Now that would have been wrong." You smirked.

Carmen rolled his eyes. "Funny." He scoffed. "I just worry about her."

"I know you do." You hum, wrapping your arm around his torso. "You're a good dad like that."

"Yeah?" Carmen blushed, heart soaring under your praise. "You think I'm a good dad."

"You know I do." You shook your head lightly at him, letting your cheek rest against his chest.

"I think you're a good mom. The best mom." Carmen added, leaning down to peck your head.

You smiled, tilting your head back so he could kiss you, fully and sweet, lips slotting over yours, hand pressed into your spine to pull you closer. It wasn't nearly the sloppy make outs you used to have on Sunday mornings, sweeter now.

A sharp jab to your temple had you pulling away, hearing the soft clatter of something on the ground. You gaped, looking at the goldfish back at Teddy, who giggled wildly. "Dorothea, did you throw that?" You frowned, her laughter only growing louder.

Carmen bit back his own laugh, turning back to the stove, while you picked the food off the floor. "That," Carmen muttered. "Is definitely a you trait, baby."

[misotsukiiyeooo]

“SURPRISE!!…?”

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x F! reader

A/N: I know he's very much healed now, this is just for the skit.

Genre: Fluff (hint of crack)

Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: While you have a little surprise party at home, Seungcheol arrives home leaving you speechless.

Waking up, you get ready to kiss your birthday boy only to find out he's not even in bed.

Getting up to search around the house, he's nowhere to be found. Finally, you check your phone receiving a message.

Pollie Cheollie 🍒❤

Today at 11:34 AM

I know you're probably just waking up, so I'm outside with the boys now. They wanted to go out earlier because I wanted to spend the rest of the day with you.❤

Y/N

Today at 11:40 AM

hmm I see, well have fun and tell them I said hi! Also, don't do anything dumb okay? ik how those boys are.

Pollie Cheollie 🍒❤

Today at 11:41 AM

Alright alright, I'll make sure we don't do anything we're not supposed to, Love you, Princess.

After returning the same words you lock your phone and head to the bathroom to freshen up.

After some time of hard work, you going to the grocery store to you buying balloons and party supplies, you finally finish the cake. Wiping your forehead, unknowingly wiping some frosting on your face.

Wiping the last bit of frosting on your apron, you open the fridge grabbing the freshly picked cherries you know Seungcheol likes.

Placing the cherries carefully on the cake, you hear the door unlock, but no one enters. Raising an eyebrow you take off your apron and walk up to the front door until you hear his voice.

"Princess...?" You immediately run quietly to the kitchen and get the cake, lighting the candles you walk back to the door.

"SURPRISE!!...?" Your smile dropped at the sight of him. "Seungcheol? What happened!?!" He looks at you, nervously smiling as he's about to explain himself. "I was playing with the boys outside and I might've tried a bit too hard." He looks down. "You think?? You're in a wheelchair!"

"I know baby...I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay it doesn't even hurt that bad." He attempts to stand up but you put the cake on the nearest table to sit him back down.

"Stay seated. I can't believe you hurt yourself! I told you not to do anything dumb!!" Seungcheol holds your hands locking eyes.

"Listen, It's not as bad as it looks, okay? And are you really going to scold me on my birthday?" His pouty face and big eyes makes you weak. "You're lucky you're so cute right now..."

"Now let's get back to you surprising me, Yeah?" He wipes the frosting off your face making you giggle out of embarrassment.

"Princess, this cake is really good! but you know, you don't have to feed me..." Shaking your head, you continue to feed him.

"You can't move so much, and you're not doing well..." Seungcheol ruffles your hair as you're pouting. "Okay fine, I'll let you feed me for now even though my hands work perfectly fine."

"You know, I had a lot of stuff planned for us for the evening...but now we can't do them." He hums as you talk.

"But now, we can relax and watch movies in bed.?" Seungcheol tries to change your mood, succeeding.

"Hm...that doesn't sound like a bad idea..."

After cleaning up, you and Seungcheol lay in bed as you eat snacks and watch movies. "Are you sure you're leg doesn't hurt?"

He looks at you as you are lying on his chest, "Of course it doesn't, I'm strong remember?" He flexes his arm as you laugh.

"What? You don't think I'm strong enough anymore?" You watch him pout. "Aw, my Cheollie. You are so so so strong baby. But you'd be even stronger if you didn't hurt yourself."

He massages your scalp, playing with your hair. "Yeah, you're right...first thing I'll do once I heal is head straight to the gym."

You chuckle at him. "First, let's focus on healing."

Req are open!!

Taglist!

@jjunie-0 @minminghao @allieyaaa @honglynights

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x fem!reader

title: go ahead and cry little girl

warnings: none, pure rotting fluff

a/n: yes! another one, as always this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. listen to the song daddy issues by the neighborhood. sorry for typos, with love!

-

He left the basement door unlocked. He wanted me to play the game because if I didn't he wouldnt want to keep me here and I wanted to stay, stay with him. So I had no choice but to play and I never really knew how far I was able to go, once I made it up the steps it wasn't so hard because I've done it before, but I really didn't want to leave. 

But this time was different, I saw him in a chair in the kitchen, facing the steps to the basement, he was sleeping, his soft snoring. I didn't want to play this game at all, at all. I knew if I didn't hed force me to leave. He wouldn't kill me believe it or not because he knew id rather die that leave him. He knew I wouldn't tell a soul. 

I was barefoot, in the nightgown he gave me. The time floor was cold, he had his shoes on, he was definitely ready for something. I got close to him and tilted my head at him, he had his mask on like always but I could see his eyes were closed.

The back door was right there and I aprouched it, it was locked so when I unlocked it made a loud click and my fight or flight kicked in and I ran out that door. I didn't know if he woke but he did, he was in a shock but he didn't hesitate to get his van from his garage and chase me down the block. 

I was running, the cold night wind hitting my face and my hair. My feet hitting the hard pavement, what am I supposed to do? Would it be reasonable to scream for help? No. But what am I supposed to do? 

He stopped his van and got out as fast as he could, he ran after me. He took me down on the hard ground, on the wet grass, I cried out in pain and he immediately covered my mouth as a porch light turned on from across the street, he whispered in my ear, his voice was rough and mean sounding. "Say one word..."

I was breathing heavily, I couldn't help it. The adrenaline i felt to the tension made me start to cry, he felt bad for this and he felt he was being unreasonable. He put his lips to the side of my head and kissed me gently. "Hush." He said softly. 

His arm that was around my torso, I put my hands and gripped him a little, he kept whispering in my ear and trying to keep me from making any noises, which he knew I wouldn't do it intentionally. "Shh, shh, shh." 

He kissed my cheek, and when that porch light turned off he looked around for a second then lifted me over his shoulder, I didnt really know what to do, but I couldnt do anything or maybe I just didn't want to. He put me in the back of his van and I could tell he was angry by the way he slammed the door. 

We got back to his home, he carried me down to the basement and set me on the bed, tossing my gentle. He was breathing heavily, his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed to me. "Why would you do that... To me?" 

His voice was heavy, dark, his chest rising and falling with every breath. "I thought if i-." I tear up. "If I didn't try to... Escape, you wouldn't let me stay..." 

His breathing slowed, it was more calm and his eyes soften. "I was so scared... You didnt want to stay with me, you didn't want to be loved by me." 

I look at him, tears falling down my cheeks. "No, Albert. I thought if I didn't play that game you'd hurt me." 

Albert looked at me, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. "You dont listen. Bunny, I've told you. In any way you think i'd hurt you, is that fear I want you to let go of. I will never do something so terrible to you, the mere thought of trying to hurt you... To touch you. It's sickening." 

He scowled softly at me as he sat on the mattress, he strokes my cheek with his thumb and wiped the tears. "You don't have to think you have to hurt yourself to stay with me, that would be the opposite of why I took you." 

My tears grew heavy he saw this and without hesitation he pulled me tight to his chest. He put gentle pressure on my back and whispered in my ears, in a lullaby like tone. "I'm right here. And leaving is the only way you'll get away from me, and will never let anyone take you away from me."