#sheds a tear but then smiles BEFORE he tells he that he came (to be there for/with her) there's zero other explanation why the accused would

[grapejuice32]

Make It Work: Part 3

Spencer Reid x reader

Part 2 here Notes: So sorry for the wait on this part! I swear the team dinner will happen in the next and final chapter!

When you woke the next morning, it was to an empty bed, and by force of habit, you immediately assumed the worst. That Spencer had been called away for a case or had left you in favour of going to the office. You hated that you had the doubt for him that you did, but you couldn't help it, not after such actions on his part had become a rather regular occurrence. You sat up from bed and ignored the sting at the back of your eyes, refusing to cry over something like this, it was only when the bedroom door swung open that you realised how ridiculous you were being. Because of course Spencer hadn't gone to work, no, he'd gone to get you flowers and had made you breakfast, because it was Spencer.

"Hi," you whispered with a small smile on your face, the redness in your eyes causing him to give you a sad yet understanding look. He knew what the lack of his presence when you woke had lead you to assume, and he couldn't blame you. You were so understanding of his job, you always had been, and he was understanding of yours, but he had let you down many times, had up and left in the middle of the night when he got the call, and had left you alone with nothing but your disappointment. He always tried to make it okay, to keep in contact, but it was hard when he held such contempt for technology and would get so fixated on the task at hand he would lose track of just how long it'd been since shed checked in with you.

"Morning, angel," his voice came out soft, matching the look in his eyes, he leant on one of his hands to hold him up as he reached across to brush some of your hair away from your face, "we've got a lot to talk about, don't we?"

You only nodded, on of your hands placed on your stomach as you leant into his hand that cupped your cheek, "thank you for the flowers," you whispered, "you didn't have to do that."

"Nonsense," he shook his head in dismissal, "every girl deserves flowers, and so both my girls will have flowers."

"Spence," you pulled a face, "there's no way to tell the baby's gender, you know that."

"I don't care, she's going to be a girl." He responded, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument.

"You're ridiculous," you mumbled as you took a bite of the toast he'd brought you, you looked down at the bedsheets and swallowed before speaking, "you weren't there."

"I know, I'm sorry honey," he ran his fingers through your hair, "I'll be there next time."

"That's not good enough anymore," you whispered, your voice wavering as you tears lined your eyes, "it's always next time, but then you're not there for that either. We're going to have a baby, Spence. You have to show up, or just let me know that you're okay at least!"

"I know, I know, honey." He nodded along, placing his other hand on top of your own that laid on your stomach. But you pulled away from him slightly, turning to look at him properly, "Do you though? Cause it doesn't feel like it. It feels like I'm doing this on my own, Spence. Have you changed your mind? Do you not want this anymore? Do you not want me to meet your team anymore? Be honest."

"I-you, you know I want this, this is all I've ever wanted. Of course I want you to meet my team, they're the closest thing I have to family." He dropped moved to pull his phone out of his pocket, "You want to talk about honesty? What's this, hm?"

He showed you his phone screen which was opened onto an article with pictures of myself and Tom at the airport, one of his hands placed on my bike comfortingly, the headline read 'New beau for rising star?' You could only sigh, dropping your head into your hands, "That's not what it looks like."

"Isn't it? Cause it looks to me like you had someone else there to pick you up from the airport." While his voice remained gentle, it was clear what he was accusing you of, or trying to imply.

"Seriously? How dare you!" You scoffed, "You weren't there, you're never there! I met him at the airport, I was crying and he was decent and came to ask if I was alright."

"You look pretty close to me," he muttered, putting his phone down, "you said you were at the park with a friend, is that him, huh? You've never met him before and you go to the park with him? Do you realise how dangerous that is?"

You stood up from bed and rubbed your hands over your face in frustration, "Who else do I have, Spencer?"

"You have me!" he exclaimed, also standing from bed, pointing to himself as he spoke.

You bit your lip, it ached slightly as it irritated the spot that had bled at the airport, "Do I? Cause lately it doesn't even feel like I have that."

"Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry that I upset you. I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I was called for a case, the job comes fir-"

"I should come first, I'm pregnant Spencer. For once just put me first, please." Your voice broke, a tear trailing down your cheek, "I know the job comes first, I know. And it's okay. But it would be nice to come first, just once. Sometimes it feels like you don't even think about me, you barely text me unless you have to, and yeah you call me but still it's, I-" you were going to continue but he cut you off.

"That's not fair, that's not fair and you know it," he raised his voice, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, "I have an obligation, I have a duty."

"You have a duty to me too! I just wish you wouldn't make our relationship sound like such a chore. I wish you'd show the same loyalty to me that you show your job and your team, because in case you forgot, I'm supposed to be your family too, we're having a baby!" You implored, and despite the tears that were staining your cheeks, it felt good to finally be telling him all of this.

"Stop using the baby against me!" he walked closer to you, he used his hands to emphasise what he was saying, "I"m sorry, I'm sorry. I know, I know I have a duty to you. You're right, I know you're right." He placed a hand on your shoulder, "Please, I'm sorry, angel. I don't want to fight, I hate seeing you cry."

"Stop, Spence, you're not listening to me." You cried, "I feel trapped, I can't tell my colleagues about you, my only friend who knows about you doesn't live in the country, nobody but you and Tom, from the airport, know about the baby. I-" you sighed, "I do nothing but understand your needs and your job and respect your whites, and I get it, you work for the fucking FBI. But you need to show me the same consideration, or try to at least."

He nodded, slowly reaching to cup your cheek, his movements almost hesitant as if he was worried you'd push him off of you. "I know, and I'm so sorry, angel." His thumb swept under your eye, brushing away the wet patch left by your tears, "We're going to go and meet the team for dinner tonight. Hotch already knows about the baby, he said that we're okay, but if we go public, we need to be careful. There are people who've targeted the team before, who've used loved ones against us. That's how Hotch's ex-wife passed away. That's why I've been so hesitant to go public, honey. I can't bare the thought of-," he cut himself off, shaking his head and swallowing back tears at the mere thought of losing you.

"Oh," you whispered in realisation, tilting your head into the warmth of his hand, "I feel silly now."

"No," he tutted, "because despite my reasons, it doesn't justify my behaviour, I know that. I just, I didn't want to have to explain my reasoning to you, I didn't want to scare you away."

"You couldn't possibly scare me away, I can understand why you didn't tell me though." You sighed and licked your lips, "But the leaving me on days off, the lack of contact..."

"Yeah," he agreed, "I'm going to work on it, I swear. From now on when I take days off, I'm going to stick by that. And if the team really need me I can consult from home. You matter to me, honey. More than you know, I've not been good at showing it recently and I can only promise to work on my behaviour."

It was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his waist, "I love you." your words were muffled against the fabric of his clothes, your face pressed into his chest. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chin rested on top of your head, "I love you more."

"What are you, Rapunzel?" the words slipped out instinctively.

"I don't understand," he pulled back to look down at you with a frown.

"Oh my god," you sighed and pressed your face back into his chest in despair.

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3

[krshpdoinklestuf]

Gently taking Adam’s hand, he helps the man get up onto his own two feet, making sure he doesn’t topple over again.

“Charlie, I need you and Maggie to help get everything ready for the baby and get everyone together, we’ll meet you girls at the hospital.” With a snap of his fingers, a small portal appeared that led towards Pride’s emergency room. Charlie gave her dad a worried look and watched as Adam struggled to deal with the pain. “ He’ll be fine, it’s just gonna a be long, long..long day.” Adam let out a pained grunt, gripping his stomach tight. “Enough standing, let’s go already!” He hissed, the pain becoming overwhelming. Without another word, both men traveled through, with the portal closing behind them.

“Is..is he ever going to get my name right?” Vaggie questioned before taking hold of the several bags Charlie and Lucifer prepared. Charlie snickered, too focused on her baby brother finally arriving and her important task at hand. She stacked the bags in her arms, carrying a high tower before dropping them into the trunk of the car. She made sure she had everything she needed and took out her phone. Sending a group text to everyone in the hotel, she waited for them to load into the car and take off for the hospital.

“Easy. Oh boy.” Lucifer’s face dropped as his husband temper rose even more. He found himself having to duck his head from several sharp tools, an unused bedpan and a nurse. He’s lucky his reflexes were fast enough to dodge what’s been thrown.

“Oh fuck you, you did this! You’re the one who put a fucking demon spawn in me!” His eyes were starting to shine, tears glistening the corners of his eyes. He refused to shed any tears, as much as it was tearing him apart.

“Adam, you need to calm down at least some. You can’t throw the nurse who’s trying to actually help you!” He sighed.

Adam’s wings flared, “you think I can just calm down?! Your kid is possessing me and wanting to come out, the fuck can I do?!” Something metal came flying towards Lucifer’s head, just barely missing his cheek.

“If you’d stop throwing things at me and being a douchebag, then maybe a nurse would be able to give you something for the pain.” Lucifer scowled, having more than enough with Adams actions. Adam slinked back, grumbling under his breath.

“…I’m sorry, alright? Fuck, you have no idea how this shit feels. I’m starving, I cant eat, I have to have my body cut open to get this kid out of me, it’s bullshit.”

Lucifer’s expression softened. He could tell Adam was genuinely afraid of what was happening to him. He never experienced something like this, not himself anyway. He went through childbirth with Eve but he didn’t physically have to do any of it, he just had to be there for moral support. Lucifer placed a hand on top of Adam’s, gently interlacing their fingers.

“I get it. Birth isn’t easy, especially in your situation. I’m here though, okay? It’s not like you’re going through this alone.” He pressed his forehead against Adam’s, smiling softly as his free hand rubs gentle strokes on Adam’s forearm, “Yknow what? I’ll bring you the fattest rack of ribs once he’s out. Better than hospital food. Sound good?” Adam’s face lit up at the mention of food, “you’re the fucking best, babe.”

Lucifer smiled proudly, “ I know.” He gave Adam a peck on the forehead before standing up. “I’m gonna go find Charlie and grab our things, are you gonna be alright until I get back?”

Adam kept hold of Lucifer’s arm. He paused for a moment before letting go. “I think so.”

Lucifer chuckled before giving Adam another small kiss, “I won’t be long. Tell the nurses if you need anything.”

Adam watched as Lucifer took out his phone, frantically dialing his daughter’s number and closed the door behind him. He placed a hand on his heavily pregnant belly, rubbing soothing circles along the top. “Your dad will be back, kid. Soon.”

WIP of Adam going into labor with Eden :)

“Fuck me, is this kid gonna pop out anytime soon?” Adam could barely stand on his feet, his pregnant stomach sticking a good foot in front of him. At nearly 9 months and 4 days, he was more than ready to call it quits on being pregnant. “I feel huge.”

“You are huge.” Lucifer smirked, eyeing his husband. “Not that that’s a bad thing, you look great with the weight.” He stood at the kitchen counter, stirring him and Adam’s morning tea. “Besides, he’ll be out of you soon.” He placed a big stack of pancakes, soaked in syrup and butter, along with their teas, in front of Adam before sitting down with his own smaller plate.

“I’m sooo ready for him to be out. Do you know how much it sucks not being able to sleep on my stomach or pissing every ten minutes?” He sloppily shoved a half of a pancake into his mouth, “little bastard better be worth all the pain.”

“He will be, I’m sure.” He watched Adam in awe, mostly with how cute he seemed to be while pregnant, even though he was making a total mess of himself. He took small sips of his tea as they enjoyed their breakfast.

As Lucifer cleaned up their mess, Adam slowly took his leave towards the couch before he felt something trickle down his legs. His blood ran cold.

“Uh.” His hands flew to his stomach, “Lu?” His voice immediate with fear and confusion, “Lulu?”

Lucifer hummed to himself as the kitchen sink filled with water. He quickly pushed the few dishes and utensils in the hot soapy water and gave each a quick scrub.

“Lucifer?! Hello?! Fuck-!” A sharp contraction started to hit as he almost fell forward, barely catching himself on the loveseat in front of him.

Lucifer stopped immediately when he heard Adam’s voice shout his name. He dropped a single plate near the counter as he rushed towards him, making a mess in the process.

“Are you okay?!”

“What the fuck do you think?! My water broke!” Adam tensed up as another contraction hit, his fist coming down and hitting the cushion with a hard thud.

“Ah fuck, fuck. Okay, Adam, I- I gotta find Charlie and pack our bags! Just stay here!” He bolted up the hotel stairs towards Charlie’s bedroom, frantically banging on her door.

Groggily, Charlie opened her and Vaggie’s door, “wha..? dad? What’s going on?”

Adam began to sweat, his grip on the loveseat cushion beginning to tear deep rips into it. “Aw fuck, this hurts! Why the fuck is labor is so painful?!” As another strong contraction hit, 3 sets of red and yellow demon wings sprouted from Adam’s back, along with a pair of red and black horns from his temple. “Aw no, not right now, you little asshole!” His sclera turned blood red along with yellow irises replacing his normal golden yellow ones. Adam was not impressed, out of all times to be possessed by his unborn child, this was the worst. The pain was intensifying the longer he waited. A long yet sharp tail soon formed, frantically whipping to try to drown out his pain.

It wasn’t longer than a minute later that Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer were immediately at his side, several bags stacked near the Hotel doorway.

“Hey, hey,” he sat beside him, gently keeping his hand on his back, “we’re here, you’re going to be okay.” Lucifer ran a hand through Adam’s sweaty locks, locking eyes with him, helping Adam keep his breath steady. “Just breathe.”

Adam only gave Lucifer a look of malice, his brow furrowed. “Get. Him. Out. Of. Me.”

[hislittleraincloud]

This was so beautifully done 😭👔JAIRO🎀💖✨

[its-avalon-08]

what are we running from? (op81)

(monza has my heart, but what is mclaren doing? papaya rules and all that shit for more tension? our boys deserve better! enjoy this one because i shed a few tears writing it <3 )

✦ pairing - oscar piastri x female!reader

✦ genre - friends to lovers, neglect, a LOT angst, alot of tears, super long im sorry

Oscar Piastri and Y/N had always been inseparable, their bond forged in the fires of shared experiences and unwavering support. From the outside, their relationship seemed almost too good to be true—two best friends who had known each other for years, with a connection so deep that it felt like they were more than just friends, even if neither of them had ever dared to say it out loud.

It had started back in their school days, when they first met in a classroom filled with the nervous energy of new beginnings. Oscar, with his quiet determination and sharp wit, had caught Y/N’s attention almost immediately. She, on the other hand, had this vibrant, magnetic personality that drew people in, and before long, they had become fast friends.

As time went on, their friendship only grew stronger. They spent countless hours together, whether it was studying for exams, watching movies, or just hanging out at each other’s houses. They knew each other’s quirks, habits, and fears better than anyone else. Oscar could tell when Y/N was upset just by the way she fidgeted with her hair, and Y/N knew exactly when Oscar needed a distraction by the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They were a team, an unbreakable pair that everyone else could only admire. Friends would often joke about how they were like an old married couple—finishing each other’s sentences, knowing each other’s favorite foods, and sharing a kind of unspoken communication that others found both endearing and perplexing.

But it wasn’t just their closeness that made their relationship special; it was the way they supported each other through everything. When Oscar started his journey in racing, Y/N was there every step of the way, cheering him on from the sidelines, offering words of encouragement when things got tough, and celebrating with him after every victory. She was his rock, his constant, and in a world that was often unpredictable, Y/N was the one thing Oscar could always count on.

And Oscar was just as devoted to Y/N. He was the one she called in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, the one who listened patiently to her dreams and fears, the one who knew exactly how to make her laugh when she was feeling down. He was the calm to her storm, the steady presence that grounded her when everything else felt chaotic.

Their physical closeness was another thing that set them apart. Oscar and Y/N were never shy about showing affection—whether it was cuddling on the couch during movie nights, holding hands when they were out together, or the way Y/N would rest her head on Oscar’s shoulder when she was tired. It was the kind of closeness that blurred the lines between friendship and something more, but they had always kept it in the realm of friendship, never daring to cross that invisible boundary.

Yet, underneath it all, there was something unspoken between them, something that both of them felt but neither of them acknowledged. It was in the way Oscar’s heart would skip a beat whenever Y/N smiled at him, or the way Y/N’s breath would catch whenever Oscar hugged her just a little too tightly. It was the feeling that there was something more between them, something that could change everything if they ever dared to explore it.

But that unspoken connection, as strong as it was, also carried a weight—a fear of losing what they had if they ever tried to turn it into something more. And so, they kept it hidden, buried beneath layers of friendship, where it was safe from the risks that came with love.

They were best friends—inseparable, devoted, and utterly reliant on each other. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a yearning that neither of them wanted to admit. And it was only a matter of time before that tension would come to a head, forcing them to confront the feelings they had both tried so hard to ignore.

<3 <3

Oscar had always known he was in trouble when it came to Y/N. From the moment they met, they had clicked in a way that felt effortless, natural—like they were meant to be in each other's lives. She was his best friend, his confidante, his comfort. But somewhere along the way, Oscar had started feeling something more. He fell for her, hard, and though every fiber of his being screamed to tell her, he never did. He couldn’t risk losing her.

But things had changed. Y/N had started seeing someone new, and for the first time, Oscar felt the ground shift beneath him. Their usual routine of late-night calls, movie marathons, and endless cuddles had been replaced by her excited chatter about her new boyfriend, her plans for dates, and the moments that didn’t include him.

flashback

The shift in Y/N’s behavior started subtly, but it grew more apparent with each passing day. Oscar noticed it first at the small gatherings they used to enjoy together—nights spent with their closest friends, where they would usually stick close, laughing at inside jokes and exchanging amused glances from across the room. But now, things were different.

It began with Jake, the guy Y/N had started seeing. At first, Oscar didn’t think much of it—he’d seen Y/N date before, and it had never really affected their friendship. But something about Jake seemed to pull her further away from him in a way that felt like a slow, painful drift.

The first time it really hit him was at a party one of their mutual friends was hosting. Oscar had arrived a bit late, expecting to find Y/N waiting for him with a drink in hand, eager to catch him up on everything he’d missed. But instead, he found her on the other side of the room, wrapped up in Jake’s arms, laughing at something he’d said.

Oscar tried to brush it off, forcing a smile as he approached. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted her, hoping for the usual warmth in her eyes.

She glanced over at him, but the smile she gave him was distant, almost distracted. “Oh, hey, Oscar,” she replied, her tone casual, as if he were just another guest at the party.

It stung, more than he cared to admit. “What’s going on? Missed anything exciting?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Y/N shrugged, her attention already shifting back to Jake. “Not really. Just hanging out.”

Oscar’s heart sank. This wasn’t like her. She was usually the first to pull him into the fun, to drag him into ridiculous games or tease him about not dancing enough. But now, it felt like he was intruding, like he didn’t belong.

The night went on, and the gap between them only seemed to widen. At one point, Oscar found himself standing near the bar, watching as Y/N and Jake danced together, completely absorbed in each other. It was as if the rest of the room had faded away, including him.

When they finally took a break, Oscar made his way over, hoping to at least steal a few minutes with her. “So, how’s it going with Jake?” he asked, trying to sound supportive despite the knot in his stomach.

Y/N looked at him with a small, polite smile, but there was no spark of excitement in her eyes, none of the usual fire that had always drawn him in. “It’s good. He’s great, really.”

“Yeah, he seems nice,” Oscar said, forcing the words out. “We should hang out more—like old times.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering to Jake before she answered. “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”

That was it. Just a vague, noncommittal response that left Oscar feeling more isolated than ever.

The next few days were more of the same. Y/N started canceling plans, saying she was too busy or that she had already made plans with Jake. When they did hang out, she was distracted, constantly checking her phone, as if waiting for a message from Jake to pull her away again.

Oscar tried to hide his frustration, but it grew harder with each passing day. He noticed how Y/N seemed to change around Jake—she was more subdued, less like herself. The playful, confident girl he knew was replaced by someone who seemed almost… unsure. She laughed at jokes that weren’t funny, agreed with things she would usually argue against, and even started dressing differently, like she was trying to fit into some version of herself that wasn’t real.

The breaking point came when they all went out to another party, this time with a larger group. Oscar watched from a distance as Y/N and Jake mingled with people he didn’t recognize, her hand firmly in Jake’s as she introduced herself with an unfamiliar edge in her voice.

It wasn’t until someone asked how long she and Oscar had known each other that the real blow came.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for a while,” she said casually, almost dismissively, as if they weren’t best friends who had shared everything.

Oscar’s heart clenched painfully. He stood just a few feet away, and it felt like he’d been slapped in the face. A while? That was all she had to say about him? The countless nights they had spent talking until sunrise, the secrets they had shared, the times they had been there for each other through thick and thin—all reduced to “a while.”

For the rest of their time together, Oscar felt like a ghost, present but unseen, and the realization that Y/N barely noticed was what hurt the most. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it was far from it. He couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m heading out,” he muttered to no one in particular, but Y/N didn’t even notice as he slipped out the door.

Later that night, Y/N texted him, asking if he got home okay. There was no apology, no acknowledgment of how she had brushed him aside. Just a casual check-in that felt more like an afterthought.

Oscar stared at the message, feeling a deep sadness settle in his chest. He had always known that Y/N was special to him, that she held a place in his heart no one else could ever fill. But now, he was starting to realize that she didn’t see him the same way—not anymore.

Maybe she never did, he thought bitterly, tossing his phone aside and sinking into bed, the weight of her neglect pressing down on him like a lead blanket. Maybe I’ve just been fooling myself this whole time.

end of flashback

And Oscar… he was hurting.

One evening, Y/N burst into Oscar's apartment with her usual energy. “Osc, you won’t believe it! We’re going on another date tonight—he’s taking me to this really cute café downtown!” Her voice was full of excitement, but Oscar barely heard her.

He was curled up on the couch, a familiar spot that once felt warm with her presence now felt cold and empty.

“That’s great,” he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

She frowned, finally noticing the difference. “What’s wrong? You’ve been weird lately.”

Oscar wanted to say it. He wanted to shout that he was tired of being pushed aside, tired of being the second choice. But instead, he just shook his head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Y/N wasn’t convinced. She moved closer, sitting beside him. “Oscar, talk to me. Please.”

Oscar looked at her, really looked at her, and felt his heart shatter a little more. He was losing her, and the worst part was that she didn’t even realize it. “I miss you,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N blinked, surprised. “I’m right here, O.”

“No, you’re not,” he replied, his tone sharper now. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that I’ve barely seen you. You’re always with him, talking about him. And I… I’m just here, waiting for you to remember me.”

She frowned, her face softening as she reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away. “Oscar, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Of course you didn’t,” he interrupted, his frustration boiling over. “You didn’t realize because you’re happy, and I’m just… I’m just the friend who’ll always be there, right? The one you can ignore until you need him.”

Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face. “That’s not true, Oscar. You know you mean everything to me.”

“Do I?” he challenged, standing up and pacing the room. “Because it doesn’t feel like it, Y/N. It feels like I’m losing you, and it’s killing me.”

The air between them grew thick with tension, the kind that had never existed before. Y/N stood up too, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to reach out to him again. “Oscar, please don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve already left me?” he snapped, his voice breaking. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his emotions in check but failing miserably. “You don’t get it, Y/N. You have no idea how much this hurts.”

“Then tell me!” she cried, her voice cracking with desperation. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!”

Oscar froze, the words caught in his throat. This was it. This was the moment he could tell her everything, but he couldn’t find the courage. Instead, he just shook his head, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Oscar, please don’t say that,” she whispered, stepping closer to him, but he stepped back, creating a distance between them that felt like miles.

“I love you,” he blurted out, his voice trembling. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve tried to bury it, to just be your friend, but I can’t anymore. I can’t stand watching you with someone else. It’s killing me, Y/N.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes wide with shock. “Oscar… I… I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” he said bitterly, wiping away a tear that had escaped. “You didn’t know because I never told you. But now… now it’s too late. You’re with him, and I’m just… I’m nothing.”

Oscar’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt as he stared at Y/N, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had tried to hold it in for so long, but the weight of her neglect was too much to bear, and now, it was all spilling out.

“You know, Y/N, I get that you’re excited about Jake. I really do. But do you even realize what you’ve been doing? Or should I say, what you haven’t been doing?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Oscar, what are you talking about? I’ve just been—”

“No, don’t,” he cut her off sharply, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare try to brush this off like it’s nothing. You’ve been so wrapped up in your new relationship that you’ve completely forgotten about me. About us. Do you even remember the last time we had an actual conversation that wasn’t interrupted by you checking your phone? Or the last time we made plans that you didn’t cancel for Jake?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She was struggling to process the raw emotion pouring out of him.

Oscar continued, his voice rising as the frustration he had been holding back for weeks finally broke free. “I’ve been your best friend for how long now? I’ve always been there for you, always. But ever since you started dating him, it’s like I don’t even exist anymore. You barely text me back, you cancel on me all the time, and when we do hang out, it’s like you’re not even here.”

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers, pleading for her to understand. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To go from being someone’s everything to feeling like you’re just… nothing? Like you’re just a placeholder until something better comes along?”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but Oscar was too caught up in his own pain to notice. “I get that things change when you start dating someone, but you didn’t just change—you fucking disappeared. And I’m left here, trying to figure out where the hell my best friend went. The person I could always count on, who knew me better than anyone… she’s gone.”

His voice cracked, the anger giving way to the deep hurt he had been carrying. “And you know what’s worse? I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. But I was too scared to say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up. I didn’t want to lose you. But now… it feels like I’ve lost you anyway.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen Oscar like this, so raw and vulnerable, and it terrified her.

“I tried to be happy for you,” Oscar continued, his voice quieter now, filled with a deep sadness. “I tried to convince myself that I could just be your friend and that would be enough. But it’s not enough, Y/N. Not when you treat me like I’m nothing.”

He looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “I thought I meant more to you than this. I thought we meant more. But maybe I was wrong.”

Y/N’s heart shattered at the sight of him, at the pain in his eyes. She reached out to him, desperate to hold him, to comfort him, but he pulled away again, shaking his head.

“I can’t be around you right now,” Oscar said, his voice broken. “I need time… I need to figure out how to stop loving you.”

“Oscar, please don’t go,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “We can talk about this—”

But Oscar had already turned away, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I can’t.”

With that, he left, leaving Y/N standing in the middle of the room, her heart aching with the weight of what had just happened. She sank to the floor, sobs wracking her body as she realized that the one person she needed most was the one she had pushed away.

And Oscar, driving aimlessly through the city, felt more alone than he ever had in his entire life, knowing that he had finally spoken his truth, but at what cost?

time skip

Y/N was left alone in the apartment, her mind reeling from everything Oscar had said. As the door slammed shut behind him, she crumpled to the floor, her chest tightening with an overwhelming sense of loss. The tears came in uncontrollable waves, each sob tearing through her as she gasped for breath.

How did I not see this? she thought, her mind racing. How could I be so blind?

She buried her face in her hands, the memories flooding back—every moment they had shared, every laugh, every hug, every time Oscar had been there for her, and she had taken it all for granted. They played like a cruel montage in her mind, the pieces finally falling into place.

I’ve always loved him, she realized, the truth hitting her like a punch to the gut. But I was too scared… too scared of losing him, of ruining everything.

She thought back to every time they had cuddled on the couch, his arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and warm. She had always known there was something more between them, something unspoken, but she had pushed it down, terrified of what it would mean if she acknowledged it. Because if I lost Oscar… I’d lose everything.

Her phone was in her hand before she even realized it, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. Each ring felt like an eternity, the silence on the other end growing heavier with every passing second.

Voicemail.

“Hey, this is Oscar. I'm probably driving really fast or I'm not in the mood. Anyway I’ll get back to you.”

The beep echoed in her ears, and she quickly hung up, her heart pounding as panic set in. She dialed again, desperately hoping he would pick up this time, that she could tell him everything she was feeling before it was too late. But once again, it went to voicemail.

“Oscar, please,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaking as she redialed, only to be met with the same message. Each time the voicemail beeped, she hung up, feeling the hope drain out of her.

Finally, after the fifth failed attempt, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. The voicemail beeped, and she began to speak, her voice thick with tears.

“Oscar, it’s me. Please, please, just listen to this… I—I’m so sorry,” she started, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it, sorry I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I’ve been so selfish, so blind, and I didn’t even notice what I was doing to you.”

She paused, trying to steady her breathing, but the tears kept coming. “I… I’m terrified, Oscar. I’ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And that’s why I never… I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t there, we could stay the same forever.”

Her voice cracked as she continued, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “But I do love you, Oscar. I love you so much it hurts. And the thought of losing you… of you walking out of my life… I can’t bear it. I was so scared that if I admitted how I felt, everything would change, and I’d lose you forever. But now I realize… I was losing you anyway.”

She choked on a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth as she tried to hold herself together. “Please, Oscar, don’t shut me out. I know I messed up, I know I hurt you, but I need you to know that you mean everything to me. You always have. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, that I didn’t see it until now.”

Y/N wiped at her tears, her voice trembling as she spoke the final words. “Please, Oscar, don’t walk away. I love you… I love you so much, and I’m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Please… please don’t leave me.”

The message ended, the silence that followed felt deafening. Y/N let the phone slip from her hand, her body shaking with sobs as she curled up on the floor, consumed by the fear that it might be too late, that she might have lost him for good.

Please, Oscar, come back to me.

time skip

Oscar sat on a bench near the parking lot, his car parked a few meters away. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. His heart felt heavy, his mind spinning with everything that had just happened. He didn’t know where to go, or what to do, so he just sat there, staring blankly into the distance, replaying their fight over and over again in his mind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking through his thoughts. He pulled it out, seeing Y/N’s name flash on the screen with a voicemail notification. His thumb hovered over the play button for a moment, hesitant. Part of him didn’t want to hear what she had to say, afraid it would only hurt him more. But another part, the part that had loved her for so long, needed to know.

With a deep breath, he pressed play.

As Y/N’s voice filled the air, raw with emotion and thick with tears, Oscar’s heart clenched. Each word she spoke was like a dagger, cutting deeper into the hurt he was already feeling, but there was something else too—something that made his breath catch in his throat.

“I… I’m terrified, Oscar. I’ve always been terrified of losing you, of messing this up, of losing the best thing in my life. And that’s why I never… I never let myself feel what I was feeling. I thought if I pretended it wasn’t there, we could stay the same forever.”

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. He could hear the desperation in her voice, the regret, the love she had been too scared to admit. It mirrored everything he had felt for so long, everything he had been too afraid to say.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as the message continued, her confession unfolding in a way he had never imagined but had always longed for. The voicemail ended with her pleading, the words echoing in his mind, “Please, Oscar, don’t walk away. I love you… I love you so much, and I’m begging you to give me a chance to make this right. Please… please don’t leave me.”

He sat there, stunned, the silence that followed almost unbearable. He played the message again, needing to hear it one more time to believe it was real. As Y/N’s voice replayed, full of vulnerability and love, something shifted inside him. The anger he had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a deep, aching love that had never gone away.

Just as the message ended for the second time, Oscar became aware of a presence behind him. He turned around slowly and saw Y/N standing a few feet away, her face pale and tear-streaked, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She must have found him while he was listening to the voicemail, and now she stood there, silent, waiting.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The weight of the situation hung between them, both of them trying to process what had just happened. Finally, Oscar broke the silence, his voice soft and tentative.

“You… you really mean that?” he asked, his gaze locking onto hers, searching for any sign that this was all some kind of cruel joke.

Y/N nodded, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Every word, Oscar. I mean it. I’ve been so scared of ruining what we had that I didn’t realize I was ruining it by pushing you away. But I do love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m so, so sorry it took me this long to realize it.”

Oscar stood up, taking a hesitant step toward her. “I didn’t want to lose you either,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought if I kept my feelings to myself, we could just keep going the way we were. But it was killing me, Y/N. Watching you with Jake�� it felt like I was losing you, and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, stepping closer until they were just inches apart. “You were never going to lose me, Oscar. You’re my best friend, and you always will be. But… I want more than that. I need more than that. I love you, and I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Oscar’s eyes softened, the pain of the past weeks slowly fading as he looked at her, really looked at her, and saw everything he had ever wanted. “Of course I’ll have you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve wanted that for so long, Y/N. I love you too, more than anything. I just… I didn’t think you felt the same.”

She smiled through her tears, reaching out to take his hand. “I do, Oscar. I’m sorry it took me so long to see it, to admit it. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Oscar pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he was afraid she might slip away if he let go. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with relief and love.

“You won’t,” Y/N whispered back, burying her face in his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Oscar. I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go.”

They stood there in the quiet night, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. It wasn’t going to be easy, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered. In that moment, they both knew they had found something worth fighting for, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally see it.

[tojisun]

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.

[muntitled]

CATCH | L. JENO

Lycan!Jeno x afab!reader

➛ Summary: Perhaps making your uncontrollable boyfriend chase you was a bad idea after all

➛ Warnings: Language, Paranormal!au, Fluff, Established Relationship, Possessiveness, Doggy Traits, Ownership Kink (he owns you in his mind) Lycan!Jeno, Cat and Mouse game, Smut +18 (mdni), Mating Press, Rutting, Primal Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Neediness, Scent Kink, Dom!Jeno, Sub!Reader, Whimpering, Breeding Kink, PIV

<3 happy spooky season

"I mean…" There's a quiet, stunned sound that leaves his lips as Jeno forces both his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He gazes at you through his hooded eyelids. "Are you sure?" You weren't sure of anything, to be completely honest and neither was he. You explain this to him with a quirk of your lips as your fingers weaved through your laces, knotting them with a quickness before your game commenced...

"It's just," he releases more distraught, more nervous habits unconsciously overcoming his body in irregular and jarring spurts. You gazed up at him from bended knee, now preoccupied by tying Jeno's laces too, and you chuckled. "It's just what, Big Boy?"

There was a chuckle that broke across the once painfully serious cracks of his visage, his smile even brighter with the elation across his face. "You know it is... probably not smart to do this. You know I'm not going to be able to-” his ears perk up. “Tighter," he asks distractedly, "-could you tie the left one just a little tighter," Jeno stomped his left foot in indication, the shriveled leaves crunching ever so slightly under the leather soles of his sneakers.

You had never quite believed in the societal construct of a soulmate until you had met Jeno. Upon your union, it all seemed to fall so surreptitiously into place that a life before him had seemed utterly bland, and so completely... boring. There was warmth that seized the man's entire countenance and you put it all to very good use. Not a single tear was shed without Jeno curling into you, quite forcefully stuffing his large, masculine frame under your armpit under a very, very strict comfort policy.

And that was before you found out about his little… biological quirk.

He didn't really know where it came from, thethats that lived inside him. It had just always been there. Jeno kept the beast restrained on most occasions but that came with some dire repercussions: finding some bits of your furniture chewed up. Jeno promising to replace. His overt and unflinching loyalty was another facet of his quirk.

You could not show if anyone at work bothered you without Jeno tapping his foot anxiously against the floorboards of your shared apartment, chewing on the ends of his nails while the rest of him was seized in restlessness. "I'm not going to leave until you tell me," He would say, pushing the door of your bedroom open every time it threatened to close shut.

"Boundaries," You would yell, "Boundaries, Jeno! You don't have to know about every detail of my life!"

"I am respecting your Boundaries," he would say, sneering his nose up at that crude dirty word.

The word that wanted you to be away from him. The word that saw you two occasionally (frustratingly) separated.

Boundaries.

"I am respecting your boundaries," he would say from the doorways. "I haven't even set foot over the line once, even though you are very clearly upset." His sweet, slightly feral obliviousness would usually aid in washing away water grievances you had acquired from your work life or outside friendships, your life untouched by Jeno. Even his flaws held a nauseating dose of happiness. His forgetfulness, his altruism, his overthinking, his restlessness. There was not a single part of your Jeno that you did not drink up in admiration. You were lucky to have him.

"I don't really see what the problem is, Jeno." You continue, "It's not like- still, Jeno, could you keep your leg still? That's why I can't tie the knot too well," You pat down his jittery leg in what you hope acts as a sedative for his nerves. It works momentarily, truthfully he just loves having your natural body heat in such close range with his. He could feel it all radiating off your palm, through his slacks no problem. He zeroed in on that particular activity far too much and it illicited a wayward shiver that wracked through his body. "It's not like you're going to hurt me," You say, tugging on the bows you had fashioned out of his laces one final time before rising from the forest floor. You dust a layer of sticks and dead leaves from your exposed knee while Jeno continues his nervous tirade. "You dont know-"

"I do know. I know that you're capable of controlling yourself, Jeno. I know that you're in love with me. I know that you'd never, ever do anything to hurt me." Eye contact. If there was a single force in the entire known (and unknown), the whole goddamn multiverse included, that could rile Jeno up with the amount of pressure stored in an atomic bomb, it was the eye contact. You gaze up at him with nothing but trust blazing in your eyes as you sunk your grip into his hoodie. A hoodie he was particularly fond of, even hesitant to part with even though he knew it was a full moon.

"I don't like losing," He admits gravely as he lifts the hoodie over his shoulders, discarding it on the forest floor. You watch with slight excitement as your boyfriend's bare skin is illuminated by the moonlight. Leaving him in nothing but his grey basketball shorts and his sneakers

"It's too close to a full moon," His lips are but a mere inch away from you. You can hear his ragged breath. It's a sound that flows in sync with the natural cacophony of the woods, the hum of the fireflies and drum of the crickets, all hidden away, singing for the couple, perched under the waning moon.

"That's part of the fun though, isn't it?" You finally break eye contact but your periphery reveals a keen-eared, frozen-solid Jeno, still watching you with the transfixed gaze of a hawk. He's starkly aware of every single thing around you, his senses being at their most potent especially when he found himself in his natural habitat.

"You're not going to run away?" You nearly chuckle at that but you hold it in, quite enjoying the charged air that is buzzing between the two of you.

"Running away's the entire point, Baby," there is a richness in your vibrato that completely does him in. A sharp, distressing growl reverberates from his chest. It bleeds into a squeaky whine when you bury your fingers into his overgrown and rugged head of hair.

"Running from me. I mean, you're not gonna end up... running away from me... forever..." he all but slurs, eyes fluttering shut as you scratch the side of his head in a way that elicited a warmth in his very bones, the need to soothe that delicious itch in his very being was unparalleled. He craved more of your touch, he craved more of you-

"You get the rest when you get me." You state firmly, much to Jeno's dismay who releases another growl, much to the shame of his almost-human- non-human self.

"It'll be fun." You reassure the man as you begin to bounce lightly on the balls of your feet. You fill your lungs with the fresh and dewey air of the woodland fencing the both of you and you ready your limbs. Jeno begins to shake his head slowly, then much more furiously as he sees you beginning to break away.

"N-No, don't-" He clamps a large hand over his mouth but the growl is heard all the same. It has your eyes wideneing in glee as you move even farther away, breaking into a slight jump before speeding off into the thickness of the wood. A wave of nausea paired with excitement zings through his entire body at the sight of your whizzing frame and his legs move on their own accord.

You're fighting to dodge brambles and branches of every kind. Trees and their obnoxious arms crisscrossing overriding one another, causing you to bend at odd and athletic angles as you sprinted through the night-veiled wood. There was an eerieness to the open space, the vastness of it, yet the density that was bestowed by the clumping, plentiful trees. You knew, had you been caught under any orher circumstances, you might have been seized bu fear. Fear was so common to you, it might as well have lived in your bloodstream. It marred itself across tue scenes of your childhood, manifesting in odd, grim drawings, the inability to sleep in the dark and a bed-wetting era you had grown out of at an embarrassingly late edge. Fear was your companion and it might have destroyed you in this very moment, when you were dodging passed tall, crooked silhouettes of pine trees... were it not for the entity- no, man- that is sending loud enough growls for you to hear on your aggressive getaway.

Butterflies soar in your stomach as your feet beat down on the uneven forest floor. You fight to keep your gaze locked on the nature-crafted obstacle coarse ahead of you, choosing to ignore the hurried lunges sounding behind you. Squirrels scatter in your wake and the owls hoot from their post. The animals watch in anticipation as your energy depletes and your breathing becomes far more ragged and spent.

An unforeseeable ache blossoms in your upper arms first as the butterflies in your bleeds into a sharp, afflicting stitch that has you veering off course. Your thighs lunge the rest of yoir heavy body forward with vigor and determination, using up all the energy you have stored inside. Soon, the world begins to tilt and you're met with the sharp end of a branch that had gone undetected by you. A small scrape slashes across your arm and yet you still keep running.

Another, final growl is sent into the air and for a brief, quiet moment you find yourself gazing up at the waning moon. This was the final evening you got to spend with your lover before the full moon took him away from you, wanting him all to herself like a selfish, immortal bitch.

It is then when you find yourself slowing down. A fire is raging in your esophagus and just as your lungs begin their reduced intake of fresh air, youre yelping as yoire being tackled to the ground with a force that knocks your air out.

"FUCK-" You curse as he rolls the both of you onto the mossy, forest floor. Somehow, he made provisions for you, making sure to lock his arm around your head as the two of you tumbled to the ground in a messy heap. The sound of rapid panting right in your ear.

When you open your arms, you are claimed underneath him. His hands resting against the sides of your head, caging you in with the promise of never letting you go again. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. As if you were a restless baby bird that he might lose again. He gazes down at you with wild eyes brimming with intensity and satisfaction from the chase you had given to him. Both of your uneven ragged breathing fill the space between you until-

"I've... I've got a cut," You whisper in between your loud breathing, "You wouldn't have caught me so soon if I hadn't-"

"Please, just shut up," He murmurs robotically before colliding his lips with yours in a furious and fiery kiss that seems to last for ages. His hands find their way at your sides, sinking his fingers into the soft skin that would otherwise be painful, but what is incredibly erotic.

You try to break away, to try and breathe but he only forces his kiss even deeper. Jeno is unsure if it's a distraught moan or a cry that bubbles up from your chest and it's the not knowing, the possibility of it being both, that has Jeno's cock aching against his pants. He experimentally ruts into your leg once and it's enough to break the kiss and have him groaning into the forest air. "Oh God," he moans in utter delight, and you watch him rut helplessly against your leg while firmly encircling a large hand around your throat. Jeno does not anticipate the strength in his grip, but he is too far gone, completely locked away in a world of pleasure as he murmurs with his hooded eyes: "Never. You never, never, never leave me like that again-"

You motion as if to respond but it's completely drowned out when he pulls down your shorts in quick, delirious movements. You steeple your legs and watch on perched elbows as Jeno kneels before you, head twitching in anticipation of your exposed heat. He can smell how excited you are, how completely helpless that one small exercise had made you for him and it drives him into an early.

You watch with intent as Jeno pulls your panties down- he nearly rips it in half, the need to mount you and spill his seed inside you was just far too great. But, Jeno remembers how badly you scolded him the last time he tore off your clothes. This time he was careful.

"Fuck, you’re gonna have my pups," He admits as he stares down at your naked body. You are bathed in moonlight, and your arousal shone prettily against your inner thighs. The string of beads around your waist shine prettily in the moonlight.

"Youre gonna to need you fuck me then, Jeno.” That tone, that goddamn tone has his eyes latching onto yours in a fraction of a second, his head nodding furiously as your words of affirmation filled him with so much zeal it felt as if he might die.

"I can do that," he says, lining his cock up with your glistening entrance, "I can be good for you. I can do that."

The confidence that had once consumed you, completely washes away as Jeno rams his length into you. By the very first thrust, he's latching onto the ends of unbuttoned shirt with one hand, while he melt to the forest floor, supported by the other.

"No, no, no, look at me, please," His command has your cunt clenching around him, illiciting a deep and painful growl from within him. Jeno's face is mere inches away from yours, as his charged and incessant 'hah, hah, hah's spill out of him with every deliciously thrust. He watches you writer underneath him. Pride and attraction dances a great dance in the confines of his heart as you lift your shaky hands to glide over his exposed chest. He was quite literally fucking you into the ground, it was unlike anything any man had ever administered. Your head moved above you with the force of his thrusts and your voice was clogged with the pressure of your oncoming orgasm.

Jeno was so thoroughly focused on cumming inside you that it overtook his entire brain. He gazed down at you with the satisfaction of claiming you, that you were his and nothing else. His scent was going to be mixed with yours and that's all that matters.

"I'm going to cum inside you," he says, rutting into you at an even wilder pace, “Gonna g-give you my seed, pretty girl- Fuck-”

You mindlessly nod as you feel your cunt begin to tighten around his cock once more. He's so deep and so quick, it's a struggle to concentrate on speaking at all.

"Tell me, please! I need you to tell me. Tell I'm a good boy for you! Tell me I can spill my seed inside you, baby please-"

Behind his huffing and fervent frame, the sky is speckled with gorgeous stars. There are stars in his hooded, pleading words and stars in his voice. He's so close to ecstasy and he needs you to reassure him. "Cum for me, baby," You bring a hand to the side of his face, causing him to lean into it with closed eyes. "You're such a good boy, Jeno. Please, cum for me." Your pussy tightening around him a singke time as him cumming on the spot. His cum, hot and heady floods your insides. It's so much. You're being so completely filled. Your hand twitches om his cheek and your back arches as your own oegasm washes over you. A glorious, heavenly ecstasy overtakes your entire being and Jeno buries his head in the crook of your neck. His cock still thrusts into you as you ride the high, your mouth open in a silent cry as your arms lock around his head.

"My beautiful girl," He mutters as you float back down to earth, "My gorgeous, beautiful girl." The kisses you're met with is endless as your shoulder slump and you're transported, once again, to the real world.

The biggest smile you have ever had the pleasure of witnessing is stitched onto his face as Jeno peers up at you from laying his head on your chest. "Again," he says, causing you to laugh in completely disbelief. "We go again. This time I'll give you a head start-"

"Down boy," you say, keeping your head wrapped around his head, "Let me catch my breath first."

[mistymisfit]

Dirty A-Z headcanon game  

MINORS DNI!!!

Implied that reader is shorter than Jason. Most are GN reader, except the pet names (princess and ma) but other than no specified gender :)

My personal headcanons. Sorry everyone, I don't think he'd be all that kinky, he just needs some affection fr. I have a Dick Grayson version on my drafts, and he is a slut so wait for that one lol.

Finished this draft trying to get out of writer's block, I don't think it worked lol.

edit: fixed some typos

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

On nights where he spends too much time away from you, and he starts missing your your kisses, your warmth, your jokes, your hands on him, and his on you, he's forced to take out the big guns. That encrypted (mentioned in point P) folder he keeps as protected as he can for your safety. It has a few videos, some of them more intense, others more goofy with you two laughing. The one he watches the most is the one that begins with him telling you to say something to check the sound and you reply with "I love you" a sweet smile on your lips. The camera's then hurriedly left on the nightstand, and your giggling ensues with him kissing you all over your face.

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

Absolutely against being the one tied up, past traumas and all, he needs to be able to move for his peace of mind. Completely opposite opinion if you're the one being tied, especially if he's tying your wrists with his costume's garrote (ribbons).

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Very much into you crying, and he definitely feels conflicted about it. He wants nothing more than seeing you happy and safe, so why is his dick getting hard when he sees tears streaming down your pretty face? Also, yes, he cries during sex!!! It's not always, but sex is such a vulnerable moment for him--something he struggles with very much, so he can't help but shed a few tears. And you're also into it. Truly matching each other's freaks.

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?)

Prefers dominating, low-key a control freak, and is obsessed with the amount of trust you have on him. If he's letting you take control, it's in a more "let me take care of you, baby" way. On some occasions, more often than he'd like to admit he enjoys it more when you both refuse to let the other take charge, usually happens after an argument (see next point). He'd never admit it but he likes that more than anything.

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

Marking: He would never hurt you, really. But there's something about his teeth leaving a mark on your skin, the whimper you let out every time he does it, and the soft kiss he leaves behind after he's done. God forbid he draws blood, it drives him up the wall. It's only fair game that he'd let you do it too, catching himself proudly smirking when he catches a glimpse of the scratches you left across his back. Or the time you bit his shoulder as you came, he followed shortly after. He's never lost his composure that fast before.

Role-Playing: It started with you joking once, playing damsel in distress and acting like he'd just saved you from a life-threatening situation, but it awoke something in him. Something something about calming his anxieties about not being able to keep you safe. He asked if you could do it more often, you nodded excitedly. If you knew it'd get him so riled up, you'd put yourself in danger earlier. Would love to fuck in his Red Hood get up but he thinks it'd be too impersonal to you--you'd agree in a second if he asked.

Praise kink: He needs you to tell him he's good, that you want him. You told him "I need you, Jay," and he's never taken his clothes off so fast. Most times it's not sexual; he just loves hearing you tell him he's doing a good job.

Make up sex: Jason likes seeing you mad, something about how feisty you get and how you could be as stubborn as him turns him the fuck on. He likes how rough you both get, gripping each other's clothes, hair pulling and biting harder than what you two usually do. Sometimes he starts arguments for this sole reason.

F - Food play (do they like using food in the bedroom? are there any foods they prefer to use during sex or foreplay? any they’d like to try?)

He got hit with fear toxin one time, you spent a couple of days taking care of him until he came down from a nasty fever. A side effect to the antidote Alfred and Bruce couldn't work out yet. You spoon-fed him soup, and he swears he fell in love with you all over again. If he hadn't been so sick he would've knocked over the plate and kissed you senseless.

Also! He likes watching you eat whatever he cooks. Sometimes he waits for you at home with dinner ready, well aware you always come back home starving. Most times, too hungry to cook a decent meal. So watching you sigh when you take your first bite, telling him how good it is, how much of a good boyfriend he's for doing this for you, his blush reaches his ears. He's just winning his way to your bedroom heart with food.

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?)

Another no for him. Jason's not good at sharing, he's way too possessive to share your attention. And honestly, it'd hurt his ego a little bit if you were to suggest it. He's insecure, so his mind would instantly go to "I'm not enough"

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?)

See point E. He's too in love to call you a bitch. He's not exactly opposed to the idea of having kids with you someday if you wanted to, and he just can't imagine calling the future mother of his kids a whore. However, he's not past calling you a "fucking brat" if you keep on teasing him or using a mocking tone every once in a while like "Aw, is it too much? Thought you said you were a big girl"

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Not specifically into spanking but has slapped your ass before, heart skipping a beat when his hand left an imprint on your skin. You could awake something in him if you tried, for sure.

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

He's a big boy, so you could imagine what he's got under his pants is proportionate to the rest of him. He'd use it to make sure he won't hurt you, but he's more old fashioned prefering making you cum a couple times to prep you.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

He's a hungry kisser, knocks the air out of your lungs, grabbing your face, knocking things over as you take a step back not to fall type of kiss. Tied in with C, he likes kissing the tears off your face. Most random spots he likes to kiss are the back of your knees and your ankles when he puts them on his shoulders. If he's sitting down and you're standing in between his legs, petting his head, he'll most likely kiss your stomach.

He has a spot, his pulse point on his neck, not easy to reach considering his height, so he has to be in a horizontal position for you to reach. You kiss him there, and he melts instantly. And his back, if you manage to cuddle as the big spoon and start pressing kisses across his back, he could pass out right there. Matter of fact, any kiss from you makes him melt, he's touch starved, so any contact you initiate flusters him.

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?)

At first, off. You have to work your way until he's comfortable enough to have some dim lights on. He's too afraid to scare you off with his scars.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?)

Scratching, biting, are all fair game with him. He's a bit feral like that. Doesn't like being spoken down; his ego's fragile enough from all his own self-hatred. Being bossed around? He's almost incapable of following orders, this man had no figure of authority before Bruce when he was a kid.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

He's tried, seriously, but all you had to do was beg a little and look at him with those glassy eyes, and his resolve faded away fast. He's unable to say no to you; you know it and often use it to your advantage.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Yes, on his car, the bat-mobile he stole once just out of spite (Bruce was well aware he took it- and traumatized to find out his adoptive son's reasons) and against his bike on an empty parking lot (that one was pure wish fulfillment for him)

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?)

For safety reasons he doesn't keep any pictures or videos on any phone (he's got many). HOWEVER, he has a couple of encrypted-not even Babs wouldn't be able to hack- videos of you two for times he stays away from you for long.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

He whimpers!!! he acts though but he's a whimperer!!! It takes a while before you warm him up to make more noise, he was shy at first. On the other hand if you were quiet he'd worry, he need some encouragement to know he's doing good.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

Jason's not really one for one night stands, he has problems with vulnerability--and intimacy as a consequence. He's more of a spur of the moment guy; everything else he does is planned-- stopping some villains' plans, striking a drug trade deal--, so he's glad he gets to be more spontaneous with you.

Once you're in an established relationship, and he knows you're okay with him being blunt, he'd straight up ask you. "Can we have sex when I get back home?" you got a text while he was out on patrol; you blushed and giggled before telling him "yeah" and "wake me up if I fall asleep." he replied with a smiley emoji.

"Babe?" His hands held your hips, correcting your posture. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body behind you, and there's no reason why he should be sticking this close to you. He insisted on teaching you some self-defense moves, so now you were both sweaty, the furniture in your shared apartment moved so you could have more space to move freely. Sure, he could've brought you down to the cave, but this was more private and intimate. You hummed in response, eyes looking up at him. "Wanna ruin the carpet?"

Or he catches you bending over, your arms resting on the kitchen island, mindless watching something on your phone. He stands behind you, hands grabbing your hips. You look back, and you're about to ask him what he's doing when he wins, saying "Haven't had you like this in a while, you busy right now?"

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)

Being fucked awake would probably be too overwhelming for him. And no matter how many times you told him it's okay, he probably wouldn't like that doing it to you. BUT he's very much waking you up kissing you so you could have lazy, half asleep, sex. In his head, it feels extra intimate, even more if he does it in the attempt to make you stay in bed with him a little longer.

T - Top or bottom (self explanatory…)

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

In your opinion, the sexiest underwear he could wear is a towel right after he showers, hair still dripping water onto his chest. It makes you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his uncovered torso as he looks for clean clothes in his drawer. You stand on your tip toes to press your lips between his shoulder blades. He turns around, smirking and already knows exactly what you want.

"We'll get the bed wet" He reasons

"Don't care" You smile, fingers tracing his v line stopping where the towel starts.

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?)

Wouldn't like anyone seeing you two in that situation. Even if he convinced you to have sex in a risky place most times, he's already gotten rid of any possible outcome where you two end up on a certain list. Also watching? He can barely keep his hands to himself around, in a sexual way or not. He's just touch starved like that.

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

I may be biased but I don't really think he'd be into watersports lmao.

Shower sex is a yes, he particularly loves when he comes back from patrol and you get in the shower with him, helping wash the blood off. He's always a bit shaken when he comes home, thinking about his own mortality and how fragile life is, and it ends up with something else. Just to feel alive. Jason's very fond of moments where you run him a bath, in the hopes of calming his nerves and the soreness in his muscles. You'd sit next to him, outside the tub, washing his hair. He'd always manage to find a way to convince you into getting in and riding him.

X - X-dressing (do they crossdress as a part of teasing / foreplay? does crossdressing turn them on? turn their partner on? do they prefer to do it or watch their partner crossdress instead? do they use other costumes? cat ears, tails, etc?)

Not exactly cross dressing lol. But if he catches wearing any of his clothes, it's over for him. You put on his Red Hood muzzle once, and he couldn't get it out of his head for a month straight.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Him to you: Sweet pet names, most used are princess, pretty, baby, him calling you ma with a breathless sighs makes you want to jump his bones--again.

You to him: Handsome, if you want to see his entire face turn red. He also likes hearing you moan his name. My love, you called him this once while sitting on his lap and felt his attitude change, clearing his throat, and moving you away from his crotch.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Like mentioned before, his pulse point on his neck. If he's mad at you, all you have to do is trace your fingers under his shirt and over the hem of his pants, and he's already forgotten why he was pissed off to begin with. You were play fighting with him once and dragged your teeth through his bicep, threatening to bite if he didn't let you go, he didn't silently waiting for you to sink your teeth into his skin. Even hoped for a scar, a permanent mark that didn't come from violence but affection.

[sweetiecutie]

you and childhood best friend Simon losing your virginities together on your birthday🥺

Pairing: childhood friend! Simon Riley x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, both reader and Simon are implied to be 19 or so, fluffy smut, lose of virginity on both sides, fingering, unprotected sex and pulling out as contraception (DON’T DO THAT)

A/n: god anon, that’s absolutely fucking ADORABLE!!! I enjoyed writing this sm! It turned out a bit longer than I originally planned but it is what it is.

You and your best friend Simon were sprawled out on your soft bed, soft pink sheet were rustling underneath your bodies whenever you moved. Some stupid show was playing on your laptop but neither of you paid much attention, chatting and laughing at each other’s stupid jokes, tummies full of delicious cake and aromatic tea cold and long forgotten on your bedside.

- What else does my angel want for her birthday? You know I’ll do anything you want, - Simon said quietly, his voice slightly raspy from chain smoking. Corners of his thin lips rose up in small smile, the one he reserved for you only; his hand came up to tuck a stand of loose hair behind your ear, gently pinching the apple of your cheek as he did so.

You just shrugged your shoulders meekly, smiling and blushing uncontrollably at this cheeky gesture:

- Nothing, just wanna be with you, - you said, looking up at Simon through long lashes, feeling your tummy flutter at the sight of his gummy smile upon hearing your words, those adorable dimples that you wanted to kiss so much showing on his stubble-pecked cheeks. You felt a sudden fit of courage simmering in your chest, so you added tentatively: - And maybe a small kiss?

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you watched Simon freeze, his body tensing for a few long moments after registering your words. Then his smile widened slowly as he sat upright from his semi-lying position, scooting over to be closer to you.

- I’ll give you as many as you wish princess, - he promised quietly, tip of his tongue running over his lips impatiently before pressing them against your own, big calloused hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. You hummed into the kiss contentedly, releasing long a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Your hands rested on Simon’s sides, crumpling soft cotton of his tee in between your trembling from nerves fingers, causing the hem to ride up, giving a glimpse on milky skin of his stomach.

Simon felt as if the whole world was spinning around and in the centre of it was you - gorgeous little you, all pretty and dolled up for your birthday, so pliant and soft in his rough hands. He couldn’t help himself from pushing his lips against yours a bit harder, small moan tearing through his chest upon the taste of your cherry scented lipgloss - god he’s been dreaming of this his whole fucking life.

Neither of you could tell how exactly everything happened - it was a mess of hot messy kisses full of tongue and shared saliva, hands raking up and down each other’s bodies, sloppily moulding and caressing, finally able to do so after years of yearning. You were laying on your back with Simon slotted cozily in between your thighs, his t-shirt off, button and zipper of his jeans undone, your greedy fingers cupping his hard-on through black cotton of his boxers, rubbing and stroking his throbbing cock. Blonde cussed under his breath, sucking another pretty mark on the side of your neck, his hands kneading soft pudge of your tits, pinching and tweaking sensitive nipples gently.

Simon didn’t hesitate to shift one of his hands lower, rubbing you through your pretty panties, cooing at the wetness seeping through them.

- Want you s’bad, Si, - you whined, bucking your hips against your best friend’s hand, feeling his cock twitch under your fingers at your words.

- Gotta work you open first, dearie, - he murmured and placed a small peck at the tip of your nose, doing quick work at shedding your clothes down, leaving you flushed and naked under him. Running two of his fingers over your slit he opened your folds, groaning at how fucking drenched you were for him. With his thumb rubbing and prodding at your clit a bit clumsily blonde carefully worked one finger inside of your fluttering hole, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. No matter how many times you stuffed yourself full of your fingers, everything felt tenfold better with Simon.

Soon he added a second, and then third fingers in, spreading you open on his thick knuckles, making you feel so full and needy for more. You synchronised the pace of your jerking on Simon’s cock with the his digits fucking in and out of you, eliciting a throaty groan from his.

- Can’t wait no more, I need to be inside of you, - Simon hissed, taking his fingers out of you, leaving you so cold and empty as he hastened to tear his pants and underwear off, crawling back in between your soft thighs. - Can I?

You nodded fervently, watching with wide eager eyes as your best friend pumped his cock a few times, spreading shiny bead of precum all over his brownish tip. Aligning himself with your awaiting entrance he met your eyes, making sure you wanted it still. Receiving a small yes that fell from your kiss swollen lips he pushed carefully, breaking into your virgin pussy. It stung still, even despite your pooling slickness and all the stretching. Simon hissed under his breath, head thrown backwards providing you with delicious view of his strong neck and chiselled adam’s apple, his face scrunched up as he fought the urge to bottom out inside your tight cunny, cumming shamefully quick.

Staying like that for a few long minutes to allow both of you to get used to completely new feeling Simon crouched down to pepper small butterfly kisses all over your cheeks and forehead, his affection melting your insides into a sparkly goo. Blonde took one of your hands and guided it down to where your sexes connected:

- Show me how you like to be touched.

And so you did, rubbing your clit in full circles, tight pleasure of it helping to ease all unpleasant feelings from first penetration. Simon cussed under his breath, feeling how you clamped down on his needy cock, pushing your hand away and taking over your clit, imitating the pace you’ve just shown him. With added stimulation you relaxed further into him, your walls declamping, allowing Simon to finally move.

His first thrusts were faltering and hesitant, not wanting to move too fast or rough to hurt your thus stretched walls any further. Slowly but surely picking up pace Simon soon was fucking you into your mattress, his cock brushing that one spot within you repeatedly, his thumb massaging tight figures eights on your swollen needy clit.

- That’s my birthday girl, so perfect for me. God you feel amazing, I could’ve cum right this instant, - Simon moaned, thrusting his hips against yours gently, fucking himself in and out of your needy cunny on slow sensual pace.

- Si, I think I’m gunna cum, - you whined out, feeling familiar heaviness settling in the pit of your tummy, your nerves aflame with newfound pleasure. Your hands gripped onto Simon’s buff biceps, seeking out some grounding; his hips faltered slightly, deep throaty moan rolling off his tongue - realisation alone that you were going to cum because of him was enough to push him right over the edge.

- Cum f’ me, pretty girl. Cum on my cock, let me make you feel good, - he encouraged, his thumb rubbing your clit more fervently, pushing you right into the pit of pleasure. Your body jolted as a wave of pure pleasure crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your eyes to roll back and toes curl. White dots were dancing before your eyes, white noise thrumming in your ears as you rode out your orgasm, your puffy pussy clenching and clamping down on Simon’s drooling cock, bringing him right to his limit.

- Ffffuuuuuck, - blonde gritted you, pulling his cock out and jerking it ferociously with his rough fist, a few pumps were enough for Simon to shoot his pearly cum onto your heaving tummy, staining your skin with milky ropes.

Crashing on the bed next to you Riley scooped you up in his tight embrace, holding you close to his heaving chest, thick fingers tangling themselves in between soft strands of your hair. Simon pressed soft kisses onto your hairline, making you giggle in post-coital bliss, snugging closer to your now lover.

- You can’t imagine how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you like that, - he murmured against your skin, inhaling lungfuls of your shampoo mixed with your favourite perfume. - God I’m not letting you get out of bed after that<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some feedback <3 Also, requests are open

[lymtw]

Thinking of Gojo working with you to get you to believe that you deserve things.

"Come on, baby. Show me those pretty eyes," he murmurs, kissing your tears of frustration away. He knows how bad it must suck to be kept on the edge for so long, especially with his constant pace. It's only enough to make you crave more of him, but be would be lying if he said he wasn't getting off to the sounds you let out. "Baby..." he coos, his nose buried in your neck. "You wanna cum?"

The question finally gets a reaction that isn't whimpering and sobbing out of you. You nod your head, frantically, your glossy eyes opening and darting around the room as you try to readjust your vision to the light. Satoru licks a stripe up the side of your neck, an airy chuckle leaving him when you shudder at how he transitions into sucking on your delicate skin immediately after. The tears you shed clumped your eyelashes together, making them appear as thick spikes whenever you looked up or lidded your gaze.

He pulls away from the fresh marks on your skin, admiring them for a few seconds before casting his attention towards your puppy eyed expression, resulting from the sudden stillness of his hips.

"Look at my pretty girl," he says, his tone provocative as he allows his eyes to rake over your trembling body and pretty, yet, ruined demeanor. "You deserve everything you want in the world, don't you?"

You can't find the words to respond to him when he holds your chin between his fingers and starts tilting it in every which way to get a look at all the new decorations he left on you. He ends the inspection by turning your head back to its original position, his gaze centered on yours.

Satoru has always been fascinated by your eyes, despite having the most enchanting eyes himself. He loves the color of them, and the way they express what you feel so well, when you can't. He loves how they're gleaming with more tears that are ready to cascade down your cheeks. You're damn near angelic.

"Don't you?" He repeats, a soft smile on his face as he runs his fingers over your ribs.

"Yes! I-I do, Satoru!" You break. "Please," your voice goes quiet towards the end, a weak cry for mercy. You squirm beneath the ghost-like touch of his lithe fingers, indirectly trying to get some friction for your neglected clit, which only earns you more limitation when he realizes and presses his palms down onto your hips to hold you steady.

"I've been telling you this all along, babe." He tsks, playfully. "Too bad you don't agree with me until your back is against the wall, or in this case, the mattress." He kisses along your collarbones, then your chin, and keeps going up until he's face to face with you again. He presses his forehead against yours, not caring that it's a little sticky with sweat. "You're a good girl who deserves the world and more," he whispers. "You won't cum until you learn this lesson." He nuzzles his nose against yours, smiling innocently when you let out a weighted whimper. "Love you, baby."

Thus began one of the longest nights you've had with Satoru. There was lots of instruction, lots of validation, and so much repetition of affirmations he needed you to carry in your mind at all times. Throughout the night, there was enough patience to fill three humans. All of it came from Satoru, and by the end, there was a blissful expression on the face of someone who got so many deserved, mind-numbing orgasms, that they blacked out—you.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve lays in his bed with thoughts of Eddie in the boathouse. For some reason, he wants to go to him. Hell, he knows he probably can't sleep, and they need him as well rested as they can so he can stay on alert through this whole hunt the freak thing.

Plus, a small part of him knows what it's like to be stuck with your thoughts late at night after dealing with the Upside Down shit. And it's not pleasant. Especially alone.

Another part of him knows that Dustin would never be okay if something happened to Eddie after they told him things would be fine.

But things will be fine. Especially if Steve goes to the boathouse and keeps watch for part of the night.

He throws on some more layers and grabs a protein bar for Eddie before driving that way, trying not to get too weirded out by the concept of him hanging out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Hopefully this time he won't be threatened with that damn broken bottle.

He pulls up a little ways away from Reefer Rick's place and parks before grabbing his nail bat and creeping his way to the shed. He rounds the side toward the door and knocks lightly, whisper yelling, "Eddie! It's Steve! Open up!"

He waits a few moments before sighing and raising his voice. "I'm opening the door. Just don't kill me."

He slowly opens the door, glancing around the boathouse and finding it empty. He glances at the tarp over the boat and sighs, "Eddie, I know you're under there. It's just me."

The tarp shifts slightly, and Steve stares up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Okay, I get it. You don't trust me, and you have no reason to really. But we both know Dustin would kill me if I ever attempted to hurt you or turn you in. Plus, I know you're innocent, so I'm just going to stay here until you come out." He pauses before adding on, "I'll even hum so you know where I am."

He starts humming the first song that comes to mind which ends up being "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

The tarp shifts and Steve watches as Eddie slowly reveals himself, bottle in hand, pointed at Steve. His eyes flicker to the bat in Steve's hand.

Steve stops humming. "It's for your safety," he says, lifting it up a little.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Steve gets the message before he drops the bat and raises his hands in surrender.

Eddie nods at him. "What's in your hand?"

Steve glances up and tosses the protein bar at Eddie. "Food," he says as Eddie curses, failing to catch the bar.

Steve takes a step closer but Eddie holds out the bottle to him and stands up. "Why are you here?"

"To make sure you're safe."

He looks unconvinced.

Steve shrugs and crosses his arms. "Okay, I know what it's like trying to process all this shit on your own, and it sucks, man. I didn't have anyone with me the first night after everything went down, and I didn't think I would make it through the night without that thing coming back."

"So what? You're here to help the freak with no ulterior motive, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You can tell me to leave, but I don't really want to spend the night alone either," Steve confesses, hoping that it will help Eddie trust him a bit.

Eddie only stares at him for a few moments before leaning out of the boat to pick up the bat before sitting down and picking up the protein bar. He unwraps it and bites off half of it before asking, "Tears for Fears, really?"

It takes a second for Steve to really understand what Eddie's asking before he smiles slightly. "That's what you're worried about?"

Eddie shrugs, taking around his mouthful, "I was just wondering if you really thought that's the type of music I'm into."

"It's the first song that came to mind. But no. I know you're into that metal stuff that Mike's been going on about." Steve takes a tentative step forward, watching the way Eddie's eyes follow the step.

He raises his eyebrows when Eddie glances up at him and shifts a bit before gesturing to the spot in front of him. Steve takes the invitation and sits in front of him, shifting a bit around the boat before grimacing.

"I bet you're missing your bed," Eddie comments as he finishes off the bar, dropping the wrapper in the boat before grabbing his broken bottle again. Luckily this time, he doesn't point it in Steve's direction.

"A bit," Steve confesses as he fails to get comfortable. He wishes he could take Eddie back to his home and maybe even give him the guest bedroom so he doesn't have to stay here.

Wait.

Steve glances up to where Eddie is tightly gripping the handle of his bat and the neck of the broken bottle and slowly reaches out his hand, asking for the bat. As Eddie hands it over reluctantly, Steve says, "Why don't you stay at my house for now? No one would guess you would be there."

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting caught with me."

"Well, it's too late for that." Steve says before circling back a bit to ask, "Why?"

Eddie shrugs and glances down at the bottle. "Because Dustin would kill me."

Steve sighs and lays the bat on the side of the boat. "You can hide in the back of my car on the drive there. It'll be easy to sneak you in."

"And your parents?"

"Gone for the foreseeable future. And even if they do come back, I can hide you in my closet or something."

Eddie shoots him a look. "Comfortable."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Eddie glances around the boathouse. "I don't mind staying here at the moment."

Steve's not sure why he wants to fight him on it so bad, but he gives in and says, "Just consider it after we've killed Vecna and we're going through the whole clearing your name process, okay?"

"Why?"

The question takes Steve off guard, but he easily deflects saying, "Because Dustin would kill me."

Eddie nods and looks off, getting that same far-off haunted look on his face. Before Steve can attempt to distract him Eddie snaps out of it asking, "And if someone comes here now, how will you explain why you're here?"

Steve glances around and looks at the windows and door. "Okay, maybe we should get under the tarp before that happens."

Eddie stares at him. "You want to get cozy with me in this boat?"

"I want to save both of our asses for now. If we hear something, we stay hidden, and if they come inside, we grab the bat and bottle and we attack." Get cozy with him?

Eddie sighs, "Can't wait," before shifting to sit next to Steve, placing his bottle carefully down toward the end of the boat before grabbing the tarp.

Steve shifts the bat, nails side at the end of the boat and shifts to lay back.

Eddie glances down at him and asks, "Ready?"

Steve nods as Eddie pulls the tarp over them and lays back. In the process, he ends up jostling Steve and shifting him to the side, almost getting his leg stabbed by the bat as Eddie curses about the bottle. They both shift to face each other, quickly noticing that they're around the same height with the way their feet are knocking into each other their breath is mingling together.

It is very weirdly intimate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks.

Steve hums in response.

"Maybe we should pull the tarp back until we hear something."

"Great plan," Steve says quickly, reaching up to pull the tarp back a bit.

There's a bit of moonlight shining through the windows which illuminates Eddie's face enough for Steve to be able to admire him. Steve blames the intimate position for his thoughts about how Eddie "The Freak" Munson is kind of beautiful.

Eddie's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Steve quickly looks away and lies, "Just thinking."

"About?"

Steve takes a moment and readjusts a bit. "Just never thought I would be hanging out with you."

Eddie shifts as well, accidentally brushing his hand against where Steve's own hand lies between them. Eddie's hand shoots back to his chest. "if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't call this hanging out. We're just two people who are linked through some supernatural shit with parallel worlds and are trying to keep each other alive so Dustin doesn't kill us." He lets out a slow deep breath through his nose and glances away. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here unless you had to be."

Steve lets the feeling of regret run through him. "That's not what I meant."

"No?" Eddie challenges him.

"No," Steve confesses. "Dustin didn't ask me to come here, you know."

"So, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Eddie asks, tone dripping with disbelief.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"Yeah, you said that before."

Steve's eyebrows furrow. "And?"

"And I'm sorry if I have trouble believing it."

Steve just blinks at him, unsure what to say other than his usual apology for being an asshole in high school.

Eddie beats him to it and sighs, "You're just... Steve Harrington. And I'm 'The Freak.'"

Steve can't help but snarkily reply, "I didn't realize that was your legal name."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

As much as he hates it, Steve does understand what he means. He looks him in the eye and says, "You know if I could go back and change how I was in high school, I would. Because, trust me, being 'King Steve' was not all that it was chalked up to be. And everyone I love still sees me that way. It's like they're waiting for that guy to come back or something because they're always in disbelief that I've changed or whatever. It's all just... bullshit." He sighs out the word, trying not to think too hard about understanding what Nancy meant when she called him it.

Eddie continues to stare at him, eyes wandering over his face as if he's trying to make his own assessment of him. Or as if he's waiting for the real Steve to pop out, the inevitable asshole. Instead, he just says, "You're different than I imagined."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Give me a business day or two, and I'll get back to you about it," Eddie says with a smile.

The response startles a laugh out of Steve which he quickly covers with his hand before he rests it in the space between them. "Maybe you're different, too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"I thought you'd be way less willing to accept my presence here."

Eddie shrugs the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Well, being alone seemed to be slightly more appalling than spending time with you." He smiles and nudges him with his foot. "I'm joking. At least, now I'm joking."

Steve rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie with a little too much force, sending them both off balance and causing Steve to end up a bit sprawled out on top of Eddie who stares up at him with wide eyes.

For some reason, the new angle really does something for Steve who can only think of kissing Eddie. He leans back and takes a deep breath before an idea strikes him. He blames his tired, anxiety-ridden mind on the reason for voicing his thought, "You know, I can think of a better way to explain why I'm here if someone comes in."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, face carefully blank but a heavy swallow gives him away.

Steve shrugs. "Who is to question King Steve hooking up with some random girl in Reefer Rick's empty boathouse?"

"Christ," Eddie mumbles out, eyes flicking down to Steve's lips. "Are you suggesting we...?"

Steve looks down at him innocently. "I mean, if it comes down to it, I would be down to kiss you. Your hair is long enough to hide your face," he turns to the door and windows, "And from this angle, they would barely catch a glimpse of you."

Eddie swallows again and breathes out, "You're definitely not what I thought you'd be like."

"And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him. "Yeah, I would say it is definitely a good thing."

Steve smiles down at him and is about to shift off of him when there's a sudden noise outside of the boathouse. He feels Eddie freeze beneath him.

"Steve... I know it was probably a joke, but either cover us with the tarp or kiss me," Eddie whispers quickly.

Steve reaches out for the tarp and pulls it over their heads, noticing the slight look of disappointment on Eddie's face before the tarp blocks out the light. His hands reach out, landing on Eddie's chest before trailing up to cup his jaw.

"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his heart thudding in his chest impossibly faster at the sensation.

"Why not do both?" Steve whispers into the air between them.

He waits as Eddie's own hands come up to his shoulders, tracing their way into Steve's hair. "Both. Yeah. Both are good."

Steve's not sure who moves first, but their kiss is frenzied, filled with the anxiety of Hawkins crumbling around them along with the possibility of Eddie being caught, mixed with the fact that they're "The Hair" and "The Freak." And this is not supposed to be happening.

But Steve doesn't care. He deepens the kiss, groaning when Eddie tugs at his hair and pulls him closer. God, Steve can practically feel the kiss go through his full body, and he can't remember the last time a kiss made him feel like this.

The air around them under the tarp gets warmer as the kiss goes on, and Steve finds himself breaking away for air only to chase Eddie's lips again. It's all intoxicating. And the warm air makes it feel like he isn't getting enough air as Eddie practically sucks it out of him.

He breaks away and gasps, "God, I want to lift the tarp, but I can't risk anyone seeing you."

Eddie doesn't answer, he just pulls the tarp slightly off them before pulling Steve into another kiss. Steve can barely register the relief of the cool air hitting the back of his damp neck as he gets lost in Eddie.

"Can't see me remember?" Eddie says against Steve's lips.

"They can- mmm. See the rings," Steve manages to get out.

Eddie's hands slowly drift down Steve's back, resting on the dip of his spine that's still under the tarp. "Better?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie, his mouth pink and damp, cheeks flushed red, pupils blown wide. "God, you're beautiful," Steve says without thinking.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, face carefully blank before he glances at the window. "Do you think they're still here?"

Steve glances out the window and debates what to say next. He settles with the truth. "I'm pretty sure it was just a branch that hit the window."

Eddie nods and worries his bottom lip, not looking at Steve. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but Steve can't say much when he is equally as winded.

Steve pauses and says, "But maybe someone's out there. Or..." He shakes his head, trying not to finish the thought out loud.

"Or what?" Eddie asks.

"Or maybe I just want to kiss you again," Steve confesses.

Eddie looks up at him and pauses, eyes searching Steve's face for something. He glances toward the window and says, "I can't exactly be on high alert if you kiss me again, but..." he glances at Steve and finishes his thought, "I think it's worth the risk."

"If you really think about it, it's more risky if I stop kissing you."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion. "And why's that?"

"Because I'll only be able to think about kissing you again and won't be on high alert," Steve flirts easily. "And really, it's a great cover."

Eddie smiles and even momentarily laughs. "You're so full of shit," he says, but pulls Steve down to him, kissing him again with the same frenzied energy.

Only, Steve pulls away and winks at him. "We've got all night. We can take it slow."

"I think you're going to kill me."

Steve brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him again. "Yes," he answers, kissing Steve again but slowly, taking his time with him.

It's fair to say that Steve's original plan of keeping watch and letting Eddie sleep goes out the window, but he's pretty sure it's worth it.

It's definitely worth it.

[quarterlifekitty]

Out of the frying pan, into the flames

cw: dark themes, kidnapping, conditioning, implied sex slavery

Lately I’ve been thinking about Price finding you during a covert op. Deep in the interior rooms of a compound once belonging to a man deemed an enemy by whoever is currently signing the 141’s paychecks.

Killing the hawk, only to find the chick in its nest. Something left behind that will die if abandoned.

You’ve been conditioned well, curtesy of the man who laid on the pavement outside with one of Price’s bullets between his eyes. Perfectly well behaved, hadn’t made a single sound even when he’d burst into the room.

There’s a collar on your neck. A loose fitting dress. A small, but cozy enough room, though it has no windows and locks from the outside.

In the records of the man’s office, evidence suggests that you’ve been in the game a long time. Enough to have disappeared as far as anyone who might’ve known you is concerned.

And Price was just thinking— there’s an elegant solution to all of this. He’s a quietly selfish man. He tries to suffocate that painful, roiling tempest inside that tells him he’s owed something. That he’s sacrificed too much for one lifetime and gotten too little in return.

Pawning you off onto some government officials, trying to find a place for you to be awkwardly shoved into society— that wouldn’t be good for you, John tells himself.

It would be better for everyone if he did what he always did. If he took care of things.

He lets you hold his hand while his other delicately rends the microchip from under the skin at the base of your skull with a knife. Removes the chafing nylon collar. He has something much nicer in mind for you.

John’s always thought that if he were home more, he’d have a damned good garden. That’s just how he is— nurturing. Bringing things to their best.

You know how to be good. You know how to be seen and not heard. You know how to suck cock so well it could bring a man to tears. And for lesser men, that might’ve been enough. But to Price, you’re still a block of unchiseled marble. There is a beautiful thing in you, and he will free it.

You haven’t heard a lick of praise in years. Why be praised for what you should be doing? For serving your purpose? You tense in a way that’s— quite frankly— adorable the first time he calls you a good girl. He’ll soften you to it in time.

He tells you how much it hurt to see you the way he found you…. Being wasted. Pearls before swine. No such thing as bad dogs, only bad owners. When you smile, the pit inside him grows. Deeper, hungrier.

He needs to be your sun, moon, and stars. To have a beautiful creature that would wither and die without his touch. A doll needs someone to dress it.

Your new collar is fine, beautiful leather. Embossed with a winding filigree, art noveau motifs. The little metal tag has his name. He likes the bell on it— so he can hear it grow louder so quickly whenever he comes through the door.

Your wide eyes when he comes home with a gift… they kill him every time. How you keen when he starts to fuss over you. How you’re hanging on his every word. How he hears the bell following him as he takes care of every little mundane task around the country home.

In a perverse irony, it calms him when he has to go away. Knowing that if he was killed, if he never came home— your life would end too. You’d be shattered beyond repair. He had fixed you once, and no one would ever be able to go over his work. The threads of your fate had become tangled to his in a way that couldn’t be undone. You shed no tears for the man before him. But there would be no man after him.

You’re damned lucky he happens to be good at his job.

[zegrasdrysdale]

Could you write a smut with Ethan Edwards like after a bad game or something? Thankssss!!

[ make me forget ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : Ethan confides in his girlfriend after a rough loss in the Frozen Four

warning(s) : smut ! very much more love making than fucking, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), p in v sex, blowjob, use of nicknames during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), little bit of dirty talk

author’s note : waited until the umich season ended before i tackled this request because if they had lost in the frozen four (which they did), i thought it would be the perfect plot for this request. the way they lost was really rough so be prepared for sad ethan for a lil bit

༺═──────────────═༻

Her heart breaks when the final buzzer goes off. Boston College is quick to celebrate their four-to-nothing win over Michigan. Her eyes are on Ethan as he stands with Dylan and Tyler while the Duke boys shed some tears.

The tears that begin to fall down Ethan's cheeks while he stands with his teammates are her last straw. The tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks begin to roll. She quickly wipes them away so Ethan doesn't look over and see them.

All of the Michigan boys huddle near the bench as they watch another team move onto the finals for the third year in a row.

It breaks her heart that they have fought so hard for the past three years and no national title to show for it. They deserve it more than they know or realize at the moment.

Michigan shakes hands with Boston College at center ice before BC goes back to the locker room to celebrate the win. The Michigan boys raise their sticks for the last time this season, and for the last time for some of the boys. She shows her support by clapping and banging on the glass in front of her as they head down the tunnel.

Ethan looks at her as he waits to go down the tunnel. She shoots him a small smile that's mixed with fondness and sadness. If he smiles back at her, she can't see it because of the way his helmet sits on his head. His face is shiny and she can’t tell if it’s because he’s sweating or if it’s because he’s been crying.

Hopefully it’s because he’s been sweating because she doesn’t know if she can handle more tears from Ethan.

She makes her way to the hotel that she and the other girlfriends are staying at, which is also the hotel that the boys are staying at. None of them are really in the mood to hang around the arena to wait for their boyfriends.

Ethan knows her room number. It just might be a little bit because he comes knocking. He’s going to shower then spend some time with his teammates because this is the last time that Team 102 will be Team 102.

Some of his teammates are going to sign with their NHL team. She knows Frank is going to the NHL immediately like Luke did last year. He’ll sign within a day or two after they get back to Michigan. Dylan and Gavin have both said they’re probably going to sign with their teams too. A handful of other guys haven’t made an official decision yet but she’s sure that more will be leaving.

Then it’ll just be Ethan and Mark left from their class that came in almost four years ago.

Once she’s back in her hotel room that’s a few blocks from the arena, she finally relaxes. She pulls off the hat she was wearing as well as Ethan’s Michigan jacket. With a sigh, she flops onto her back on the bed.

If she’s feeling like this, she can’t even begin to imagine how the boys are feeling. It sucks that they’re not moving onto the finals after getting shutout. It especially sucks that it’s now three years in a row that they’ve made it to the Frozen Four and haven’t been to the finals.

Like she said, she can’t even begin to imagine how the boys are feeling after that game.

It’s nearly two hours after the game ends when there’s a very soft knock on her door. If she was sleeping or had in her AirPods then she wouldn’t have heard it. The TV is playing at a low volume so she was able to hear the knock.

When she swings the door open, she sees a very upset Ethan Edwards on the other side.

She pouts and pulls him into a hug, which pulls him into the room. The door swings shut behind Ethan. “I’m so sorry, Eddie,” she softly says into his ear. “I wish I could do something.”

“I know,” he replies. His voice is hoarse like all he’s been doing is crying. It breaks her heart a little more. “Needed to see you. I tried slipping away but coach made us stay for a little bit after we were all showered.”

She pulls back from the hug, leaving her arms draped around his neck. Ethan’s avoiding eye contact with her. It’s what he does when he’s upset.

When she pushes his hair out of his face, he leans down and puts his forehead on her shoulder. Her fingers find a home in his damp locks and holds him. His arms wrap around her waist.

“I’m so tired of feeling like this,” Ethan confesses after a few moments of silence. “It’s been three fucking years. First it was Denver, then it was Quinnipiac, and now it’s Boston College. Three years, three different teams. I’m tired.”

“I know, E,” she coos as she presses a kiss to his temple. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. I know how rough it’s been for you and the guys.”

Ethan lifts his head up and finally looks at her. All she sees behind his eyes is sadness. She has to bite her lip from crying because his eyes are usually so bright. They are so dark right now.

“I have one more year,” he says. “One. I don’t think I can handle it if I’m in this position again next year. I probably won’t sign with the Devils this season so I can do this for one more year but I don’t think I can do this again. Feel like this again.”

She watches tears spill over his eyelids onto his cheeks. She dries his cheeks with her thumbs and gives him the smallest of smiles. “You’re going to lead your team to a national title next year as a senior, E,” she assures him. “It’s your year.”

Ethan nods without saying a word, but the way her eyes flicker to her lips tells her everything she needs to know. He grabs her hands off his face and loosely laces their fingers together.

“Can you do me a favor?” Ethan asks. She raises her eyebrows in confusion. “Can you just … help me forget for a little bit? I need to get my mind off of the last few hours.”

She blinks, not even surprised at his request. “Ethan, you are upset right now and you’re allowed to be,” she begins to say to him. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you since you’re not in the right mindset.”

He drops his forehead to hers. His eyes close. “Please, baby,” he whispers. “Make me forget. I need you to make me forget.”

It’s not like she was going to say no. She just needed to make sure it’s what he really wanted before she started something.

Ethan picks his head up and meets her eyes. She glances between them to make sure he’s okay before she pulls him down into a kiss.

The kiss starts out soft and slow but quickly turns rough and needy. Ethan’s hands rest on her sides and he lightly grips her waist so she can’t move away. Not that she was planning on going anywhere.

If Ethan wants her to help him forget the last few hours then she will.

She presses herself flush against Ethan’s chest and can feel the growing bulge against her thigh. Her fingers curl in his locks to keep him from breaking the kiss. She does walk forward a bit so Ethan’s back is pressed against the wall next to the door.

Her hands snake down from his hair and down his chest until they rest on the waistband of his dress pants. Ethan sucks her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls back, letting her lip snap back into place. She looks up at him and bites the same lip.

“You’re hot when you’re needy,” she tells Ethan as she begins to undo the button on his pants. “Just so you’re aware.”

“You’re hot all the time,” Ethan retorts as she finally gets the button undone. “Especially when you wear my clothes.” His comment confirms he saw her in his jacket during the game.

She just smiles at him and untucks his shirt from his pants before pulling him into another kiss.

Ethan pulls off the suit jacket he’s wearing and lets it fall to the floor. His hands come up to cup her jaw as he returns her kisses, each one getting needier and deeper.

After a few more kisses, she reluctantly pulls back. She notices how swollen and red his lips already are and she can’t help but smile at the sight of how disheveled he already looks.

Once she takes him all in, she sinks down to her knees in front of him. Ethan leans his head back and mumbles a “fuck” as she pulls his dress pants down so they pool around his ankles. His boxers are next and his semi pops out. Ethan ends up kicking the clothes away as well as his shoes.

She takes him in her hand and pumps him a few times. “Shit, baby,” Ethan breathes out. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

She sends him a smile before she wraps her lips around the reddening tip. Slowly, she takes his dick in her mouth and looks up at him. Ethan runs his fingers through her hair and pushes a loose piece behind her ear so her face is clear.

For once, she loves being able to do this for Ethan. He’s always focused on her pleasure and making sure that she is taken care of. She gets to return the favor. It’s not very often she gets to do this for him.

One of her hands rests on his thigh and the other slides up under his button-up. Her hand rests on his stomach for a moment before sliding as close to his chest as she can get. His hand rests on hers over his shirt.

She moves her head and sucks gently, being cautious of her teeth. She still gets flashbacks to the first time she blew him sometimes when her teeth accidentally got involved and there was almost a hospital trip that night.

Honestly, it’s probably why he rarely lets her blow him at this point in their relationship. It was a year before he let her try again.

Ethan’s hips roll slowly and he hits the back of her throat. She relaxes her jaw and throat as he begins to fuck her face. Soft pants pass Ethan’s lips as she hollows out her cheeks and lightly sucks. Her tongue swirls around his tip every so often.

“Baby, you keep doing that and I’m going to come before either of us are ready,” Ethan tells her.

She pulls off his dick with a pop and licks her lips. “Then we better move to the bed,” she replies as she stands up. “So you can fuck me instead of coming from a blowjob against a wall.”

Ethan’s eyes widen and he crashes their lips together. He hums softly and begins to walk toward the bed. She loses her t-shirt and her leggings are around her knees when she falls onto her back. The kiss breaks and she stares up at him.

He unbuttons his shirt and she pulls off her leggings. She is left in her bra and panties, but she’ll let Ethan take them off because it’s one of his favorite things to do when they have sex.

She moves back on the bed until her head hits the pillows. A completely naked Ethan crawls onto the mattress until he’s settled between her bent knees. One of his hands cups her jaw and he instigates a soft kiss. She wraps her hand around his wrist.

“I love you,” she mumbles. “I’ve loved you from year one and I’ll love you after next year. No matter what.”

Ethan smiles against her lips and she can’t help but smile against his. He pulls back and meets her eyes. “I love you,” he tells her. “I love that you’re here. It can’t be easy for you either.”

She shakes her head and traces Ethan’s cheekbones and jaw with thee fingers. “It sucks seeing you guys come so close and not getting the championship,” she admits. “I hate seeing you so upset, Eddie. It breaks my heart.”

“Gonna win one next year,” Ethan tells her as he leans in and presses kisses to her jaw. “For you. I’m gonna raise that trophy for you, baby.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck. “Good,” she giggles. “You’d look hot with that trophy above your head.”

Ethan laughs and pulls back to look at her. His hair falls into his face as he looks down at her. “Then I’m definitely winning it,” he replies as she pushes his hair out of his face. “Right now though, I need to get you naked and get inside of you.”

He pulls her up so she is sitting up with her legs wrapped around his waist. She laughs when he reaches around her and unhooks her bra. He throws it to the floor before he kisses her. She falls back so her head hits the pillows again.

Ethan hovers over her and slithers a hand between them until it slides into her panties. He cups her core and she gasps against his mouth. “Eddie,” she breathes out.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he tells her. “Such a good girl for me being so wet. You want me that bad?”

She nods and whines when Ethan plays with her clit. “I wanna ride you,” she tells him. “Help you forget the game tonight like you want me to.”

He pulls back from the kiss and meets her eyes. “Yeah?” he asks. “Wanna ride me, pretty girl?”

With an eager nod, she manages to flip them over so she is straddling Ethan’s thighs. Ethan stares up at her with a shocked look on his face as she runs her hands from his stomach to his chest. “Let me take care of you, E,” she tells him. “Make you feel good.”

Ethan nods with his wide eyes.

She pulls her panties off, the lace ruined from how wet she was before she pulled them off. She straddles Ethan’s waist once she’s completely naked. His hands run up and down her sides for a second while she leans down and kisses his jaw.

After a second of this, she gets on her knees and grabs his dick. She lines him up with her entrance and Ethan’s hand rests on her waist. She slowly sinks down on his dick with a sigh.

No mather how many times they do this, she is still shocked with how big he is as he fills her up. She’ll never get over how he manages to fit inside of her every time.

She drops her head back as she slowly fills herself with Ethan’s dick. “That’s it, baby,” Ethan says. “You take my cock so well. Look so pretty sitting on my cock.”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as Ethan bottoms out inside of her. His words shoot straight to her core. Ethan traces her sides for a second before he helps her begin to roll her hips. She sighs as he moves in and out of her.

“Fuck,” she gasps as she moves her hip. “Eddie.”

One of Ethan’s hands snakes between them and rubs her clit. She lets out a soft moan as Ethan works her close to an orgasm.

The bed creaks below them as she picks up speed. Her hands rest on his chest to keep her balance. Ethan’s lips are parted and his eyes are closed as she rides his dick.

It’s not a minute later when Ethan wraps his arms around her waist and rolls until he’s hovering over her. She looks up at him and smiles. Ethan mirrors the smile and slowly begins to roll his hips into her.

His dick moves in and out of her slowly, and deeply with the new angle. He hooks one of her legs over his shoulders so he can move as deep into her as he can.

Her fingers find a home in Ethan’s locks and pulls him down into a kiss. His movements remain slow and deep as he fucks her.

This doesn’t feel like fucking though. To her, it feels like more than that.

Ethan presses soft kisses to her wrists as he moves. She stares up at him and notices the soft look on his face. He looks almost relaxed.

“I love you,” Ethan softly pants. “So much, baby. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m so- ah- lucky,” she replies. “I’m so in love with you, E. Fuck.”

His speed picks up slightly and his thrusts get sloppy. He is close and she knows it.

She pushes the hair out of his face and pulls him down for a kiss. They both pant and groan as they get closer to their orgasms.

Her legs begin to shake and she feels the familiar knot in the pit of her stomach. Ethan’s fingers finding their way back to her clit almost undoes the knot. She cries out against Ethan’s lips.

“Come on my cock, baby,” Ethan mumbles against her lips. “Right behind you.”

“Come inside of me, Eddie,” she pants. “It’s okay. You know I’m on the pill.”

Ethan’s thrusts have slowed but he slams into her. She cries out a second later and clenches around Ethan’s dick. Her head is thrown back against the pillows and she cries his name. Her fingers dig into the skin on his back.

He shoots into her after a couple more thrusts. “Fuck,” he groans.

Her entire body melts into the mattress beneath her. Her breathing is labored as Ethan collapses on top of her. He lifts her head up and they share lazy kisses until he pulls out of her to clean her up.

She can’t move. Her body feels like jelly but the warm cloth feels good on her core and thighs. She whimpers as the cloth brushes over her sensitive core.

Ethan crawls back onto the bed and pulls the blankets on top of them. She manages to move so she can curl up against his side. She traces lazy shapes into his chest.

Silence fills the room, and it’s okay because she loves just being with Ethan.

Then a question rises in her head and she can’t resist asking. Especially when she knows that some of his teammates are leaving.

“Are you going to sign with the Devils?” she asks as she lifts her head. “It’s okay if you are. You know I’ll come to all the games that are closer to Mich-”

“I’m coming back for my senior year, baby,” he interrupts. “The Devils can wait. Shea is waiting too so it’s okay. We’re going to go together. You can’t get rid of me yet.”

She smiles and presses a soft kiss to his lips before she settles in for the night and falls asleep minutes later.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[devotedfem]

«Frankenweenie»

Synopsis: Namjoon loved his dog with his whole heart, but she passed away. But that didn't stop him from trying to bring her back to life, what he didn't expect though was his princess pet coming alive as a human girl.

K. Namjoon x f. Reader

3.3K words.

Genre: Frankenweenie (Tim burton) au | yander-ish.

Tags: Bringing back the dead, inspired by Frankenweenie by Tim Burton but with a dark twist, grief, angst, obsession, unhealthy coping mechanism, scientist Namjoon, morally grey Namjoon, codependency, cute and adorable reader, confused reader, possessive behavior, jealousy, plot twist, hurt, secrets, smut, dubious consent and painful s3x (but in the second part), revenge, Namjoon is a little fucked up in the head and not only in a hot way, he has issues but don't we all?, captivity.

Part I, II.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tear that dropped from his left eye, his face was red and restrained, the heavy lump in his throat felt like a rock trying to choke him. He closed his eyes to compose himself, he was an adult but one who was very much in pain. He sighed before adding more soil to the grave.

He’s doing this alone so no one would make fun of him, he wanted to grieve in silence and with no one around him trying to soothe him or telling him that he could find a new pet, that it wasn’t that deep. But it was, his love for his princess dog was very much deep.

He cleared his throat turning away from the little grave he made on his backyard, his princess’s favorite place.

The sting he felt when he entered an empty house, void of life, was unbearable.

She was with him since she was a little pup and he a little kid, he never loved anything in the world as much as he loved his pet. She was a sweet puppy, always loyal to him, accompanying him in the worst and the best. His parents were a little bit worry that this day will come and Namjoon would be heartbroken, but what was even more sad is that Namjoon’s parents left this world before his princess, deepening the bond between them both. But now she left Namjoon too, and for him that wasn’t fair at all.

Why is everyone leaving him?

The lump in his throat grew more, suffocating him with a vice grip. And then the sobs came out with force, making Namjoon to drop on the floor, wrapping both of his legs with his arms, hiding his wailing face between his knees. His sobs were heartbreaking, his chest stung with acid pain burning his heart. This is why he grieves alone, because no one would understand the weight of his hurt.

When the night fell, Namjoon’s face was swollen by the amount of tears he shed, his gaze was detach and dissociated, he didn’t have anymore tears in him to drop. So this is it, his grieving was over. This was the second time in his life he’s mourning a loved one, the first time was for his parents, and she was beside him to bear the pain. And now he’s mourning her, alone.

With a dull face, he put on his lab coat, he has work to do. At least he can distract his mind by working. But he knows that when he returns home, the pain will come back twice as hard.

Everything was normal in the lab, some coworkers asked Namjoon if everything was alright, but they didn’t keep pushing it when Namjoon only gave them a fake smile. He didn’t have any friends here, his only friends were Seokjin and Yoongi, but they moved out from the city last month.

Alone, alone, alone, alone, alone-

“Hey, I have something to show you,” someone whispered besides him, startling Namjoon out of his thoughts. His brows knitted with annoyance, he didn’t want to be bothered right know.

“Jungkook I’m not in the mood-“

“It’s important! I really need you to see it!” The brat interrupted Namjoon, fueling his anger. He was about to tell him to go fuck himself until he watched Jungkook’s wide eyes and pale face, he looked terrified but at the same time… excited?

“Okay fine, show me. But if you waste my time, I’ll snitch on you to the boss.” His bitter remark went ignored by Jungkook.

Namjoon frowned and narrowed his eyes with suspicion, the younger was too eager even for himself.

They went to an empty hallway, and Jungkook watch to his left and right before opening a door, with Namjoon following behind.

For a second, Namjoon’s heart beat fast with a little bit of excitement, until he watched before him a rat on a table, and nothing more. Namjoon closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose, suddenly having a headache.

“Jungk-“

“I’m a god hyung,” Jungkook fucking interrupted Namjoon, again.

“What the fuck Jungkook? What kind of drugs are you on!?” He barked at the younger losing his patience, but Jungkook didn’t even blink at his shout, making Namjoon stop and feel unease.

“I’m not high.”

“Then you’re insane! I’m done, I’m leaving your freak ass,” he said turning around, but Jungkook’s next words stopped his movements.

“I bring that rat back to life, it was dead. And I revived it.”

The deep hush and quietness that took over the room after Jungkook’s words made Namjoon feel chills on his body, freezing his limbs and stopping his heart beat for a second.

Everything around Namjoon spined, and he was about to literally pass out and fall to the floor if it weren’t for Jungkook rushing to help him.

“Hyung! Are you okay? Fuck… I didn’t mean to scare you like that, i swear I’m not on drugs,” Jungkook’s brows were knitted and his eyes wide with worry. Namjoon chuckled a little by the kid’s words.

This felt like a sign from heaven, encouraging Namjoon to do this.

The older composed himself quickly straightening his back and turning around to see the rat closely.

“What’s the failure percentage? How many times have you done this? Is this your first subject? Have you tried this with… humans?” Namjoon’s voice lowered at the last word. He was all professional right now, but some things like bringing dead people back to life, can be considered unethical. But Namjoon wouldn’t judge Jungkook if that was the case. He was a scientist before anything.

Jungkook’s eyes widened with horror at the mention of reviving people.

“No! I haven’t done this with any human, just a couple of rats. This is my third subject, but-but I came to the conclusion that this won’t work on human’s corpses anyway. For now, it works only for animals.”

When Namjoon turned his head to look back at Jungkook, the younger widened his eyes for a second before averting and dropping his gaze to his toes with anxiety, he was shifting his weight to one foot to another, not meeting Namjoon’s prying eyes. The boy was nervous, and it was normal. This kind of stuff like reviving dead animals behind their lab managers backs wasn’t legal at all. Jungkook could be in trouble for all Namjoon knows, but lucky for Jungkook, this serves Namjoon’s best interests.

“Hey,” called softly Namjoon. Approaching Jungkook to rub his shoulder and ease the tension, Jungkook startled with surprise by the touch, and Namjoon only smiled at him.

“I won’t tell anyone about this Jungkookie, I promise.” He crooned with sparkly eyes crinkling at the corner, spreading Jungkook’s smile who relaxed quickly at Namjoon’s words.

And then, all of sudden Namjoon’s face dropped with seriousness, making the younger frown.

“But only if you do me a favor,” he mumbled with a deep and dark voice, his eyes were crazed and fixated on Jungkook, even his “tender” touch on the younger shoulder tighten with force, making Jungkook flinch with pain.

“Wh-what kind of favor hyung?” Jungkook couldn’t help the stutter, the older man made him feel intimidated all of sudden.

It’s like he’s witnessing a dark side of Namjoon he didn’t knew about.

And then, Namjoon grinned widely, like wolf.

“Help me bring back my princess.”

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The two of them were on Namjoon’s basement, he has some lab tools and machinery down there. He chose that place to hide from prying eyes like their coworkers or bosses. Unfortunately, Jungkook felt extremely scared being alone in a basement with Namjoon. Now and then he throwed the older side eyes, waiting for any weird movement from him to run the fuck away from this house.

They spent 4 hours trying to revive the dog lying on the lab bench, but nothing happened. The younger watched how Namjoon was losing himself in the process, and he almost felt bad for him, he didn’t know he had lost his pet, and that he loved it this much. But it was the natural process of life, if Jungkook knew he was speaking to a grieving person, he wouldn’t tell him about his little experiment.

Namjoon hit the bench with a curse, fighting back tears. Jungkook took this as a sign to stop.

“Hyung, I already told you this may take up to 24 hours. I think you should rest…” he said carefully, as if he was dealing with a wild animal. In fact, Jungkook only wanted to go home.

“Yeah, you’re right. You can leave.” The older said crossing his arms and staring at the corpse of the dog.

Jungkook find it quite disturbing, but he said nothing when he turned around to get the fuck away.

“And Jungkook, this better work. Because if not, you’ll be the next corpse I’ll try to bring back to life.” That threat freeze Jungkook’s movements with primal fear, he watched with horror Namjoon’s back before literally running away.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tears, bringing a chair to sit in front of the bench with a tight heart. His pet wasn’t moving at all, her body was covered in dirt and inflated, giving off nasty odors.

It was like a reality check for him, he had hope for a second, but that was ripped away from him. His eyes dropped with exhaustion and hurt heavy in his chest. Dreaming about his parents and his pet, and colorful moments.

Then it was midnight.

A lighting struck outside the window, the sound made you lift your upper body. You gasped in amazement when you watched all of your limbs, they looked human. Your skin was soft and hairless, but where is your fur!? Now how you’ll survive the cold? Your eyes and mouth opened when you felt some type of fur coming from your scalp, it was very long and it covered your chest. You frowned when you touched your chest, you had two lumps of flesh popping out of it. You played with them a little, feeling a weird sensation between your legs when you stimulated them.

But you got distracted by the long limbs from the lower part of your body. You were giggling when you moved them.

“Who the fuck are you?” The strident and angered voice startled you, you didn’t notice Namjoon watching you like a hawk.

You blinked when you recognized him. It was him! Your beloved owner! You missed him so, so much.

“Joon!” You chirped with happiness, getting out of the bench with shaking legs, walking like a newborn and throwing yourself into Namjoon’s lap.

He was startled and a little bit horrified, he had a naked and unknown woman sitting on his lap.

“Missu!” you said wrapping your arms around his neck.

He frowned lost and disturbed.

“What? Who are you and what are you doing here you freak.” He said with his brows knitted, he was about to throw you away and call the police.

You didn’t understand some of his words, but you did notice that he wasn’t recognizing you, and that made you pout.

“Me me! y/n me! Joon you! Me y/n!” You were distressed because you couldn’t bark anymore and you didn’t know how to speak Namjoon’s language very well. You grabbed both of his shoulders to make him understand you.

A thousand of emotions flash on Namjoon’s face, surprise, fear, pain and… relieve.

His gaze softened immediately, and you grinned with teeth recognizing that sweet gaze Namjoon used only for you. His hand lifted to stroke lovingly your cheek, and you dropped your face into his palm, closing your eyes and enjoying his touch.

But you startled when you felt him wrapping both of his arms around you with a tight grip, burying his face in your neck and smelling your scent. You melted at his touch, giggling at the sensation of his breath brushing your skin.

“You’re here,” he whispered, this time grabbing both of your cheeks to look at you better. His eyes scanned all of your face and body. You watched something dark and strange flashing his eyes when he looked down at your body, but he returned to your eyes quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to come back as a human… but I’m not complaining either,” he said smiling with dimples and sparkling eyes, you felt a happiness bubble burst inside of your chest at the sight.

You were so happy that you lapped his mouth with your tongue like you always did when you were, well a dog. But this time Namjoon freeze with shock, you watched him gulp hard and avert his eyes, making you pout.

“Okay, we should put clothes on you I guess,” he said clearing his throat, he was about to get up from the chair but you glued yourself to him, wrapping tightly your arms and legs around him, making him laugh.

You giggle when he tried to dress you on his clothes, you only let him put one of his oversize shirts on you, but you didn’t let him dress you in pants or underwear, you didn’t like the feeling of being covered in clothes.

Namjoon let you be for today, after all his shirt was big enough to cover you mid thigh.

He noticed that you can’t walk on two legs, you were tripping like a newborn, always pouting at him to carry you. He always melted and do as you wish, he wouldn’t denied you anything.

“Missu,” you whispered at him when he was hand feeding you after you made a mess with the cutlery and food.

He hummed staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“You mean, you miss me?” He asked softly, and you nodded with a wide smile.

You were about to lick his face again but you stopped, not sure if he would like it. He noticed your hesitation, gripping your chin gently.

“Humans usually don’t lick each other like dogs do, I don’t mind if you do, but we have other ways of expressing our love.” He said lowly, making you blink with curiosity.

“Kis’?” You asked with knitted brows, you heard that on tv before going inside the kitchen with him.

Namjoon chuckled at you, nodding with heart eyes.

“Want me to teach you?”

You nodded more fiercely this time, eager to show and receive love.

He brushed his lips on your cheek, pecking the skin softly. You enjoyed it, but on tv the people were doing that with their mouths together, and they were using tongue too.

You frowned a bit disappointed, then you grabbed boldly his chin and crashed your lips against his. You licked his lips a little bit carelessly. But you enjoyed it better like this, it felt right. You were closing your eyes and melting in the feeling, until Namjoon gripped tightly your waist to put you away from him, breaking the kiss.

His gaze was dark and his breath a little labored, he looked scary and affected like this, you thought that maybe he didn’t like it.

“Darling, if you do that again, I will lose control over myself. Be careful next time or I won’t stop.” His jaw was clenched and his nostril flared.

You recoiled a bit into yourself at his intense expression, it reminds you when Namjoon gets angry when you misbehaved. If you had your dog ears right now, they would be back and your tail between legs.

Namjoon’s eyes softened immediately, stroking your locks.

“Let’s go to sleep, princess,” he said carrying you to his bedroom.

You watched with widened eyes and parted lips how he laid you down on his mattress and not the floor, you giggle with happiness basking at the feeling of the soft bed sheets wrapping you, you rolled until you turned yourself into a human burrito, making Namjoon break a loud laugh at you.

“All right, stop being silly and let’s sleep.” He said lying next to you on the mattress.

You stared at him with a big smile before launching yourself at him, making him groan, he faked a hurt whine making your smile drop and your brows frown.

You sit on his waist with your legs on each side of him, grabbing his cheeks into your palms to look for any injury.

But Namjoon took you by surprise when he changed the positions, turning your bodies around to make you lay under him. He was staring down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“Sleep well, my love.” He said before turning off the bed lamp, and positioning himself this time behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you warm with his chest against your back.

Your eyes dropped immediately, ignoring the possessive snake-grip that was holding your body.

You were so happy, you wanted that happiness to last forever.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

When the first sun lights stroked your face, you blinked your eyes open, yawning and stretching your limbs. You freed yourself from Namjoon’s tight grip, hearing the sound of people and cars outside the house. You were curious to explore the world as a human, so you try to walk some steps on your feet but you ended up tripping and falling to your knees. You look behind your back if you woke Namjoon up, but he was still like a rock.

You crawled to the living room, approaching the front door. This time you stood on your feet without tripping, turning the door knob and feeling the street breeze brushing your face. You watched in amazement the cars and the people outdoors, you put a foot outside until you were dragged roughly into the house again. You whimpered with pain by Namjoon’s violent hold.

He slammed the door shut, turning around and staring daggers at you, his jaw was set and his fists clenched. His breathing was labored and his steps were heavy when approaching you. By instincts you crawled away from him to hide in a safer spot, but he stopped you, pulling your body towards him.

“Don’t fucking do that again! You want to be killed by a car again!? You want to die and leave me alone a second time!? It’s that what you want!?” He shouted to your face with a vein popping on his neck, you didn’t understand half of his words, but either way they made you cry with hurt.

It was the first time you felt afraid of him.

Namjoon calmed down a little at the sight of your tears, but his strong hold on your upper arms didn’t ease.

“You’re mine, you won’t set a foot outside of this house or get away from under my watch ever again, did I make myself fucking clear?” His crazed eyes were fixated on you, you didn’t know what to answer, so you just nodded with fear.

He pulled you against his chest to hug you, but instead of feeling warm you felt trapped.

“I own you, remember that my love.” He whispered hotly against your ear. And that word, owning, that you understand.

The moment was interrupted by a knock from the front door, you felt Namjoon tensing.

“Hyung! It’s me Jungkook, did the experiment worked with your dog?”

You heard Namjoon cursing and tightening his grip on you, but you frowned confused. Experiment? Dog? Was that man talking about you?

It was the first time in your short life that you had doubts about your owner, even thoughts, before… before all of this you never really think, you just feel and bark. But now, everything changed.

And you were about to find out what was happening, and what was Namjoon hiding.

He can own your body but not your mind.

Or that’s what you thought.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty

[puckinghischier]

Chef’s Kiss

Nico x fem!reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico

summary: Nico fluff, basically

notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)

[2k]

~

Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.

“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.

“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.

As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.

“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”

Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.

He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.

“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.

The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and were laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.

“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.

“Wait, where is your pillow?”

“In the trash.”

“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.

“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”

“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.

“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.

He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.

Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.

“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.

“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.

“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”

“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.

“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.

“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.

“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.

“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”

You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.

[little-diable]

Our suffering ends now - Tommy Shelby (smut)

It truly has been a while since I’ve last posted a Tommy fic, but I love how this came together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She has mourned his death for the past years, all until her boss speaks of him, leaving (y/n) to wonder how she could have been betrayed like that, blindsided by lies. It’s time for her to return to the man she has believed to be dead.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, reunited lovers, some angst and crying

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3.5k words)

Trees blurred past the window she sat close to, hands holding onto the book she carried with herself. Her eyes burned from being awake for so long, having to change trains every few hours, set on making it to him before night would break. Hours ago her heart had raced in her chest, pounding against her ribcage as if it was trying to flee from her. And she couldn’t blame it, knowing that what she was about to do would be uncomfortable, scarily so. 

This journey broke more promises than she could count with both of her cold hands, and yet she hadn’t been able to fight against the need to see him again – after all these years. She could still hear Ada’s and Polly’s voices speaking to her, forcing her to leave that one cruel night years ago. With tears rolling down her cheeks she had given in, watching the two women pack her bags before accompanying (y/n) to the train station. A foolish mistake she had been forced to live with. 

She was torn between hurt and anger, not understanding how the two women she had once loved like her own sisters could have betrayed her like that. For years she had lived with the knowledge that her lover was dead, that he hadn’t made it home after the war. Lies, nothing but lies she had been fed. 

If it hadn’t been for her job she would have kept believing the lies, not doubting what she had been told by the two. If it hadn’t been for the way her boss had spoken of him, she wouldn’t have stopped grieving the loss of the man she had once promised to love until her death. If it hadn’t been for the sinking feeling growing deep within her, she wouldn’t have purchased the train tickets that very night before calling the only man she had kept in touch with. 

Her legs ached as she rose to her feet, ready to step out of the train in hopes of spotting him. A deep breath was sucked into her lungs as (y/n) started moving, holding onto her suitcase while the cold evening air wrapped itself around her. 

“(Y/n)!” The smile widening on her lips only grew as her eyes spotted Alfie, rushing towards him to throw herself into his arms. He held onto her, hugging her as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, even though it had only been a handful of weeks. His comforting scent wrapped itself around (y/n), cozying her along as he slowly parted from her. “You haven’t aged a day.”

“You fucker.” The words rolled off her tongue before she could stop them, earning a few shameful gazes from couples brushing past the two. But Alfie’s loud laugh distracted her enough to keep smiling at the man she had crossed paths with years ago, instantly learning to love him like a brother. 

“Come, come, let’s get some food into your system and then you can tell me all about why you have summoned me to Birmingham, yeah?”

…

“Pain has never suited you, and yet it never dims your beauty.” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows at him in an almost mocking manner, drawing a smirk onto Alfie’s lips. She pushed herself further into the couch, legs tucked underneath herself while Alfie sat close to her, waiting for her to finally shed some light onto her mysterious behaviour. 

“You remember what I told you about him, don’t you?” A sigh left Alfie at her words, eyes momentarily fluttering close as if his annoyance was already getting the best of him.

“I told you I would marry you, there is no reason to mourn a life with a husband you never had. Say the words, Alfie marry me, and I will, yeah? Is this why you so desperately needed to see me, pearl? Because of some boy who fell at war like so many others?” Her jaw muscles began to tick in anger, a fire started to burn in her eyes at his words. (Y/n) had to let go of a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm before this could spiral into another fight neither of them would win.

“He’s not dead.” It was a simple sentence, and yet it carried more pain than all others she had spoken in a long time. It almost felt as if every single vowel had sharp teeth, scratching at her tongue as they rolled right off the strong muscle to leave behind wounds that wouldn’t fade. 

“What? Did his ghost suddenly appear at night? Did God speak to you-,” the sharp call of his name interrupted Alfie, forcing him to quieten down with anger tugging on his features. For a moment, neither of them spoke a word, letting a heavy silence fill the room. Ever since their paths had crossed, she had told Alfie all about him, without ever telling him his name, he knew nothing but the endless moments she could still remember, the love she had been fortunate enough to experience. 

“I heard it at work, my boss spoke of him and his brothers. He’s alive, I’ve grieved a man who was never dead all because I believed lies I had no reason not to believe. That’s why I called you, if somebody could help me find him, it’d be you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as if the sky itself was crying for her and all those horrible years she had lost to mourning him.

“What is his name, (y/n)?” Seriousness clung to Alfie as he asked the one question he had never dared to ask, shoulders tensed, lips pressed together as if he already knew the name she was about to whisper.

“Tommy Shelby.” All Alfie did was stare at her, making goosebumps appear on her arms as he shot to his feet, turning his back on (y/n) while a sound torn between a groan and a shout tore out of him. She was close to flinching, not understanding why he was reacting that way. 

“I can’t take you to him, (y/n). You’ll take the first train home tomorrow morning.” (Y/n) mimicked his movements while an almost hysterical laugh clawed out of her. Slowly, Alfie turned back towards her, both stared at one another, waiting for the other to break first. 

“I won’t leave, not before I see him again. What do you even know of Tommy, Alfie?” With two quick steps he had reached her, hands finding her warm face to cling to her. Pain was swimming in his pupils, a pain that reached far deeper than she could imagine. His calloused thumb stroked her skin as he softly shook his head at her, seemingly fighting to find the right words.

“Tommy Shelby is a devil, yeah, he’s a man who’d kill you without needing a gun nor a knife. He’s not the man you once loved, go home, forget about him and allow me to show you glimpses of a life you deserve to live, pearl.” (Y/n) pushed herself into his arms, cheek pressed against his chest to listen to his racing heartbeat. She clung to the man she wished she could love like a lover, a man who’d treat her well enough to offer her the world. And yet her heart couldn’t let go of Tommy, of the life she ached for like a starving woman dreaming of a soup to warm her aching body.

“Take me to him, Alfie, this is a decision that’s only mine to make.” 

……

Her fingers were interlaced with his, feeling his thumb stroke the back of her hand while she shifted her weight from one side of the pillow to the other. Both were staring at the door, waiting for the sound of somebody knocking on the wood to reach them. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) had problems breathing, tensing even further as the sound could finally be heard. 

And then her eyes found his frame, a man dressed in a sharp suit, in a thick dark coat and a cap whose shadow hid most of his features. Alfie rose to his feet, hiding her behind his frame as if he was still giving her the chance to turn around and leave, “Tommy, I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but we both know that’d be a lie, yeah.”

“What am I doing here, Alfie? I don’t have much time.” Silence began to stretch itself through the room, a silence that was filled by the sound of (y/n) clearing her throat. Alfie was forced to step aside as she rose, forcing all eyes onto her. For a moment nobody spoke, icy eyes wandered over her features, forcing her to straighten her spine and to blink away her tears. She struggled to believe that he was real, he had changed, had grown older and yet he still looked like the boy she had sworn to marry. 

“Tommy,” his name left her like a whisper, a sound that made him take a step back as if his personal hell was awaiting him. He kept staring at her until Alfie pushed himself closer to (y/n), forcing Tommy’s eyes to flicker from her to his enemy. “Do us a favour and give us some time alone, please, Alfie.”

It took Alfie a second to give in, staring at Tommy for a few more seconds before he reluctantly left the room. The door fell shut with a heavy thud, making her jump while it began to dawn on her that she was finally alone with Tommy, just like she had imagined for all these years. 

“It felt like a dream, you know, to hear your name again after all these years where I grieved you, believing you to be dead.” (Y/n)’s voice trembled, shaking with every further word she spoke. Her wide eyes clung to his confused features, watching his expression harden. She took a step closer, halting in her step as he shook his head, forcing her to stand still once again.

“You don’t need to lie to me, (y/n). You left without a word, forcing me to return to an empty home.” A sob left her, rumbling through her louder than intended. Now it was on her to shake her head, to cover her mouth with her shaking hand while bile filled her mouth. It felt like a cruel joke, allowing her to see through the game Ada and Polly had played on both of them. 

“Tommy, they told me you died, they made me pack my bags, made me leave home to start my life all over again in a different city hours away. I didn’t leave on my free will, why should I? I was ready to marry you, to start a family, you have to believe me.” She tried to move again, successfully this time, coming to a halt right in front of him. (Y/n) allowed herself to cup his cheek like she had last done the day he had left to fight in a devastating war. His piercing eyes kept staring at her glassy ones, watching her tears fall.

“Who’s they?” It was a simple question, a question rasped out with pain dripping from the words. Her tongue kissed her teeth, all too aware that this situation was about to spiral into another heartbreak. 

“Ada and Polly.” Nothing but a whisper, words that made anger widen on his handsome features. His gloved hand found hers, gently pushing her hand from his cheek to get some more distance between them, clearly hurting (y/n) with the simple action. 

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n), now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I hope Alfie takes good care of you.” Tommy turned from her, ready to leave the room while she choked on another sob.

“He’s nothing but a brother to me, Tommy. I never loved another. I can’t even bear the thought of being close to somebody who isn’t you.” He halted in his step, letting the words wash over him before wordlessly leaving the room. Leaving (y/n) behind with another cruel sob leaving her.

……

It had been hours since she had seen Tommy, hours she had spent with her cheek pressed to Alfie’s chest, drowning in the tears that didn’t seem to stop rolling. He had clung to her, had whispered comforting words to try and soothe her pain, without any luck. All until the phone call that had reached him, asking him to bring (y/n) to the Garrison at 4pm, not followed by any explanation. 

And so it came that she was leaning against Alfie as they stepped into the empty place, letting her eyes wander through the room. She found herself distracted for a moment, until her name was shouted by Arthur’s familiar voice, forcing her into a tight hug that made her chuckle in delight. 

Her body shook as they were led towards a room in the back, allowing her eyes to meet Tommy’s icy ones. A cigarette was held between his lips, the smoke engulfed him as if his shadows had moved up his body, whispering commands to him. It took Alfie a moment to let go of (y/n), to press a kiss to her hairline, eyes drawn back to Tommy, “If I find her crying again, I won’t hesitate to finally put a bullet between your eyes just like God intended, yeah?” 

It felt like a deja-vu, reminding her of their conversation hours ago after Alfie had left. She didn't dare move as Tommy kept smoking, intensely studying her. He leaned back in his chair before he reached his hand out, wordlessly urging her closer through the now empty room. (Y/n) moved slowly, feeling her heart skipping beats as he pulled her closer, forcing her to stand between his thighs.

“I dreamt of you, back in France. You were the only thing keeping me alive. I even prayed, to you or whoever would fucking bring me back to you. And then you were gone. They said you couldn’t wait any longer, that you couldn’t endure the pain.” He had his eyebrows furrowed, no longer able to look at her. A sigh left (y/n), she leaned back against the table to get a better view of his hard features, feeling how torn he was.

“They told me you died, that there was nothing left for me here. I didn’t get a chance to protest, they packed everything up and then I was suddenly on a train up north.” Her words drew his eyes back to (y/n), looking at the woman he had always loved, even as he had tried to hate her. Tommy tugged on her hand to pull her into his lap as if he still needed to convince himself that she was real, not a trick of his tired mind.

“They will pay for the hurt they’ve caused you.” It was a promise, filled with darkness and hurt, but (y/n) didn’t find it in herself to worry. Not when she was this close to him again, finally. 

“Is it true what Alfie told me? Did you get married?” He swallowed before his hand moved up her thigh, coming to rest on her waist. The silence told her everything she needed to know, leaving her to wonder how that woman had managed to capture his heart while (y/n)’s had been missing half of hers.

“I did, her name was Grace. I loved her, and yet it was no love like ours. Nothing could ever be like that.” A soft smile tugged on her lips, trying to forget about the woman who had once been at his side. Alfie had told her of her, of every detail he had picked up on over the past months, stories (y/n) was desperate to leave behind. 

Whatever it was that urged her on to move, it grew stronger with every passing second, until her lips ghosted over his. Tommy instantly reacted, searching her lips to press a hard kiss against them. He tasted of whisky, of cigarettes, and tea, nothing like the kisses they had last shared as young adults, tasting of a bright future that had been dimmed weeks later. 

The kiss grew more passionate as she began to shift around, wrapping both arms around his neck while her legs rested on either side of his. Their tongues fought for victory as his hands moved up her sides, tracing the body he had longed for in cold and dark nights. She was his warmth, the warmth that had been robbed from him beneath the surface of the earth, hiding away in tunnels that would forever haunt him. 

“Tommy,” she mumbled his name against his lips as both sucked air into their lungs, unable to stop clinging to one another. “Touch me, prove to me that you’re real. Let me feel you, please.”

His grip on her grew tighter, icy eyes watching her for a moment before he kissed her again. His hands found the seam of her dress, pushing the skirt further up her thighs with his hands finding her warm skin. A groan tore out of him as he touched her through the fabric of her undergarments, drawing a soft moan from her parted lips. 

Tommy spoke no warning as he stood up to place her down on the table. They held eye contact, wordlessly communicating while he pulled her undergarments down her legs, hand instantly drawn back to her heat. He touched her with care, gently brushing through her slip to collect drops of arousal. 

(Y/n)’s head rolled back, eyes fluttering close as he began to circle her pulsing bundle. Even though her mind struggled to figure out if she was truly experiencing this, if her lost lover was back to bring her pleasure, she didn’t find it in herself to care, to ask any other question. 

He looked like the devil, towering over her while pushing two fingers into her tightness. Tommy had been the last man she had allowed to touch her, and yet it felt so different to be touched by him, a new sensation she was already addicted to. He moved slowly, curling his fingers against her swollen spot while his thumb kept rubbing her pulsing bundle. 

She choked on his name, calling it out into the evening as if she was trying to summon him. He marvelled at her while he brought her pleasure, reminding her of all those times he had imagined this happening, aching for her while other women warmed his bed. And yet they hadn’t been her, no other woman had ever managed to make him feel this alive, eliciting a love for life deep inside of him. 

“I need you, all of you. Make love to me like you once did, Tommy.” He fumbled with his belt, freeing his hard cock from his trousers before brushing through her slit again. His hand found her throat to pull her in for another kiss the second he sank into her, feeling her walls flutter around him. 

It felt as if the world was ending, as if this was the last thing they could experience before their lives would end. And yet, (y/n) could only pray that death would be this beautiful, this comforting, finding herself in the arms of her lover. 

Tommy moved with care, fucking her softly for a few thrusts before he picked her up again to sink back down on the chair. He allowed her to take what she was aching for, fucking herself on his cock while his strong hands supported her. Every now and then his hips began to jerk, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness. 

“Heavens, I missed you, Tommy. I missed you so much.” Her eyes were too tired to cry again, and yet she felt as if she was whimpering for him, for the time lost, and the dreams that had been buried six feet under. His hand kept a possessive hold of her throat, keeping (y/n) close to whisper to her. 

“You’re mine, (y/n), no lost time will ever change that.” The second his thumb found her bundle again she was done for, ready to let go with his name bleeding from her tongue. He held onto her as she came, knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer himself. 

It hadn’t been long since he had last found comfort with another woman around, and yet it hadn’t nearly felt this good, this intense, this right. Tommy forced his eyes to stay open, to watch her fall apart as he followed moments later, imprinting himself on her walls. 

For a minute or two neither of them spoke, letting go of heavy breaths while their bodies stayed connected. Gently, he helped her off his lap, only to pull her back in the second he’d redressed. Neither of them could let go, scared that the other would leave their side otherwise. 

“What will happen now, Tommy?” She was scared to speak the question, didn’t want to be pushed away by the one man she’d never be able to stop loving. His hand pulled her back against his chest, chin placed on top of her head while alighting a cigarette. 

“Now you’ll find a new home here, with me. Our suffering ends now.”

[mxtheialurks]

I'm here, baby. Part 1 Part 2

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader. Pairing: Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

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“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you. 

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

--------------------------------

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

--------------------------------

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star” 

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm. 

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.