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theemporium · 4 months ago

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[22k] in attempt to bridge the decades old rivalry between the two gangs, a marriage of alliance is proposed between the new jersey devils and the new york rangers. the last thing you expected was to find yourself offered on a silver platter to your enemies. and you certainly didn't expect your future husband to be the likes of the devils leader himself, nico hischier.

new jersey mob masterlist || nhl mob masterlist

warning: this is a mob au. topics and themes such as violence, blood, murder and gun use are prevalent and constant throughout the fic. please keep that in mind if you choose to proceed with this fic and the whole series.

read part one here

It was chaos the second you walked through the door.

You had never seen the house in such a state: orders being yelled out, people pushing past each other, guns and weapons being loaded onto belts and into bags, screams so loud they were basically incoherent.

Somewhere in the mess, Nico had taken your hand and refused to let go. You couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away just yet either.

He tugged you through the bustling crowd of people, pulling you towards a large dining room in the back of the house—the one used for the weekly family dinners—when the incoherent screams began to make sense. You could hear each of their voices so clear, so distinct, so angry.

It made something in your own chest tighten and twist into something ugly.

Jesper was the first one to notice you both. Or maybe he was the only one willing to tear his eyes away from the heart-stopping sight in the middle of the room.

You had seen Jack in many states. You had seen him in his usual everyday, bubbly and loud moods where he was charming and sweet and a little sassy. You had seen him drunk and clingy and throwing himself around like he was unstoppable. You had seen him silent and angry and huffy when things didn’t go his way, when he messed up or didn’t do something up to his personal standards.

You had seen him so many ways and yet, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him now.

He looked dead.

There was no other way to put it, no way to sugarcoat it. He was laying out on the dining table they used for family dinners: his face was black and bruised and cut up, his clothes were ripped and wrecked, his shirt was practically nonexistent and giving you a clear view of his torso.

It was shredded.

You had seen men die in a million different ways, fast and slow and easy and torturous. You had seen men on the brink of their life, begging and pleading and praying to a god that wasn’t watching over them. You had seen men beg for mercy. You had seen men so arrogant they could barely finish their sentence before the bullet was put through their head.

But you had never seen something like this—or maybe you had never seen someone you care about like this.

There were large gashes spanning across his stomach. They were huge and deep and gruesome to look at. And it was bloody. So bloody. So much blood seeping out of his wounds and staining his skin, his clothes, the table, the wood.

Everything.

And his body was unresponsive. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale.

And he looked dead.

Jack Hughes looked dead and it made you queasy.

It hadn’t even clicked to you where the screams were coming from, or rather who they were coming from before you heard Jesper talking.

“They can’t do anything to help him until he moves,” Jesper rasped, something quite like fear lacing his words as he spoke. “Nico, he’s freaking out and he’s—”

“I’m not leaving! I-I can’t! He can’t leave me!”

Your eyes snapped over Jesper’s shoulder, finally spotting Luke being held back by Kurtis and Kevin with sombre looks on their faces. He was thrashing against their hold, angry and worried and upset. For the first time since you met the boy, it hit you just how young he really looked when his emotions really took over.

“Get him out of here,” Nico hissed, short and snappy but the concern could still be heard.

“We can’t,” Jesper repeated, exasperated. “We tried—”

“Let me,” you spoke up, not even waiting for a response from the two boys before you headed straight towards Luke and the others.

“He can’t be dead,” Luke yelled, his voice raspy and broken. “He—He can’t!”

“Luke,” Kurtis tried, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. “They need to—”

“He’s not allowed to die!” Luke pleaded, his voice almost sounding like a choked out sob. “He…we…he can’t!”

“And he won’t,” you said in a firm voice, even if the words tasted like battery acid on your tongue. “He won’t die if you let them help, Luke.”

His eyes snapped away from Jack, away from his dying brother on the table, to look at you and it broke your heart. It broke your heart to see the fear and anguish and misery, a haunted look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand but shattered the pieces of your heart into dust regardless.

“I can’t do this alone,” he whispered, no longer tugging against the hands pulling him back as he stared at you with a hopeless expression. “I don’t want to do this without him.”

“You won’t,” you said it like a promise.

Luke shook his head, his eyes red and glossy from tears. “You don’t know that—”

“I do,” you interrupted. “I do know that. It’s scary, I know. But you’re not alone and neither is Jack. The doctors are going to do everything they can, Luke.”

A small ‘ooft’ left your lips as the boy stumbled forward, as his body fell into yours and you caught him as best you could, letting him press his face against your shoulder and let the fight leave his body.

“Let’s give them space, okay?” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Stay with me?”

“Of course,” you murmured, squeezing him tighter.

…

You had spent almost every day with Luke Hughes for the better part of the last four months.

You had seen the younger child charm in him, the slightly awkward but endearing allure that captivated a part of you. You never had any siblings, destined to be the only child your parents had, but you liked to think in another world you had a younger sibling quite like Luke: one that was good-natured and irritating and sassy and witty.

You liked to think that in this world, in this lifetime where you met under unwanted circumstances, that he was more than the boy appointed to be your bodyguard under Nico’s command.

Even from day one, he had never seemed like the young, obedient henchman following the instructions given to him by his boss in an eager attempt to please him. He became a friend, even if it took him a few weeks of wiggling his way into your life until you accepted it. You cared for him more than you ever cared for the younger boys back in New York that made feeble attempts to get on your good side to get an in with Jacob.

You had been denying a lot of emotions and feelings and truths to yourself over the last few weeks and Luke was one of them. You cared for the younger boy. You saw him as a friend, as a brother even. It hurt when he was upset with you, ignoring you for a few days.

And it hurt seeing him now, so broken and hopeless and a shell of the boy who was usually finding new ways to get under your skin.

“He’s all I have left,” Luke murmured, his cheek squished against the pillow beneath his head. “I know the Devils are a family but—”

“I know,” you assured him before the guilt of his words could swallow him whole. “He’s your brother. No one is judging you.”

“I should be beside him,” Luke rasped.

“What Jack needs right now is the doctors,” you murmured, pushing some curls away from his face and watching his eyes flutter shut. “And you need to rest.”

His eyes snapped open. “I can’t—”

“You will,” you said with a pointed look. “You can stay here. If he wakes up, I’ll wake you up.”

Luke swallowed. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you said with a soft smile.

“You’re a good person, Rogue,” he whispered as he slumped back down against the pillow, no longer fighting the exhaustion.

“Yeah, you too, kid,” you said fondly.

You didn’t move from your spot until the boy had fallen asleep, his breaths slowing and his face looking a little more peaceful as he rested. And even then, you remained for a little longer just in case. It was only once you were sure Luke was asleep and okay that you moved to stand up, throwing a blanket over him before you snuck out of your own bedroom.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you turned around to find Nico leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you.

“Sorry,” he shot you a sheepish smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I didn’t expect anyone to be outside,” you admitted, slumping against the door as you mirrored his smile. “How’s Jack?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Nico said, and you felt the relief hit you like a truck. Even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud (especially around Luke), you were terrified of the other outcome, that Luke would wake up to his brother gone. “Probably won’t be happy he will be stuck on bedrest for a few weeks.”

You snorted, despite yourself. “He will be bummed but at least he will be alive.”

“How’s Luke?” Nico asked, a crease between his brows as he tried—and failed—to hide his concern.

“He’ll be okay too,” you said with a soft but sad smile. “I know Jack is his brother but…god, seeing him like that was heartbreaking.”

“Thank you,” Nico murmured, watching as your face morphed into one of confusion before he nodded towards your bedroom. “For what you did for him.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said, the emotions of the last hour or so finally catching up on you as you tried to ease the suffocating feeling around your throat. “I always wanted a roommate,” you added, though the joke fell flat.

Nico frowned.

“Sorry,” you winced a little. “I was just going to sleep on the floor anyways—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nico quickly intercepted. “You can sleep in my room.”

You paused, raising your brows. “I thought that wasn’t until we were married.”

His lips twitched. “We can make some exceptions.”

…

The second you stepped into his room, you almost wanted to laugh.

Maybe it was the rush of emotions or maybe it was the fact that after four months, some things about Nico Hischier were so predictable to you and his bedroom was one of them. It had dark wooden floors and matching furniture. It was black silk sheets and a door that led off to a walk-in wardrobe where you could almost imagine all his suits neatly hung up. It was fit for a mob boss.

And then there were the things that did genuinely catch you by surprise.

The bookshelves stocked with a variety of titles you both recognised and had never heard of before. Trinkets dotted around the room like small reminders. Photo frames holding pictures that almost made him seem like a normal person, like he was just some twenty-something year old who wanted to decorate his space with sweet memories.

It was just another one of those things that made your chest tighten.

You had been staring at a photo on his dresser—one of him, Jonas and Timo grinning shamelessly at the camera whilst they sat in some bar—when you heard the man let out a sigh. He was slumped against the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair and almost looking out of place in his casual wear from the picnic.

And he looked exhausted. Dejected. Crushed.

Your feet were moving before you could stop yourself, before you could second-guess your actions.

Nico lifted his head as you stood in front of him, his legs spreading a little wider as you stood between them and replaced his hand with your own. His eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling for a few moments before you spoke.

“Jack and Luke will be fine,” you murmured, nails lightly scratching against his scalp as he let out a deep sigh.

“I know,” he swallowed harshly. “I just worry. They have been through so much and today could have been avoided and—”

You lightly tugged on his hair for him to continue.

Nico looked contemplative before he spoke. “Did Luke ever tell you about Quinn?”

Your brows furrowed together. “Who’s Quinn?”

“He was Jack and Luke’s oldest brother,” Nico said, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You blinked. “Was as in…?”

“Dead,” Nico confirmed with a nod. “They used to live in Toronto. They got into some shit with some bad people up there but Quinn never made it out alive. Jack and Luke were lucky to make it to New Jersey.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, the realisation hitting you like a punch in the gut. His freakout went beyond just caring about his brother, it was about potentially losing his second brother. “How old were they when—”

“Luke was thirteen or so,” Nico said with a blank face. “Jack turned sixteen a week after it happened.”

“Fuck,” you swore.

“Yeah,” he flashed you a sad smile. “Fuck indeed.”

You frowned. “They came to New Jersey alone?”

“I remember the day I first met them so clearly,” Nico murmured, swallowing back the thickness in the back of his throat that made it hard to mutter out the words. “They were so young and hopeless and—” He paused for a moment. “I promised myself I would never let them feel like that again. I know what this world is like and I know it’s impossible to put that on myself but I never wanted to see them or any of the others look like that again. And that was exactly what I saw in Luke today.”

“Nico,” you whispered softly.

“M’sorry,” he huffed out, tucking his head down as he let out a sad, pitiful laugh. “You just spent the last hour comforting Luke, you don’t need to do this again.”

“You care about them so much,” you murmured as you tugged his head back, as his chin rested on your stomach as he looked up at you. “And you put so much pressure on yourself to be the one they can lean on. But you need someone who takes care of you too.”

“I like taking care of them,” he whispered, soft and honest. “I like taking care of you. The Devils are my family and it’s my job to look after them, to be the one they can always rely on.”

“Let me be that to you,” you whispered back, your thumb lightly stroking against his cheek. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He leaned into your touch. “This is enough. This is all I need.”

And it felt hard to ignore when he whispered those words to you. It felt hard to push down the feelings you had been having for the last few weeks, to ignore what you think you had known for a while but couldn’t quite admit to yourself. It felt hard to ignore the truth.

You lowered your hands until both hands were cupping his face in your palms, your eyes meeting his warm gaze, your body trapped between his legs. It was close but not close enough and you never wanted to leave the twisted embrace.

It took less than a second before you leaned down to press your lips against his.

In an instant, Nico’s arms were winding around your thighs and tugging you closer. He kissed back like it was instinctive, like he had been waiting for the moment to approach. He kissed you like he loved you, in a way you had never experienced before. He kissed you like you had the rest of your life ahead of you to live off of these kisses. And you found that you really wanted that.

“I want to marry you,” you whispered, watching his expression change with the admission. “I don’t care about the wedding. I don’t care about finding the perfect venue or getting the most expensive flowers or any of it. I just want you. I just want to marry you.”

Your thumb pressed against the dip of his dimple as he smiled at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

His hands gripped your thighs, tightening his hold. “God, if I knew all it would take was one kiss, I would have made a move sooner.”

You snorted, trying to push him back but he just pulled you closer. “Shut up.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to catch up,” he added, but there was something affectionate in his voice.

“We may have been a little unconventional in the way we got here but I mean it,” you said, your palms still holding his face. “I want to marry you, Nico.”

“I can’t wait to marry you, baby.”

…

You weren’t shocked to find Luke already in the room, sitting by Jack’s bed where you had expected him to be since he woke up the following morning.

You were shocked to find that Jack was already awake.

If you were being completely honest, he didn’t look much better than when you last saw him, bleeding out on the dining table. But he was awake. His eyes were open, there was somehow still a smile on his face—even if it was a little tender—and he was talking, which was more than you were expecting to see.

He had been the one to spot you by the door first, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile as he nodded you to come in.

“Found time in your schedule to see lil’ old me? I’m honoured.”

You shook your head, though it was almost fond. “Good to see they didn’t break your sense of humour.”

“Gonna need to do more than almost kill me for that,” he joked, the words leaving his mouth before he even realised.

Your eyes instantly snapped towards Luke. There was a mixed expression on his face, one you couldn’t quite figure out but it was giving you the same overbearing need to hold him in your arms like you had done the previous night.

“Too soon,” Luke grumbled.

“Sorry,” Jack murmured, his eyes softening as he reached for his little brother, as he took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. Like a reassurance that he was still there.

“Well, there will be no more attempts because Nico has put you on bedrest indefinitely,” you quickly chimed in, crossing the room to stand by where Luke sat.

Jack’s jaw dropped. “What? No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” you snapped back, giving the boy a look. “You’re out, Hughes.”

“This is unfair,” Jack huffed, leaning back against his pillows and trying to hide his wince as he did so.

“It took us twenty minutes to get you to sit up,” Luke deadpanned. “For once in your life, listen to Nico.”

“Whatever,” Jack huffed. “I get jumped out of nowhere and yet, I am punished for it.”

“Nico is already on it,” you told the boy.

“If this is just going to be the same argument, I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Luke muttered as he stood up from his seat, wincing a little as he stretched his legs. “Do you want anything?”

You shook your head. “I already grabbed something with Nico earlier.”

Luke shot you a curious look but didn’t say anything before he left the room. His brother, on the other hand, was less than subtle. In fact, he was just downright blunt.

“Since when did you and Nico become so close?” Jack retorted, the pout long gone and replaced with a smile that oddly resembled the Cheshire Cat. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“He’s my fiancé,” you retorted. “I am bound to be close to him, aren’t I?”

“Oh, he so wore the white tank in front of you,” Jack snorted, only to wince a little afterwards. And yet, his injuries didn’t stop him from being a meddling gossip. “Did his plan to make you love him back finally work? Am I finally free from his two hour rants about which cufflinks you’d notice?”

You rolled your eyes. “Rest, Jack.” There was a small pause before you continued. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

His face softened. “Thank you for looking after Luke for me.”

“Anytime,” you murmured, giving him a soft smile. You hesitated for a moment before you reached out, squeezing his hand the way he had done with Luke earlier. “For both of you.”

Jack didn’t say anything but he nodded like he understood and, for now, that was more than enough for you.

…

It was the following Sunday when you received the call from Jacob Trouba.

It was ironic how much could change in a short space of time. Just a few months ago you were cursing his name for not reaching out after you stepped out of that meeting room, spent nights almost wishing he would finally reach out. The alliance was about bringing the Devils and Rangers together, and yet you just felt iced out from your previous life.

And now?

Now, you were staring at his name on your phone screen and you felt…indifferent. The feelings of awe, admiration and respect you once held for the leader of the Rangers was now gone, replaced with a sort of irritance that left a crawling sensation under your skin.

You waited three rings before you finally answered the call, lifting the phone to your ear with the oddest desire to hang up and end the call already. But you were curious and you knew he would never speak first.

“Calling on God’s day,” you mused. “This must be important.”

“It’s nice to hear your voice, Rogue.”

“Surprised you remember my name at all,” you snapped back, your fingers tracing over the spines of the books on Nico’s bookshelves. Despite the fact your room was now free, you had spent every day since in his room. You didn’t see that changing any time soon.

“Don’t be like that.”

You knew he was goading for a reaction. You could imagine the scene so clearly with him sitting in his office, leaning back in his chair with a knowing smirk on his face. You almost rolled your eyes at the thought.

“Is there a reason you’ve phoned me?” You asked, straightforward and blunt.

“Always so straight to the point. I’ve always liked that about you.”

This time you did roll your eyes. “Jacob.”

“Oh, c’mon, baby.” Your jaw clenched a little at the nickname, your stomach twisting in disgust at the word leaving anyone else’s mouth but Nico’s. “Don’t tell me you’ve become all stuck up and boring over there.”

“I thought I wasn’t your problem anymore,” you chimed, fingers fiddling with some random trinket as you spoke.

“I’ll always care about you, Rogue.”

“So you called to be sentimental?” You deadpanned.

“I apologise for wanting to catch up with my best girl.”

“Not your girl,” you gritted out. “Never have been, Trouba.”

“Oh, Trouba now? Guess Hischier has really gotten into that head of yours. It’s fine, you’ll snap out of it when you come back home.”

You froze, your brows furrowing together. “Excuse me?”

“I am breaking the alliance. The deal is off the table. You’re coming back to New York.”

You scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

“I do not permit you to marry him anymore.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you permit me to do,” you bit back, your irritance growing into something more angry. “You can’t just break the alliance, Jacob, you signed a contract. You both signed—”

“I don’t give two shits about the contract or the alliance or any of it. I expect you back in New York by Wednesday.”

You laughed, dry and unamused and severely pissed off. “Jersey is my home now.”

“So that’s it? After everything I do for you, and this is what I get in return?”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you retorted.

“Fine. Stay with the fucking rats.”

“You’re the one breaking the alliance!”

“And your future husband is the one that sent his pretty boy sniffing around my territory!”

Your jaw clenched. “It was you who attacked Jack?”

“Yes. A shame the bastard is alive. But that’s what I get for sending a couple of idiots to do the job.”

“And you’re responsible for just Jack?” You questioned, something quite like dread and anticipation swirling in your stomach.

“I look forward to seeing you crawling back to me, Rogue. I bet you look pretty on all fours.”

The line went dead before he finished his sentence.

…

The click of your heels were frantic as you approached Nico’s study.

You hadn’t bothered knocking, pushing the door open with the words ready on the tip of your tongue, only to find a handful of people already in the room. You froze for a moment, taking in their various expressions of concern, annoyance and contemplation. Your shoulders practically sagged in relief when your gaze caught Nico’s.

“You already know.”

He nodded in response.

“How?”

“The shredded alliance contract left burning at the front door was telling enough,” Nico answered with a frown.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

“He has someone working for him,” Nico continued. “Someone feeding him information. From Candy to the warehouses to Jack. Someone was telling him everything and we didn’t even fucking know.”

“What?” You shook your head, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. You were in his circle for years, someone he trusted, someone he confided in. You would have known about a spy in one of the Rangers’ biggest enemy territories, especially long before he was contemplating the alliance. “No, that’s not possible. I don’t know how he—”

“Do you not?” Timo questioned.

You blinked. “What?”

“Do you not know how?” Timo continued, something written across his expression that you couldn’t quite work out. “You’re close to Trouba, no? One of his lackeys?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating something?”

“Does a duck quack?” He retorted.

“Enough,” Nico interrupted, his lips turned downwards. “We don’t know for sure who—”

“Jacob Trouba is practically flaunting around New York that he gutted Jack,” Jesper chimed in. “He has someone he trusts—someone we trust too—whispering in his ear.”

“And you think it’s me?” You spluttered out, your shock clearly written across your face. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I am just pointing out the facts,” Jesper responded.

“I wasn’t even here when half of the attacks happened,” you retorted. “I didn’t even know I was coming here until that day in the meeting room.”

“So you say,” Timo muttered, eyes narrowed.

“I have spent every day for the last four months here,” you gritted out through clenched teeth. “What do you think I was doing? Sending carrier pigeons to Trouba?”

“You have a phone,” Timo pointed out.

You let out a humourless laugh, throwing the phone towards the boy as he effortlessly caught it. “Check it if you’re so sure.”

“We are wasting time,” John spoke up, having stayed mostly silent as he stood by the desk, brooding as he usually did. “And arguing is getting us nowhere.”

“Wherever he is leading you, it will be a trap,” you pointed out, ignoring the glares some of the boys were sending you and, instead, focusing on the one man you could rely on. “Nico, please. I know him. I know how his head works.”

Nico’s jaw clenched, a pained look in his eyes that made your heart twist in discomfort. But it was his words that cut through you, leaving it a little harder to breathe as he spoke with a blank face.

“Maybe it’s best if you stay behind.”

“You think I’m the rat?” You whispered, your voice cracking despite your attempts to keep it even.

He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

…

“Not you too.”

Luke didn’t say anything, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“Are you serious?”

Luke remained silent.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” you muttered under your breath as you threw the book down on the bed beside you, a failed attempt to distract yourself from the sick feeling in your stomach when you thought about what Nico was going to walk in to. “They need the fucking babysitter! They are the ones walking straight into a trap!”

Luke still remained silent.

“Do not fucking do this now,” you grumbled as you pushed yourself to stand up, rounding the bed and walking towards the boy. You almost scoffed as he moved just as quick, stepping in front of the door, blocking your way out. “You don’t seriously believe I’m the rat?”

“I am just following orders,” Luke stated.

“Luke,” you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips. “Do not fucking play with me right now. We spent every fucking waking moment together, do you really think I would do any of that?”

His eyes snapped down to you, a conflicted expression painted on his face.

“Do you really think I would do that to Jack?” You continued, your voice a little softer and you watched as the boy swallowed harshly.

“No,” he rasped, his voice rough but honest. “But there is a rat. Someone did do that to Jack and I—”

“I know,” you murmured, winding your arms around his torso. It didn’t take much for the boy to return the hug, to find comfort in your embrace. “We will find them. I promise. And I will personally let you be the one to give them what they deserve. But we need to help the others first before Trouba gets to them.”

“How can I help?”

You pulled back, a somewhat sheepish expression on your face. “Depends. How well do your puppy dog eyes work on Jack?”

…

“Absolutely not.”

“Jack—”

“Nuh uh. Not happening.”

“Dude, come on—”

“It’s bad enough that I am stuck in this bed whilst everyone else gets to go have fun,” Jack huffed, though the pile of pillows surrounding him did little to help sell the angry expression on his face. “I am not giving you my baby on top of everything else.”

You shot him a look. “You boys and your motor toys.”

Jack blanched. “She is not just a toy, she is—”

“A motorcycle,” Luke intercepted, shooting his brother an apologetic look.

His eyes narrowed. “Why can’t you just take one of the cars?”

Your gaze wandered to the floor, slightly sheepish as you shrugged. “I can’t drive stick.”

“Luke can.”

“Luke isn’t coming.”

“Wait, what?” Luke snapped his head around to look at you. “Yes, I am. You’re not going in alone.”

“It is bad enough that the rest of them are already there,” you bit out. “I am not letting you risk yourself too. You saw what he did to Jack.”

“I was caught off guard,” Jack grumbled.

“I am going alone and I am not arguing about this,” you said, hands on your hips as you waited for the boy to do the exact opposite and start arguing with you.

And just like clockwork, he did.

“How the hell am I supposed to help from here?” Luke questioned, a crease forming between his brows and the beginnings of the classic upset Hughes’ pout starting to show. “Jack is the injured one, I am completely fine!”

“Stop reminding me,” Jack sighed deeply.

“You can help from here,” you stated.

Luke shot you a look. “How?”

“I don’t care how you do it and I don’t care what lies you have to tell but get on that phone and get the others back as fast as you can,” you said, your face remaining serious. “Nico wouldn’t have taken them all. They are probably waiting somewhere as back up. Call them and get them back here. Lie, bribe, blackmail—do whatever.”

Jack blinked. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“I think killing them would be too easy for Trouba,” you said honestly. “I think there is a bigger picture we are not seeing and tonight is not the night to figure out what that is. At least not under Trouba’s discretion.”

Luke stared at you for a few moments. “Fine. But stay safe or whatever.”

You smiled, playfully patting his cheek. “Don’t worry about me, kid. I can handle myself.”

…

“So, she was right.”

Nico slowly turned his head to look at Timo who was on the chair next to him, his arms and legs tied tightly just like his were. He shot the other man a look, his face remaining blank and unimpressed.

“Got yourself quite a wife there, Boss. Smart lady,” he continued, flashing Nico a slightly strained smile.

“Your ability to act like we aren’t completely fucked is admirable,” Jonas deadpanned from his spot on the other side of Nico. “On the off chance we get out of here alive—”

“Which we probably won’t,” Timo supplied.

“—Nico will kill you for that comment alone,” Jonas finished.

“I wouldn’t,” Nico spoke up. “I would let her.”

Jonas snorted.

Timo nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“As endearing as this whole moment is,” another voice spoke up from the other side of the room. “You are really making me regret not bringing gags with me.”

“Kinky,” Timo mused.

Nico shot him another look.

“My bad for trying to make our last moments enjoyable,” Timo huffed.

“Would be enjoyable if the ropes weren’t tied so badly,” Jonas grumbled.

“God,” Jacob growled, pushing himself off the desk and walking towards where the three of them were currently stationed. “I don’t know how that little bitch could stand you for months. Thirty minutes and I don’t know if I want to put a bullet through your heads or mine.”

Nico’s jaw clenched. “Watch your mouth.”

“Aw, touched a nerve?” Jacob smiled as he closed the distance, crouching down a little so he was face to face with the Devils’ boss. “Possessive over your wannabe wife, Hischier?”

“Keep her out of this,” Nico growled, his teeth gritted.

“Hm, it’s cute you think you have any power here,” Jacob commented, his next movement a flash of blurred colours. It wasn’t until the pain erupted in his nose and he could feel the blood starting to drip down his face that he realised Jacob had smacked him with the handle of his gun. “Don’t make me muzzle you like a fucking mutt.”

“Bite me, Trouba,” Nico snapped back.

“He might be into that,” Timo murmured.

“Dude,” Jonas hissed.

Nico let out another groan, his head snapping to the side as Jacob pistol-whipped him once again.

“Hey!” Timo exclaimed, the legs of his chair scuffling against the floor as he tried to fight against the restraints.

“You were annoying me,” Jacob said with a shrug as he stood back up. “And his pretty face annoys me.”

Nico lifted his head, spitting the blood pooling inside his mouth in Jacob’s direction before flashing him a smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

Jacob shot him a blank look.

“My wife thinks I’m pretty too,” he continued, something almost sadistic written across his face. “Remind me, did she ever think you were pretty?”

“I think,” Jacob began, the telltale click of the safety lock being removed echoing through the empty office space. “I’m sick and tired of having your lot become such a problem for me.”

“Yeah, I could really tell from that alliance you signed,” Nico deadpanned.

Jacob let out a dry laugh. “There is no honest man in this life, Hischier. You’re a naive bastard if you believe anyone other than yourself.”

“He does know contracts are legally binding, right?” Timo muttered.

“Yeah, because everything we do is so legal,” Jonas drawled, unamused.

“Why sign it?” Nico questioned, his eyes trained on the man in front of him.

“It was fun messing with you,” Jacob said with a shrug.

“Bullshit,” Timo snorted. “You just laid back for four months for fun? Yeah, sure.”

Nico glanced at his friend before returning his gaze to Jacob. He noted the way his jaw clenched, his eye twitching a little in frustration. He tried—and failed—not to take pleasure in the small signs of annoyance.

“Because the plan didn’t work out the way you intended,” Nico guessed, and assuming from the small, irritated huff Jacob let out, he was right. “Because you had to hold back and work out some things but, like a petulant child, you ran out of patience. That’s why the attack on Jack was so messy. You threw caution out the window.”

“You seem far too interested in the fine details for a man in your position, Hischier,” Jacob grumbled.

“Call it a dead man’s curiosity,” Nico retorted with a smile.

“Speaking of death,” Timo piped up. “You are keeping us alive for a surprisingly long time.”

“Because he needs something from us,” Nico assumed.

“You think you’re so smart,” Jacob hissed.

“Well, he knows how to tie a better knot,” Jonas grumbled under his breath.

Nico shot him a look, only for Jonas to shrug in response.

“I’m just saying, you can tell he doesn’t do the dirty work.” Jonas added.

Jacob looked unimpressed. “I don’t typically lower myself to dirty work.”

“How noble,” Timo snorted.

“What are you waiting for?” Nico poked, his eyes narrowing a little with determination. “Why keep us alive? One bullet through my head and you would have everything you want. But you’re hesitating.”

“You done with your conspiracies?” Jacob bit back.

“Whatever it is you want, you’re not going to get it,” Nico told him, so sure of himself.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jacob responded.

Nico shrugged as best he could in his restraints. “I would.”

…

As a Ranger, you were one of Jacob’s top enforcers.

It was the unexpected factor that made you effective. The others were tall or buff or intimidating, but you were able to get away with a lot more—call it taking advantage of the inherent and ridiculous misogyny within the mob life.

But your effectiveness and skill was the exact reason why Jacob Trouba trusted you, why he let you in on the private meetings, why he kept you so close within his circle. It was also one of the main reasons why the initial arranged marriage caught you off guard.

You weren’t made for marriages of alliance, you were made for this.

The forty-eight floor office building in Lower Manhattan was an abandoned project that failed extensive safety acts but was too expensive for the city to knock down—in the books. Off the books, it was a grey area the police tended to look away from and not prod too much. It was the perfect place for someone like Trouba—who controlled the majority of the crime and underground businesses in New York, who didn’t like any more eyes on him than he allowed.

It was a building you were familiar with, one you had spent many days and nights in for the years you stood in Trouba’s circle. You knew the ins and outs, the various corridors to sneak around and hide. You knew the exact rooms where the screams and pleas of a man would be deaf to the bustling city outside. You knew which floors were reserved for the kind of things people with weak stomachs tended to avoid.

And, for the first time ever in your life, you stepped into the building with a sense of dread lingering over your head.

Every time you had ever stepped into this building, you were indifferent. You were there to complete a job and you always did so. You never hesitated or second-guessed yourself. You went in, you did your job and you left.

Because never once had there ever been the life of someone you cared about on the line—never once had you ever feared you wouldn’t be able to save someone’s life, rather than being the one to end it.

And yet, the mere idea of walking into one of these rooms and finding out you were too late was eating you alive as you made your way in through the side entrance, trying not to take the lack of men stationed around the building as a sign that you weren’t fast enough.

At least, it was eating you alive until you were distracted by your phone buzzing in your pocket.

“You better have a good fucking reason to be calling me right now.”

“First of all, that was rude. I am bed-ridden and lonely. You could at least say hi.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And second of all, I wanted to make sure my baby is okay.”

“Your motorcycle is fine, Jack,” you deadpanned.

“One scratch on her and we are going to have problems.”

“However will I escape your wrath when you are bound to your bed?” You questioned, the sarcasm dripping from your words as you made your way through the corridors—one hand holding your phone and the other clutching your gun.

“That was also rude.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. “Why did you call, Jack?”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.”

You paused for a moment, straightening your back. “Good news?”

“We got everyone back. Jesper is a little pissed. John is really pissed but that is on Luke for lying about—”

You quickly interrupted. “And the bad news?”

“Timo and Jonas are with Nico, so you are now on a three man rescue mission—”

“Which would have been easier if you let me come,” Luke yelled from somewhere in the background.

“And he is waiting for someone. Supposedly. We are assuming whoever the rat is.”

Your brows furrowed together. “How can you be so sure it’s them?”

“According to the dude Kurtis bet up for some information, Trouba has been sending money to the rat for months. Today was meant to be the day they met, and supposedly Nico was the price they demanded.”

“He doesn't even know who his rat is?” You scoffed. “I’m assuming there’s no real name attached to the account.”

“Unless you know a Barbra Parker who lives in Brooklyn and attends weekly zumba classes for senior citizens and sometimes attends church when she wants to gossip, then no. We have no name and no more clues towards whoever Trouba has been paying.”

You let out a sigh. “Great.”

“On the bright side, Jesper did admit he was wrong for accusing you and I got the admission on video for you to blackmail him with.”

You laughed a little. “Thanks, Jack.”

“We got your back, Rogue. You’re a Devil. But if Nico asks, this was totally my idea and he owes me dinner at that fancy steak place I got banned from three years ago.”

This time you did roll your eyes before hanging up.

…

Nico watched as Jacob Trouba paced the room, the nerves emitting from him like a bat signal for weakness as he kept glancing down at his watch. He had never seen such obvious and badly concealed emotions from a man like Trouba, it was almost off-putting to watch if he weren’t trying to work out the little puzzle in his head right now.

Most of the pieces were there, but there was something glaringly obvious that Nico was missing and it was starting to irritate him.

“It’s actually quite sad to watch,” Timo commented. “He looks like a distressed polar bear.”

Jonas flashed him a confused look. “What?”

“You know, those videos where the polar bear is in a zoo enclosure and gets really stressed and starts exhibiting weird behaviours?” Timo said, only to receive blank expressions in response. “What? I literally sent you the video a few weeks ago. Assholes.”

“You sent it to me when I was down in Philly,” Jonas retorted.

“Excuses,” Timo huffed.

“We really need to discuss your hostage conversation topics when we are back,” Nico deadpanned.

“Hard to have that discussion when you three will be dead in a few hours,” Jacob spoke up, turning to finally look at them for the first time in the last thirty minutes.

“Seems like you’ve been stood up, Trouba,” Nico assumed, the amusement clear in his voice despite the fact he was the one who was restrained. “It happens to many men, you’re in good company, I’m sure.”

Jacob clenched his jaw, rounding towards him. “You little—”

“Watch how you talk about my husband, Trouba.”

All four pairs of eyes snapped towards the entrance.

You stood there, your hands holding onto your gun tightly and pointing it directly at your former boss—your former friend—with your finger on the trigger. It was an odd feeling, one you had never really experienced before. Because as much as you wanted to tell yourself you felt indifferent towards Jacob—that maybe even a part of you despised him for the way he treated you over the last four months—there was a louder, more vocal voice in your head reminding you just who he was to you.

Just who he used to be to you.

And it was so fucking disorienting.

Something quite like surprise and elation crossed Jacob’s face. “Rogue.”

“Drop the gun,” you nodded towards the gun in his hand. “Right now.”

He smiled, his head tilting a little. “You know I’m not going to do that. And I know why you’re really here, you can drop the act.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“Not quite on your knees,” he continued, his grin growing when Nico let out a string of curses. “But I knew you’d come back to me.”

“Your ego is truly astounding,” you mused, your eyes glued on Trouba. You couldn’t look towards Nico. Not right yet. Not until you had dealt with the man in front of you. “Almost as pathetic as your mind games.”

Jacob cocked an eyebrow.

“I mean, of all the people to choose as your rat,” you continued, watching as his face dropped a little as the lie passed your lips. “You really thought I wouldn’t find out?”

Jacob huffed out a laugh, dry and a bit tense. “Rogue—”

“Meanwhile, you don’t even know who your rat is,” you added.

His jaw clenched a little. “I do.”

“Do you?” You questioned.

“You were always the smartest one in my ranks,” Jacob mused.

“And yet, you sent me away,” you finished for him.

“But you came back,” Jacob grinned, as though he had planned this all along, as though he was the mastermind. “Like I always knew you would.”

“And you need your ears checked because I think I have made myself very clear where I stand,” you gritted out.

“Don’t tell me you have gone soft for him?” Jacob scoffed, looking at you in a mix of disbelief and amusement. But when your gun remained pointed at him, he only laughed. “Yeah? You expect me to believe you’re going to do it? Fine then.”

You watched as his gun moved away from Nico, watched as the barrel of the gun was pointed towards you instead. Something prickled under your skin, your hair standing on the nape of your neck. You have watched that gun in his hands kill so many people and now it was directed at you.

It felt so wrong and, yet, you didn’t lower your weapon either.

“Is this what you wanted? Some noble showdown to prove yourself to them?” Jacob goaded. “They will never trust you. You will never be one of them, no matter who you marry or who’s dick you suck. You will always be an outsider. You will always be a Ranger.”

Your jaw twitched. “I stopped being a Ranger the second you sold me off like fucking cattle.”

“Rogue, baby, you never stopped as long as I say you haven’t,” Jacob smiled, all-knowing and smug. “Now, put the gun down. The game was cute but it’s getting a bit dull now. You’ve put on your little show, you’ve made your point. It won’t happen again. Scout’s promise.”

You stared at the man for a few moments, stared at the person you once knew so well. “You know the difference between me and you?”

He raised his brows. “What?”

“You’re far too sentimental over shit that doesn’t ultimately matter anymore,” you said, your finger pressing down on the trigger before you even finished your sentence.

Jacob let out a pained exclamation, his body falling towards the floor as his hand instantly went to the bullet wound now oozing blood from his thigh. His grip on his gun was still firm but before he could even raise it, you shot him once more on the opposite shoulder, letting his cries of pain bounce through the room.

“Take this as my one and only mercy, Trouba, for the man you once were to me,” you spoke, blunt and indifferent as you approached the man. Your foot was pining his wrist down, letting you throw his gun towards the other side of the room before you turned back to him. “Next time you even touch a hair on my family’s head, I’ll put a bullet through yours. Remember that.”

Jacob didn’t even get a chance to reply to your threat before you slammed the handle of your gun against his temple, knocking him out cold as he laid motionless on the ground.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Your head snapped around, finally settling on the three men tied to the chairs in front of you. You took a quick glance over Jonas and Timo, happy to see a limited amount of blood on them before your eyes finally stopped on Nico. It was almost embarrassing the way relief drowned you at the sight of him smiling at you.

“Fucking hell,” you murmured out, your body moving on autopilot as you stumbled towards him. You took his face in your hands, unbothered about the blood drying on his face as you leaned your forehead against his. “I fucking told you I was right.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, baby, you did. Should listen to you more often.”

You smiled a little. “You have time to learn.”

“All the time in the world, Rogue,” he confirmed, his nose nudging against yours.

“This is really cute and that was really badass but could you two please stop so she can untie us and we can go home?” Timo spoke up.

“Please, it’s insulting having these terribly tied knots holding us down,” Jonas added.

You laughed, pulling away to look at the other two with a fond smile. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

…

“You know, I am pretty sure it’s considered rude to sneak away from the party when the party is for us.”

“I don’t see you trying very hard to go back to the party.”

“Well,” Nico said with a heavy sigh, trying to bite back his smile as he let you pull him towards the counter you were currently sitting on. “I am a weak man when it comes to the whims of my beautiful, cunning, scheming wife—”

You snorted, your arms wrapping around his neck as he stood between your legs. “So dramatic.”

“You still married me though,” Nico grinned, his hands on your thighs as he shamelessly played with the edge of the little white dress you put on for the occasion. “You’re stuck with me, baby. I’m all yours.”

“What a tragic life sentence,” you mused, your eyes softening a little as you leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips. “What have I got myself into?”

“Hm, let’s see,” he started, puffing his cheeks a little before he let out a sigh. “We are basically at war with the Rangers and all their allies, there’s an unknown rat in our ranks that knows we are on their tail and one of my best men is still out of service until further notice. Add in the fact that we have a handful of rocky aliases to strengthen across the country, especially the west coast, and you have a pretty big fucking mess you’re walking into.”

“But it’s something we will solve together,” you said in a determined voice, your hands moving to cup his face so you could stare into his eyes. “Me and you. In sickness and in health and in huge fucking messes.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t remember that in the wedding vows.”

You shrugged. “I’m paraphrasing.”

He laughed softly as he fisted the material of your skirt in his hands. “There is no one else I would rather have standing by my side, Mrs Hischier.”

“Good,” you huffed, lifting your chin a little as the mischief shone in your eyes. “Because in the wise words of a smart man I know, you’re stuck with me, baby. I’m all yours.”

His grin widened. “And that is more than enough for me.”

Your smile pressed against his as he leaned in to kiss you again, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you sunk into the embrace. The music thumping through the speakers could still be heard, even so far from the actual party, but in the arms of your husband is exactly where you wanted—no, needed—to be.

You huffed out a small laugh, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to bat his wandering hands away as he squeezed your thighs before tugging you closer to the edge of the counter. You pulled back a little, taking in his flushed cheeks and shining eyes and felt something quite like fondness explode in your chest.

“I am so in love with you, Nico Hischier,” you whispered, like a soft confession shared just between the two of you.

“I’m glad you’ve finally caught up, baby,” he whispered back. “It’s about time people know.”

“Know what?”

But his grin only widened, the love and adoration he held for you so clearly written across his face as he cupped your face in his hands. “That my girl is a Devil, through and through.”

And as you stared back at him with a similar expression on your face, there were a few things you knew for certain: Nico Hishcier was the leader of the New Jersey Devils, he was a kind and fair man despite the world you lived in, and that you were truly and utterly in love with him.

And you knew that you would stand by his side whatever the world threw at the two of you.

For better or for worse.

Until death do you part.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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elronds-meleth-nin · 4 months ago

Text

Ancient Script

This is for my dear friend @bigblissandlove1! Thank you so much for putting up with me screaming about this brainrot! I hope you enjoy this fic, my friend.

I'm not tagging anyone else in this, because the taglist I set up was for a whole other fic outside of RoP. If anyone wants to be tagged in future fics from The Hobbit, LotR, or RoP, please let me know! This is an AU fic in 2 regards: 1.) Soulmate AU 2.) it's set in the early Third Age - Adar is presumed dead by Sauron who has taken control of the Uruks, and he's biding his time in a small village while he concocts a plan.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff with a couple of mentions of violence, but nothing graphic.]

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Uruk/Human romance, kissing, soulmarks are your soulmate's name in their handwriting, he falls first, he kills a man to protect her but it's not graphic.

~*~

The shop selling arms and armor had been around in our village longer than I'd been alive, and certainly longer than the seven years I'd lived there. The shop owner, a rather private Ellon, wasn't exactly outgoing, at least, not to most people in the village.

But me...he would actively ask how I was when I passed each morning on my delivery route from the baker's shop. Perhaps it was because the scent of freshly baked bread was irresistible. Or maybe his lack of conversation with the others had made him lonely and desperate enough to try and interact with the one person who had never been rude to him.

The others seemed to find it acceptable to be less courteous just because he was different. I never did, though. My parents had taught me to be kind to all, even before we'd picked up and moved from the next village over for an opportunity for my father's business to grow.

So, every morning as I made deliveries up and down the main road, I eagerly looked forward to the moment when he'd open the door to his shop and allow me a brief conversation - that was more than most people got when they weren't discussing the particulars of a transaction with him.

This morning was only slightly different. Usually, I delivered to his end of the road first, but today I needed to make sure I ended there, instead. So, in reverse order, I made my way steadily toward his shop, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw his door open as usual when I was only a few steps away.

"There you are," he rasped as a small smile stretched his lips. "I had begun to wonder if you had forgotten me this morning."

"Oh, no! Never, sir," I said as I pulled his usual weekly order out of my basket, neatly wrapped in baker's cloth and tied with a little string. His fingertips brushed mine as he took it, and I let out a huff of nervous laughter. "Actually, I had a reason to save you for last, today. Assuming that your shop is already open, of course. If not, I can always come back later."

"For you, my door is always open, my lady," he said taking a step back and gesturing for me to come inside. I'd never actually been in his shop before.

"Thank you, sir," I murmured slipping in and trying to stay out of his way.

The scent of leather and metal, polish and grit permeated the air within the store, giving the whole place the feeling of an army at rest. Gleaming plate armor, razor-sharp swords, knives of nearly-infinite variety, and bows that looked lethal even at a glance were all neatly arranged on shelves and wall hooks.

I should've come here sooner.

"Now, what was so important that you felt you must rearrange your entire morning?" The Ellon asked as he laid the wrapped loaf of bread on the desk where he changed coin and made trades.

"Ah, 'tis twofold," I said as I opened my bag and pulled out my small, sheathed dagger. The shimmering blue stone laid into the hilt glinted as brightly in the morning light as it did the day my grandfather had given it to me. "The lower priority of the two would be my dagger. I lent it to one of my neighbors, and, well..."

Carefully unsheathing it, I showed him the now-split blade.

"If it is beyond repair, I certainly understand, but..." I shrugged, and he lifted the blade, inspecting its surface with his experienced eye.

"Not at all. This is easily fixed. I can have it for you by tomorrow morning," he murmured, laying it gently - almost reverently - on his desk and looking at me curiously. "And the second of your needs, my lady?"

Subconsciously, I ran my thumb over the cloth that covered my illegible soulmark. I knew whoever it was likely couldn't be entirely certain that I truly existed or, like me, could not read my name where it was inked upon their skin, but touching it even indirectly was still a comfort.

"I need to find a gift for my father. His birthday is in a fortnight, and I was wondering if, perhaps, I could examine your bows?"

He smiled at that.

"Certainly. Come with me." The Ellon led me to one of the large displays at the side, adjusting the sleeve of his tunic as he did so. When we reached the long line of curved and carved wood, I felt an answering touch through my soulmark - something so delicate that I could never be certain if I was just imagining things or if it was real. "If you already have a particular style in mind, then pay me no attention, but I must admit I am familiar with your father's current - let us say 'well-loved' - weapon. This, perhaps, might suit his needs and accommodate his firing style."

Lifting an intricately-carved bow from the rack, he strung it in one much-too-smooth movement that made my breath hitch. Clearly Elvish in design, that bow was finer than any that either my father or I owned.

"I know that you are an archer yourself, my lady. Come, feel the flex," he said moving around me and coaxing the carved grip into my hand. His chest pressed lightly against my back as I gave the string a pull mimicking aiming an arrow. His breath fanned lightly over my scalp, and when he spoke again, I fought not to blush. "You have excellent form. Anyone who opposed you would be doomed from the beginning."

His voice was low and gentle...intimate, in a way. I tried not to think about how luxuriant it would be to hear that soft, raspy voice murmur my name on a cold winter's night when we were curled up in front of a crackling fire.

A familiar shard of guilt wound through me. What would my soulmate, whoever they were, think of me fantasizing about someone else?

Slowly releasing the bowstring, I tried to tamp down my thoughts.

"This will be perfect." Thankfully, my voice betrayed none of my internal conflict, and I was gifted a small, pleased smile as he led me back to his desk. I'd never seen him smile at anyone else. Solemn yet polite, the Ellon before me seemed rather detached from everything in the village save his work, as if he was waiting for something...as if we were a mere respite from a path he must sooner or later traverse.

Fifty years was a long time to wait, but to him, I supposed, it must be a mere blink. Lives like those around him in the village must be barely worthy of his attention.

I'd be forgotten as quickly as wind whispered through the trees.

What must it be like to be significant enough to warrant even half that recognition in the eyes of one as long-lived as he? I heard my father and one of his business associates discussing the topic over mugs of ale one night in the tavern. Each believed he was several hundreds of years old. My father with all his knowledge of Elves had mused aloud after his friend left that he would not be surprised to find that our resident Ellon merchant had accrued over a thousand years of life.

"Scars like that," he'd said, "are the kind one gets in great wars. The last of which was a very long time ago, indeed."

I was inclined to agree, but where others saw a fearsome, intimidating being not to be approached unless necessity demanded it, I'd found a kindred spirit. He might not be outgoing and overly cheerful, but he was kind. His strength was beyond that of a mortal's, yet he could hold freshly-baked bread so gently that his fingers left no impression.

Even as he wrapped my father's new bow, including a few extra neatly-coiled bowstrings, I couldn't help but wonder how many people had judged him so harshly over the years? How many had feared him so severely that nobody even knew his name? It was true that I knew it not, but that came rather from a sense of embarrassment than fear. After all, what is a tactful way of asking a person's name after years of trying to be respectful without prying into his business? Admitting that nobody in the village knew it would only emphasize how different he was...how lonesome and separate he appeared compared to everyone else.

Oh, damn my fears! I was going to ask him, even if it took all my courage. He deserved to be called by his name as was respectful. For the moment, though, I drew my attention back to the present.

"What do I owe you, sir?" I asked as I reached in my satchel for my little drawstring bag of coins. I'd saved up for long weeks. A quality bow like the one he'd shown me could easily cost fifteen gold pieces. Taking on extra work and small tasks outside of the bakery, I'd managed to save seventeen gold pieces and a few silvers - enough for the bow and repairs for my dagger.

As he tied the wrapping with thick twine, he glanced up at me and, with an entirely straight face, muttered "three gold pieces."

I froze. That couldn't be correct!

"Forgive me, sir, I...I believe I misheard you–" I stammered, but he cut me off.

"No, indeed, my lady. You heard correctly." He looked as serene as the morning dew, green eyes giving away nothing.

"B-But, sir, if I paid such a low price, that would be tantamount to theft! I could not possibly abuse you so!"

He lifted an eyebrow at my assertion.

"Have you, or have you not been instructing the baker to take half of the price of my regular order of bread out of your wages for the last seven years, my lady?"

I blinked, and words failed me for a long beat.

"How did you...?" He gave me a knowing look even as my tongue trailed uselessly off into silence.

"Did you think I would not notice that the price I'd been paying for years was cut in half after a mere week of your employment?"

As a matter of fact, I'd hoped he would assume it was a mere coincidence.

"I have been, but–"

"Then, my lady, please allow me this small liberty," he said walking around his desk to stand before me. "You surely have paid for this bow several times over by now."

My cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze, but I persisted.

"I did not do so with the expectation of repayment–"

"Very well, then," he murmured, "two gold pieces."

My lips parted in surprise.

"Sir–" Silencing me with a raised hand, he smirked.

"The more you argue, the lower my price. I believe we are currently at one gold piece. Shall we descend into silvers?" Mischief danced in his eyes, but he was serious in his assertion.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked before I could think better of it.

"Because it pleases me," he said looking at me with a steady, constant expression. "Does one need a reason to be kind?"

I felt as though I'd been struck. I'd asked him the same question less than a month after beginning my job with the baker. He'd remembered! I'd thought it was a trivial sort of question at the time, but I suppose if he'd remembered it, I must've struck a chord within him.

"But I don't even know your name," I stammered in a last ditch effort to convince him I wasn't worth his losing so much money.

"Do you think I am unaware of that fact? I have not told it to anyone in decades. None here know it, yet you are the only one who cares that you do not know." He brushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear with the sort of delicacy that one would not expect a weapons merchant to possess. "You see me. That is why it pleases me to make this easier for you."

It took every ounce of self-control within me not to tilt my head and lean into his touch. His gaze dropped to my lips, and he licked his own - a barely-there flick of his tongue that I would've missed had I blinked but an instant earlier.

"If...you still wish to know my name when you retrieve your dagger in the morning, I shall tell it to you, my lady," he murmured even quieter than before.

"Surely you will allow me to pay the correct price for that, sir?" I asked, and a measure of mirth flickered across his expression as he lowered his hand.

"The correct price for you, my lady, would be absolutely nothing. In that regard, yes, I will be charging you the correct price," he stated in a tone that brooked no argument. "I look forward to seeing you come the morn. You may wish to take your father's gift home before he returns so that it might remain a secret."

Nodding silently, I laid three gold pieces on the desk and picked up the wrapped package. Thanking him, I made for the door, hoping that he would not notice the extra coins - surely he knew I couldn't allow him to undercharge me so severely? Before I'd made it more than two steps, however, one of his arms slid around my waist, stopping me in my tracks like a bar of steel.

"Not so fast, meleth," he breathed against the shell of my ear, and I heard the clinking of two coins as they dropped back into my bag. "A valiant attempt, I must admit. I shall see you on the morrow."

Throughout the long walk home, I could not rid myself of the sensation of his lips brushing against my ear nor his breath slightly stirring the hair upon my scalp. The ghostly memory of his arm catching my waist stayed with me until I fell asleep at nearly midnight.

Adar could remember the day her name appeared on his arm more clearly than almost any other - a feat for a being with many thousands of years under his belt. He'd been preparing to open his shop for the day when pain lanced across the inside of his forearm. His scars ached occasionally, but this pain was so sharp and different that he'd nearly dropped the newly-forged sword he was preparing to put on display.

Tugging his sleeve back, there it was: her name written in curling, shaky, yet careful font - the way her handwriting would look. He'd been so amazed that he had been given a soulmate after so long that he'd simply dropped onto a stool and stared at his arm for a time. Before her name appeared, he hadn't even been certain that his heavily scarred skin would allow him to see a name should one choose to appear, but now that he had his answer, he faced a new problem.

Should his soulmate have to face the burden of his existence when he was so twisted and broken? Morgoth's scars marred nearly every inch of his body, his face inspired fear in everyone he encountered, and he'd even failed his children. They'd fallen under Sauron's control again, and as they believed him dead, there was no chance they'd listen to him. They'd sooner believe he was a fraud than their father.

For several years, he'd covered the mark, barely daring to check if it was still there when he washed himself. Eventually though, as the years passed, he noticed that his soulmate would touch her own mark almost compulsively. Perhaps she was nervous and simply attempting to calm herself...

The first few times it happened, he ignored it, believing the gentle touch to be no more than a figment of his imagination, but after a while, he ached with the thought that she might believe that she was not wanted. He began following her caresses with a gentle one of his own. He hoped that it was enough that she would not give in to that fear.

Her existence was a miracle to him, even if she could not read his name. He knew she would be unable to, for the language to which he was accustomed had not been written in many thousands of years.

The day he first saw her, too, was vividly embedded in his mind.

A knock had sounded at the door to his shop. He'd ignored it the first time. The baker's delivery boy - unreliable as he was - typically knocked, leaving his wrapped bread upon the doorstep before scurrying away from his threshold as if it was diseased. Adar assumed that it was he who knocked that morning, so he went on as usual. After a few seconds, however, a second knock sounded, accompanied by a feminine voice.

"Delivery from the baker," came the call though the wooden door. Adar had been so surprised that he laid aside his work and opened the door without any further hesitation.

She was beautiful. The early morning sun illuminated her kind, smiling face in a manner befitting one of the Valar. Expecting her to flee upon her first glance at his face, the Uruk was stunned when her nervous smile widened a fraction.

"Good morning, sir," she chirped happily as she pulled his wrapped loaf of bread from her little basket. "I kept everything well-covered, so it should still be warm from the oven."

Accepting the bundle from her with a quiet, stunned rasp of 'thank you, my lady,' Adar couldn't help but watch as she gave a little curtsy and headed on toward the next shop. The cool, gentle breeze had teased her hair and skirt, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his softest blanket so that she would not feel the chill.

One as radiant and lovely as she did not deserve to live in anything less than the most luxurious sort of comfort. His heart had not stirred like that in...he could not remember the last time it had.

He'd heard someone call her name that afternoon - the same name that was etched indelibly on his forearm - and that had startled him more than anything ever had before. This warm ray of light was his soulmate? What had he done to deserve her? He, who was cracked and broken, scarred and burned...none could ever be worthy of her, most especially not him.

A servant of darkness, one marred and twisted by its shadows, should have nothing to do with such a being of light and joy.

Merely a week later, he'd placed his usual order with the baker, and he'd been asked for half of what he usually owed. At his own prodding confusion, the rotund little Man behind the counter had told him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye that someone thought kindly of him. It was not difficult to guess who it was. With all of her smiles and kind words, her unfailingly cheerful greetings whenever she saw him, Adar knew at once that it was her.

She tried to keep it secret, never once bringing up the topic, but he tried to repay her kindness with conversation. He'd been rusty, at first - he still was - but he didn't know how else to show her his gratitude.

Then, one day, he was afforded an opportunity to do so. Traders came through periodically, both seeking and offering wares. Most were well-behaved, exhausted people who wanted no more than to earn a living, but occasionally, there was an outlier among them. A trouble-maker.

One such passed through barely a year hence, and Adar had not liked the way his gaze lingered upon his lady as she made her morning rounds. He watched her too intently and for too long a duration for one with innocent thoughts in mind. No, the Uruk had seen too many over the years with such a glint in their dark, soulless eyes.

When she reached Adar's shop that morning, he'd glared at her evil shadow before gently grasping her hand and suggesting in a low voice that she keep her dagger handy until that particular caravan had left. She'd given him a reassuring smile and pulled the edge of her shawl back just far enough to show him the hilt where it was already strapped at her waist.

He'd never been so proud in all his life, but that didn't stop him from keeping a close eye on her for the rest of the day. None had noticed that his shop was closed with freshly-scattered alfirin seeds before it that afternoon, nor had the filth watching her seen that he was being followed by death's ruined right hand. The trader had followed her halfway back to her home and had begun to catch up with her when a flash of black and silver tugged him silently behind a tree.

The only sound that heralded the scum's death was a snap. She'd turned to look for what had made the noise, believing it to be a branch, and when she found nothing, she made her way safely home.

Her Uruk protector had disposed of the body beside a field where wild horses grazed, laying an empty bottle of spirits beside him. The next morning when the corpse was found, it was obvious to all that he'd gotten drunk, tried to ride one of the beasts, and had been thrown to his death. Adar guarded her door each night until the caravan left. The alfirin seeds had sprouted within mere days, and if any in the village had known their true meaning, the white blooms would have screamed his deed to the world.

But none were the wiser, and his lady was safe. That was all that mattered to him.

Fixing her dagger now was nothing less than a privilege. He'd told her it was easily repaired. In truth, it needed to be reforged. He'd shut his shop for the day and rolled up his sleeves to begin the work.

In the morning, after sharpening the blade's edge, he unlocked his shop door and awaited her arrival. He'd told her that she'd have his name today if she was still interested, but...he was tempted to give her more than that...to show her his mark. His self-indulgent moments when he showed her the bow and when he'd returned her coins had carved themselves upon his heart, stirring within him the desire to hold her again and never let go.

He'd been alone for so long that he now felt like a drowning man each time her eyes met his. She was so close, yet just out of reach. Could she see how much she meant to him? Could she tell that he would save, burn, or change the world entirely at her behest?

The door creaked inward, drawing him out of his thoughts. She was back. He stood straighter as she approached.

"Good morning, my lady." The tentative smile she gave him showed him all that he needed to know. It was time that he told her everything. If she rejected him, well...he'd come to expect pain. It would not surprise him, though, it would be worse than anything he'd yet experienced.

"Good morning," I murmured in return. My heart raced in my chest, and I hoped that my voice didn't sound as nervous as I felt. Smoothing my dress a bit further, I approached his desk. "I hope I haven't put you to any trouble."

"Not at all," he answered with a small smile as he lifted my dagger from his desk. "Come, let me show you what I have done."

I did as he asked, moving closer and paying entirely too much attention to the way his large hands dwarfed my little blade. He pulled it carefully from the sheath, showing me his handiwork. He'd polished it, too. The scent floated through the air in a familiar curl.

"Oh, it looks as good as new!" I exclaimed as he handed it carefully to me. The leather grip on the hilt had been replaced and even the balance had improved! "I cannot thank you enough, sir, truly."

"It was my honor, my lady," he said as I passed the blade back. He slid it neatly into its sheath. "Do be cautious. I gave it a quick pass over the whetstone this morning. 'Tis sharper than before."

"Are you sure you won't accept at least some sort of payment?" I asked, and he gave me a mock-stern look. I raised my hands in surrender. "My apologies."

"Gladly accepted."

After a long pause, I finally asked what I'd wanted to.

"May I still ask your name, sir? If your mind has changed, or if you simply do not wish to reveal it, I swear I will not press you on the matter."

He was quiet for a long enough moment that I nearly began pouring forth apologies.

"You are the only one I have wished to tell," he admitted. "You may call me Adar."

Adar. I knew that word from somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Thank you, Adar. I shan't tell a soul without your permission," I promised, and with an appreciative nod, he held out my sheathed dagger.

"Tell me," he rasped, not relinquishing his hold on my weapon quite yet, "why do you keep your forearm covered?"

I gave a nervous laugh, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

"I...My soulmark is there. I can't read it. Never have I encountered a language quite like it...whatever it might be."

He gave a small smile.

"I can read it." Adar's assertion snapped my gaze up to meet his once more.

"Sir?"

"If you would prefer that I not, that is entirely your prerogative, but I can almost guarantee you that I will be able to read it." When I hesitated, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Let me help you, my lady."

Quickly stowing my blade in my bag, I began to unwrap the fabric I kept tied over my arm. As I did so, the need to explain myself pulled a flood of words from me.

"I'm not ashamed of my soulmate, whoever they might be, but after a while, the looks I got when people glimpsed the writing...the pity, the confusion...the explanations became a bit tiresome. Besides, it is nobody's business save me and my soulmate," I murmured as the last bit of the cloth came free and fell away revealing the stark, black marks on my arm. Adar moved just a bit closer, a small smile stretching his lips as he caught my arm gently in his grasp. "Can...? Do you recognize it?"

For a moment, he was silent, only nodding his head in response, but that was enough to send my heart racing in my chest. That was more than anyone had told me about my mark in all my years.

"I have not seen this language written in an Age," he breathed, and after a long moment, his eyes met mine. "I am certain that if you knew the answer, you would regret inquiring about your soulmate's identity."

I couldn't hide my confusion.

"What do you mean? No matter who they are, if the marks are any indication, I can handle it. I have never known them to be wrong," I said, and he looked back down at my arm. "Please. You are the only hope I have of ever being able to read it."

His grip on my arm loosened somewhat, as if he was expecting me to tear myself from his grasp.

"I...have not used this name in thousands of years," he whispered tracing the first half of the dark runes, "but it was still mine. I prefer Adar, now, but...your mark seems to have taken that into account."

My lips parted in surprise, but I was frozen as he traced his fingertips lightly, carefully over the rest of the marks near my wrist.

"Just after that slight separation is the name you would now recognize as mine," he murmured, then he lifted my wrist and placed a kiss onto my mark, reverent and affectionate. The ancient writing tingled and sparked over and beneath my skin, sending a wave of pleasure through me.

He released my arm and tugged back his own sleeve, showing me my scrawled name on his scarred forearm. Carefully, afraid that he'd disappear, that this would turn out to have just been a dream, I touched him just as he'd done.

"For whole Ages, my arm was blank. There were others whose marks were slow to appear, but those whom I knew waited mere centuries. I was convinced that I was not destined for that fate," Adar admitted as I touched the first letter of my name. "I wondered...if I would even be able to read a name should it appear on my skin, or if it would appear as twisted as my scars."

As a tear slipped down my cheek, I kissed his arm as he'd done to mine. The slight gasp that escaped him was like ambrosia for my soul.

"I'm so sorry. You waited for so long, and all you got for your trouble was a mortal with terrible penmanship..." I trailed off with a sniffle, but he tilted my chin up with his free hand and shook his head.

"It is beautiful, because it is yours. It tethered me to you. This mark meant that I was no longer alone." His soft, rasping voice was filled with emotion. "Do not apologize for giving me hope when I'd dared not cling to it for such a long time. I should be begging your forgiveness, my lady. You do not deserve one as unworthy as I."

I shook my head in protest.

"Only I decide what I deserve. If anything, it is I who does not deserve you," I murmured. "You who have lived so many lives...having seen and experienced things I could scarcely imagine..."

I reached up slowly so that he could stop me if he wished, but he made no move to do so. My fingertips brushed his cheeks as lightly as was physically possible.

"I could want no other but you. I have felt guilt for so long. I could not read my mark, but I felt when my soulmate touched his. And yet, I knew that I had lost my heart to you the day we met." My confession felt like the sweetest relief. "If that name had belonged to any other, I would have been distraught."

Adar leaned into my touch, closing his eyes and drawing a slow breath. Twin tears escaped, dripping down his face in an asynchronous race.

"Now that I have you, I cannot give you back, meleth," he warned as he stepped closer and rested his forehead against mine.

"Then, keep me," I whispered, and his lips finally, finally met mine.

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1

#elronds-meleth-nin fic #Adar x Reader

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uglypastels · 3 months ago

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Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a fic Logan being all stubborn and caring with an introverted/loner type reader? I’d love if if she were sort of like him in terms of aging and had been used as a sort of weapon in her past, now she’s afraid to be with him, thinking she’d hurt him or something? And he just reassures her that even if she did, he wouldn’t leave her alone. If not that’s completely fine but thanks for reading! Loved your last fic btw!! 💚

i did my best with this and i really hope you enjoy it. also it might not be super clear from how i wrote it, but i wasn't too sure on how else to include it, but the reader's mutation is meant to be that she has spikes pull and retract from all over her body, kind of like a porcupine... ? idk i wanted it to be similar to logan's but different.

warnings: trauma/severe ptsd. angst. nightmares. crying. aggression.

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Sweetheart, wait,’ Logan called after you.

‘Don’t call me that, Logan!’ You exclaimed as you shut the door, tears ready to burst. You let the weight of your body fall against the door, your arm reaching for the bolt to lock it. You didn’t know what had come over you. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But perhaps that was exactly it. Just one too many times, had Logan come too close. At first, you hadn’t minded it all too much. Actually, you kind of enjoyed it. It was safe when you knew to keep him at a distance. But each time he persisted, you felt your walls tremble beneath his strength, and you wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. And then that happened… people would get hurt. As they always did.

‘Please, I just want to talk.’ His voice was muffled through the door. But you could feel him as if he was right next to you. The heat of his body radiating right through everything and onto you.

‘Just leave.’ You shouted back at him. Eventually, he would have to give up and go. If not for rest, then nutrition; if not food, then he would certainly need a drink.

‘I’m not leaving you. Not like this.’ He tried the handle, but it just rattled uselessly next to you. ‘C’mon, let me in.’

The tears finally broke through the dam and flooded your cheeks as years of emotions and memories overwhelmed you. It all suddenly flashed before your eyes. Both the things you remembered and those that felt like images from a movie you had never seen before. Puzzle pieces of a life you did not remember and only made your head spin more.

‘It’s happening again, isn’t it?’ He always knew. You weren’t sure how, but Logan could always tell when you were having an episode. Possibly because he was the only other person on earth who understood. Who knew exactly what you had gone through. Perhaps you had known each other before the experiment, but neither of you remembered. All you knew was that you had found eachother, both lost, confused and afraid. You fought for and with eachother, but there would always be one thing that kept you at a distance, no matter how hard Logan would try to get closer to you.

Some minds just weren’t as strong as others, and after everything that had happened, it started to take a toll on you and your powers. The nights where you woke up screaming, bedsheets soaked in cold sweat, had been in the hundreds. And Logan would always be the first one at your side, ignoring the searing pain of the thousand needles that perforated his skin as he held you.

You couldn’t always control your powers. Not when you were in such a state. You were working on it, but the weekly sessions you had with the professor could only do so much. There was only so much Logan could take, and seeing him get hurt because of you only added to the fuel of the nightmares. You had never told him how the lost dozen times you awoke in terror was because of the image of his dying frame at your mercy.

But that’s all that it was. Nightmares. And you would never let it become reality. That was a promise you had made yourself a long time ago.

You were pulled back to reality by a loud, hollow thud coming from the other side of the door. Logan punched the wall, nearly cracking the layers, as he called out to you with no response. Your name echoed through the building, the simple word getting filled with more and more worry with each repetition.

‘Why do you care, anyway, Logan?’

‘Because I love you, damn it!’ He burst out, and it was like the oxygen had been taken from your lungs. Time stood still. You couldn’t move, breathe, speak. Even clear thoughts couldn’t form in your mind. You had no response. None that wouldn’t bring any less hurt than you already had. But the warmth radiating through that door never left your side. For what you didn’t know was that Logan had also made a promise a long time ago, and you’d have to kill him before he’d break it. That much was sure.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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captainkirkk · 8 months ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Miraculous Ladybug

Open My Eyes by buggachat

Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.

(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)

(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)

“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”

(Adrien has some things to find out.)

the good, the bad, and the power hungry by konan_konan

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・8hr if one more person tweets about #superlex unironically im gonna end it all 391K Views | 200 Retweets | 13 Quote Tweets | 22.1K Likes

j-son of a bitch ☑ @jsntdd・8hr ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo hurr durr these are the consequences of ur actions bitch 201K Views | 109 Retweets | 4 Quote Tweets | 18.4K Likes

or: lex luthor makes bad choices. and then, so does everyone else.

call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.

This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

how big, how blue, how beautiful by merils

Kon-El is not good with medical settings. One could even say he's quite bad with them. How bad, exactly?

Well, let's put it this way: Very few things in the world can make him scream for Superman to save him.

(Superman will save him. That's what family's for, right?)

Clone Wars

The Kenobi Chronicles by WobblyCat

General Kenobi isn't actually dead. Someone should really tell that to his troopers, though.

Or: The clones under General Kenobi's command have a groupchat dedicated to him. Cody wishes his subordinates weren't so fucking stupid.

SVSSS

Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc by SpicyReyes

The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests. This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him. If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!

second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox

"All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information. "Who am I supposed to be?" Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders. Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh. [Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]

or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?

#my laptop broke :(( can i get an f in the notes #i'm using my super old one from high school rn and i am Struggling #my posts #weekly fic round up #fic recs #svsss recs #dc recs #sw recs #ml recs

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butcherlarry · 3 months ago

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Weekly Fic Recs 78

There probably won't be a fic rec list for next Saturday, I will be preparing something special for Superbat Week 2024 during that time :) In the mean time, enjoy this extra long fic rec list (and yes, Poolverine still has my brain trapped in its adamantium grip).

Blood and Honey by RedFive - Superbat, wip. An update to this fic where Bruce is a mershark with a pod of orphaned killer whales that take down rich people's yachts, and Clark is the marine biologist who studies them.

A Prior Engagement by Imagine_sleeping - Superbat, wip. An AU where Bruce in a prince who has an arranged marriage with Lex Luthor :( Needless to say, he runs away and runs into handsome famer Clark :)

A lesson in trust by CGJ - Superbat, complete. Desk sex. Also, RIP Lex's desk, lololololololol.

World's Greatest Detective by p0lartang - Superbat, complete. Some hilarious identity porn where Bruce finds out Superman's civilian identity in the silliest way possible.

Our Gravity Keeps Us Together by Skylarium_Rose @skylariumrose - Superbat, wip. Aliens keep mistaking Superman and Batman as husband and wife 💖💖💖

A kindred bond by Nyszu @theocddiaries - Superbat, wip. An update to the fic where Bruce was kidnapped by an evil Superman (but don't worry! He was rescued :)) and now has to deal with Trauma™.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 @ktkat99 - Superbat, Superfam, Batfam, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! The lost doggo's owners have been found! But they don't want him back :( Maybe someone else *cough cough* Connor *cough cough* could take him in? 🥺

girl on the moon by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - DickBabs, complete. Barbara is having some frustrations about getting off. Dick is there to help :)

boyish notion of false emotion by Violet138 @violent138 - Martha/Thomas Wayne, complete. Martha and Thomas meet for the first time. What I love about this fic is that you can see the bits of beliefs and personality that Bruce gets from each of them :)

take me by the hand take, take me somewhere knew by WhatIsAir - Poolverine, complete. Logan has a bit of amnesia after saving the world at the end of the movie, and assumes he and Wade are dating. Shenanigans ensue.

Oh Logan series by LianthLining (ActuallyAMenace) @actually-a-menace - Poolverine, stories complete, series wip. Omegaverse, kinda. A series that looks at Wade and Logan's relationship where Logan is an omega.

only you can make me (scream and beg for more) by yellow_crayon @yellowwwcrayon - Poolverine, wip. Omegaverse, kinda. An update! Logan gets kidnapped. Wade goes off to save his wife with some help from his friends Johnny Storm Captain America and Jessica Bucky. Needless to say, I am Excited for the Shenanigans that are about to ensue.

Save Me (Or Five Times Logan Needed Wade's Help And The One Time He Just Needed Wade) by Curupia @curupia - Poolverine, complete. Logan goes on a series of terrible dates and Wade bales him out. Shenanigans ensue.

How To Pay For Rent by fictionfest @fictionfeast - Poolverine, wip. Wade and Logan pay rent by taking on jobs they (Wade) find on Craigslist. Shenanigans ensue.

make me into something sweet by mothgardens @mothgardens - Poolverine, wip. An update to the teacher AU! Wade and Logan take the drama kids on a trip to an escape room for bonding time :)

Didn't Know How Lost I Was (Until I found You) by lunardeath @angrylittlehoneybadger - Poolverine, wip. No Powers AU. Wade is a cancer survivor who needs a job because America is Terrible when it comes to health care (among other things). He ends up taking a security job at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Oh gee, I wonder who else could be a teacher there... :)))))))))

You had that look in your eyes by jayyxx @ghostycas - Poolverine, complete. Part of the Wade n Logan series. A 5+1 fic where Logan is figuring things out. The other fics in the series are fantastic too, so give them a read as well if you haven't :)

Domestic Poolverine series by jenniferlawrencelover @jenniferlawrencelover - Poolverine, latest fic in series is wip. All the fics in this series is SO GOOD and SO FUNNY and fucked up in the best possible way. I LOVE Logan and Wade's relationship in this fic and all the romantic milestones they go through.

Happy reading!!

#weekly fic recs #fic recs #fic rec #fanfic recs #fanfic rec list #fanfiction reccomendations #superbat #batman #bruce wayne #batfam #superman #clark kent #poolverine #wade wilson #deadpool #logan howlett #wolverine

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hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent · 6 months ago

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GUESS THE AUTHOR IS BACK!

That’s right, it’s that time of year again! Hop to your keyboards and get your betting slips ready, because it’s HERMITCRAFT GUESS THE AUTHOR 2024!

But what IS Guess The Author? Simple! You’ll have until THE DEADLINE to write a work (or multiple works, or dust off an old WIP, we won’t judge) and get it in the collection. (Which can be viewed right there!)

When THE DEADLINE hits, we will reveal the collection while keeping it anonymous. Once it’s open, the readers go and guess who wrote what! One week later, we’ll reveal who our authors are!

Don’t worry, we’ll be posting weekly reminders, just like last time!

Now, on to the important stuff!

THE DEADLINE will be July 7th, 2024, at Midnight EST.

(Here’s a handy little countdown clock we’ve made just for the occasion!)

The collection (To where you’ll post your works) can be added to by following the instructions HERE.

Now, we do have some ground rules:

-THERE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO EXTENSIONS TO THE DEADLINE, PERIOD. We will not make exceptions. If your work isn’t in the collection by THE DEADLINE, it’s not getting in. If you don’t make it, you shouldn’t despair- post it anyway! This challenge is all about getting people writing, not some silly collection. That said, we will not reopen it for any reason.

-No smut. Sorry. Cut away from it, fade to black, heavily imply it, just no onscreen smut. Everything else is fine.

-Nothing explicitly illegal.

-No causing us to break TOS (Tumblr or Ao3!)

-Minimum wordcount of 50. There is no maximum!

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Other than that, do what you like! Horror, shipping, coffeeshops, we don’t care! The point is to write and have fun!

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#guess the author #mod post #Hermitfic #mcytblrsource

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spenceragnewfics · 3 months ago

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Could u do a fic where the reader is playing fnaf for a smosh games video and gets scared and Spencer comforts them? Ty!!

I loved this idea! It's so cute and I hope you love it as much as I do!!

FNAF ISN’T FUN! | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Warnings: FNAF, jumpscare mentioned, crying

Summary: The resident scream fanatic, Y/N, is ready to conquer the FNAF franchise...until she realizes how scary it really is.

Word Count: 678

“What’s up every pony! It’s your favorite scream fanatic, Y/N, here! Today, I was basically forced by my mean boyfriend to play Five Nights at Freddy’s today.” She says, starting the livestream. Alex Tran’s laugh can be heard as Spencer looks at her shocked, “I did not force you to play this! You were practically whining because you didn’t get to play them with Shayne and Amanda.” She rolls her eyes at his words before sending him a charming smile.

“Whatever, anyway, the plan is for me to try to complete as many of the games as I can. I’m only going to night five because I don’t think we’d have time for me to do night six on all the games.” She explains as she starts to read the chat. Y/N is a natural entertainer, she’s not in many videos as everyone agreed she does her best stuff when she’s able to interact with the audience. So, she has a weekly livestream show she does on the gaming channel. She usually has some of the other cast on but a good amount of the livestreams are just her in front of the camera and her riffing off with Spencer and Alex behind the camera.

“As most of you know, I am called the scream fanatic, because everytime I play a horror game for y’all, I scream like a baby and do it many many times. So, I don’t think that will change today, but maybe I can get upgraded to scream princess. What do y’all think?” She asks, a teasing smile on her face. The chat agrees that she might just get the upgrade based on how she has been in the past.

Taking a deep breath, she sends a nervous smile to the people watching then to Alex and Spencer. “Let’s get this party started, ponies.” She says before putting on her headphones then opening up the game. Her heart starts to beat faster immediately when the first game opens up.

“So, we are playing the games in release order. Not timeline order, we’re not doing a Marvel thing here.” She jokes before starting the first night. The first couple of nights go smoothly, nothing too crazy and she can sense most of the jumpscares so no screaming.

That is until she gets to night four. “Okay, chat, we are on night four! So far, I have been doing amazing.” She says, checking the cameras and waiting. Everything is going smoothly until she hears foxy running. “Shit, shit, shit.” She mutters as her brain pauses for a second before moving to close the doors but, it’s too late.

Foxy screams as he pops himself into the room and Y/N screams bloody murder as she throws the headphones off. She curles herself into a ball as some tears start to fall out of her eyes, “That was way worse than I thought it would be.” She says, her voice shaky.

Soon she feels familiar warm arms wrapping around her as Spencer moves his chair to be by her. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay.” He assures her, gently caressing her hair as he holds her. “I feel like such a baby.” She whines, forgetting they aren’t at home and are broadcasting to thousands of people.

“You’re not a baby. You just got scared is all. It’s natural.” He assures her, resting his chin on the top of her head as she leans into him.

Alex is smiling to himself as he watches the chat go crazy with seeing the two being so sweet together.

“Hey, guys. Hate to break up the love fest but we are still streaming.” He says, looking at the couple in front of him. “Do you wanna keep going?” Spencer asks as Y/N moves to sit up straight. “Yeah, just stay here?” She asks, grabbing his hand. “Of course.” He kisses the back of her hand before they both turn their attention back to the game.

“Okay, Foxy, you’re ass is mine!”

#smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #spencer agnew #smosh pit #spencer agnew x reader #smosh imagine #smosh x reader #fanfiction #fluff #spencer agnew fluff #romance #imagine #request #fnaf #smosh fnaf

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forjongseong · 1 year ago

Text

the other woman // heeseung (ENHYPEN)

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni) // warning: aged-up reader and Heeseung, profanity, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, implied cheating, basically PWP since this is so short. // wc: ~1.4k

summary: tonight is the night you see Heeseung, again, but you begin to wonder how much longer you are able to withstand the tortuous pleasure that is your weekly rendezvous with him, knowing that you are the other woman.

author’s note: I did a thing... this is my first (and maybe last?) Heeseung fic written in a you-POV.

before I explain just listen to this song first (if you haven't already), preferably while reading the lyrics:

I've had this thought for a while and somehow I feel like Heeseung suits the role better (I'm so sorry), and please do not go into enha's lives and start calling Heeseung a cheater okay lol this is definitely not a jab at to what happened to Jay

anyways I am also leaving this out here without a taglist and just let people find this through normal tags or reblogs.

let me know if you think I should write more for Heeseung! (and of course what you think about this one, feel free to scream in my asks).

The flash of red on the tip of your fingernails caught your sight as you fixed the curls on your freshly styled hair. It was Heeseung’s favorite color on you, you remembered him saying. You also remembered, vividly, how he said he loved the feel of your long red nails scratching his back. Since then, whenever he requested to meet up with you, you made sure to spend enough time to perfectly manicure your nails.

You flinched at the sound of the doorbell, and you swiftly made your way to the front door, passing the living room with a large vase sitting on top of the coffee table, filled with fresh-cut flowers. When you reached the foyer, there was another large vase filled with flowers. Most of them were from Heeseung, but when he did not have the time to send you some, you would always get a bouquet for yourself.

“God,” Heeseung muttered as soon as you opened the door for him. “Fucking finally.”

He loosened his tie and immediately leaned into you for a passionate kiss. The way your lips greeted him made him moan into your mouth, and you felt his hands snaking around your waist before moving down to squeeze your buttocks. Your tongues danced with each other for a few seconds before Heeseung pulled back, moved his face down to your neck, and took a deep breath as the tip of his nose grazed your skin.

“You always smell perfect,” he whispered, leaving a teasing lick down your jawline before moving up to peck your lips again.

You merely chuckled as you pulled him inside and closed the door behind him. Your fingers were tangled in his tie as you grabbed it and started dragging him slowly, and he followed behind you, keeping one arm around your waist so he could caress your body even longer.

“Did you wait for me too long?” Heeseung asked as you both entered your bedroom. His jacket was long gone, and he had chucked his tie somewhere on the floor while he was walking.

“It’s never a long wait if it’s for you,” you replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your legs.

Heeseung chuckled softly and slowly kneeled in front of you. “What a queen,” he said, pushing the hem of your nightgown up, revealing your legs. He kept pushing until the fabric reached above your knees, and he leaned in to give your knee a chaste kiss.

He then placed both his hands on your knees and started to spread your legs ever so gently. You sighed as you felt him kissing your inner thighs, moving from one leg to another. The kisses became wetter, sloppier, and all you wanted to do was for him to kiss you where it mattered the most.

You began brushing his hair back, letting out soft grunts from your lips as you feel his mouth inch closer to your core. The moment you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, you pulled on his hair and centered him between your legs, earning a heartful chuckle from his mouth.

“This is what I have been looking forward to the whole week,” Heeseung said, not taking his eyes off your clothed cunt.

“Heeseung,” you breathed. “Less talking, please.”

You swore you could hear him snicker before the force of his hands pinning you down made you lay back and close your eyes shut. He tugged your panties to the side, keeping them hooked on his fingers as his lips began to abuse your folds. He did not even start with soft kisses—you felt his tongue enter you instantly and the unholy moan you let out was one that your neighbors would talk about the next morning. His one arm keeping your leg down was not enough to keep your body from writhing under his touch, and you had lost the will to keep yourself quiet for the rest of the night.

It was what he did best, you thought, him eating you out. You remembered that one time he said that going down on you was a change from an 'old routine'. You figured that he did not get to do it much in the past, yet it was your favorite thing to receive from him, so you never complained.

Until now, when he unlatched his lips and lifted his head from between your legs.

You stared at him with a bewildered look on your face, and you see the smirk forming on his stained, wet lips.

“Don’t want you to finish too soon, darling.”

Heeseung unhooked his finger from your panties before roughly tugging it down, and then he pushed your nightgown all the way up until it revealed your breasts.

“Glad to know you’re excited too,” Heeseung continued, lightly pinching your nipple and chuckling when he heard you yelp.

“What did I say about talking?” you said, placing a hand over his wrist.

Heeseung clicked his tongue and leaned in, closing the gap between your bodies. You did not notice when he started unbuttoning his shirt, but the feeling of his chest brushing against your tits was already making you lose your mind.

“Maybe you should kiss me more if you don’t want me to talk,” he whispered against your lips.

You accepted the challenge and pulled him in by his neck, causing your teeth to clash. You both quickly got over it with him nibbling on your lower lip and you whimpering into his mouth. You then quickly got over him, pushing his shoulders down as you properly straddled him, keeping your lips locked throughout the whole process.

The night went on like your usual rendezvous with him—carnal, intimate, and passionate. The way you wrapped around him felt like second nature, and the feeling of his lips touching every inch of your body made you silently pray to a god, that you did not even believe in, to make the night endless and for the sun to never rise.

Your thighs wrapped around his waist as you climaxed, yanking his body towards you until you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and losing rhythm. He kissed your cheek with an open mouth as he finished inside of you, and for a second it was almost like you were fighting each other to breathe the same air.

Heeseung caressed the skin under your thigh, making you unwillingly let go of the grip you had around him. You looked at his face and saw beads of sweat forming around his forehead, so you gently brushed his hair back, your hand lingering on his cheek for a second. He reached for your hand and kissed the back of it before pushing himself up and away from your body.

You watched as he stood up and checked his reflection in the mirror of your vanity table. He licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair twice before he cleared his throat and started picking up his scattered clothes. You noticed the unusual rush in his behavior, so as you struggled to sit back up, you mustered the courage to ask him the question you dreaded the most.

“Do you have to go back to work?” you said softly, eyeing the clock on the wall. “It’s not that late. You can stay.”

Heeseung looked at you with an apologetic smile on his face. He was buckling his pants on and then tucking his shirt in.

“I have to get back to my wife,” he said openly. “I promised.”

You had heard him mention his wife numerous times before, but every time he does it, his words still stung.

“I’ll send you flowers in the morning, be there to receive them,” Heeseung continued, putting on his wristwatch. “And I’ll call you before my next visit.”

You were struggling to keep the tears from falling down your cheeks, and when Heeseung turned to face you, you beamed at him, blinking several times to clear your vision.

“Gosh, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered, more to himself. He then walked to your side of the bed, placed his hand on the small of your back, and kissed your lips hard before letting them go with a smack.

Heeseung walked to the bedroom door and held the handle. He turned to look at you and smiled before closing it shut. You stayed sitting on your bed for a while until you heard the front door closing, and then you collapsed to your bed, screaming your lungs out into the pillow.

The other woman will always cry herself to sleep The other woman will never have his love to keep And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone

-END-

back to masterlist // back to navigation

!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

#writtenbynana #fic: the other woman #enhypen #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #Spotify

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lokis-army-77 · 2 years ago

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heyyy omg i see your requests are open, could you do an angsty eddie fic with a female reader where they’re fwb and she’s in love with him but he’s always reminding her it’s just a casual thing and doesn’t want a commuted relationship. like he’s hooking up with other people and after a while just realizes he only wants reader. i need him to grovel a bit tho cause obvs reader would be hurt but with a happy ending pls? smut is optional tho just incase you don’t want to write that in that’s fine :)

More than Casual

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 3897

Reader is tired of being just a casual hook up and only when she is gone does Eddie realize the mistake he has made, and one night he shows up at her door, wanting forgiveness.

Warning: 18+ riding, oral (f receving), begging, Eddie has a surprise mommy kink, angst, fluff.

Masterlist

The air was clammy as Eddie pulled away from me. Both our bodies are slick with sweat and cum covering our legs. My body shook, muscles untensing from the powerful orgasm Eddie had just pushed me to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Eddie shrugged his sweatpants back on and pulled a cigarette from the box on the bedside table. Lighting it quickly before taking a long drag. His long slender waist flexed as he turned and the ripple of the muscles, you never would have thought were there, sent butterflies through my stomach.

Eddie always looked so handsome after sex. He never failed to make me want him even more than I already did.

Shakily, I tried to push myself into a seating position and as I did so Eddie came and grabbed my upper arms, studying me. Looking into his deep brown eyes, I smiled sweetly up at him.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, throat sore from screaming his name.

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart.” He gave me a crooked smile and used his right hand to wisp a few strands of hair out of my face. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” Eddie stood to his full height and left the bedroom. My ears pricked up as the sound of running water came from the bathroom and then shut off soon after. Edde was back in the room in no time with a warm rag in hand.

It was times like these when I fell in love with him harder. When he cares for me so selflessly after having fucked me within an inch of my life. It was times like these that shattered my heart completely.

After helping clean me up and settle back into my clothes Eddie laid back down on his bed. I sat on the edge, wondering if I should say something. In the end, I talked myself up to it.

“Hey, Eddie?” I asked quietly, hands wringing together.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?”

God, I hated that nickname, it always made me feel weak in the knees.

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see each other tomorrow night?” I shot my shot.

“Can’t, I’ve got someone coming over tomorrow night.” He said it so nonchalantly but it sent an arrow into my chest.

“Oh, well, how about Thursday night? We could order pizza, watch a movie?” I tried again, hoping he would say yes.

He sighed out my name sounding almost disappointed. “I told you when we started this,” he moved his pointed finger between us. “I don’t do relationships and I never will. Commitment just isn’t for me.” He shrugged his shoulders and I turned around to face his wall, eyes filling with tears.

“O-okay. Sorry, I asked.” I was trying so hard to keep my composer in front of him.

“I’ll call you alright?” He leaned over the bed and gave my back a short pat. I just nodded and stood to my feet, gathering up my bag and slipping on my shoes.

“Bye Eddie.” I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before I was rushing to the front door.

I cried as I buckled myself into my car and drove the five minutes home, but that’s what I get for falling in love with an almost weekly casual hook-up. To be honest, at first, it was fine. I was seeing other people and so was he, the only difference now was that, after almost a year and a half, I was solely seeing him while he still fucked around. But that’s what I signed on for and it’s my own fault that I am dealing with a broken heart.

A week later my house phone rang and was five till ten that night and the only person I knew who would be calling me then would have been Eddie. Slowly, I picked up the receiver and held it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Sweetheart, I’m so happy to hear your voice.” Eddie’s gruff voice cracked through the speaker in my ear. “Wanna hear it in person, feel your soft skin, taste sweet pussy.” He let out a slow moan, like the one you would do when you’ve eaten something to die for. “What’d ya say? Be over in five?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, yes, but I held myself back, the words dying on my tongue. I wanted to go to him but my heart just couldn’t handle any more of it. With a soft shake of my head that I knew he couldn’t see I spoke. “I don’t think so Eddie, not tonight.”

“Oh, well, that’s no problem. Maybe next time then. I’ll see ya later, Sweetheart.” And before I could tell him there would be no next time, he hung up the phone, probably to go call another one of his girls or guys on his list of hookups.

I went to bed that night lonely and upset, jealousy bubbling up in my stomach at the thought of him fucking someone other than me.

Another few days went by and right at eleven on the dot, the house phone rang. I shouldn’t have picked it up, but I did, Eddie’s slow, “Hey,” filled me with even more butterflies.

“Eddie,” I started, resting my head on the wall defeated. “I can’t do this tonight.”

“But I didn’t even say anything,” he chuckled.

“I mean it, Eddie. I can’t. As a matter of fact I- I’m stopping seeing you altogether.”

He was silent for a moment and all I could hear were the shuffling of his bedsheets.

“What?”

“I can’t be your causal friend with benefits anymore Eddie. Or rather just the benefits, we weren’t really friends.” I grumbled into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “I- what brought this on? I thought we were friends.” his words came out in confusion.

“Eddie, if we were friends, we would have hung out without fucking. We never hung out, it was always sex and then leaving. You said no relationships and I can’t put myself through the pain of having you fuck me like we’re something, take care of me after like we’re something, and then leave like I don’t know that you have a plethora of other people you are giving the exact same treatment.” I was so close to crying as I gripped the receiver in my hand, knuckles white from how strong my hold was.

“Sweetheart, come on-’

“Don’t call me that. I can’t think when you call me that.” I clenched my teeth. “Eddie, just leave me alone please.”

“I-” he sighed, defeated. “Okay. I’ll see you around town then, I guess.”

“Bye Eddie.” My voice was filled with a sternness that my body did not possess. I quietly hung up the phone and turned, back to the wall, and slid down. I cried for what seemed like the thousandth time over Eddie and I knew that I shouldn’t be. He wasn’t crying over me. But the ache of unrequited love was just too much to bear without having the tears fall.

Two weeks pass and I had neither heard from nor seen Eddie. I was still getting used to not going to his trailer on a semi-regular basis as well as trying to not think of him when I heard the phone ringing.

I had tried going out once, to a bar on the opposite side of town, far away from the Hideout where I knew Eddie would most likely be. It didn’t end too well, at least on my part. The guy I had met had a nice personality, but as far as rebounds from men who aren’t actually in a relationship with you go he wasn’t Eddie. The whole time we had been having sex in his apartment, I couldn't help but compare him to Eddie. How when we first started, Eddie would have eaten me out, the taste of my arousal and the sounds of my moans giving him pleasure like he had his cock inside me, but this guy, although he caressed my body with soft touches and hot lips, just went straight in humping into me like some dog with a rhythm issue.

He had come within seconds and left me to fend for myself. I slipped out of his bed in the middle of the night and drove home to finish myself off with my fingers.

The night after, I was woken from where I had fallen asleep on the living room couch by a knock on the door. Groaning, I stood to my feet and stretched, making my way to the front door. As I rubbed the sleep from my eye, I unlocked the door and slowly pulled it open. To my surprise, Eddie was standing under the yellow cone of light provided by the porch light.

Slowly I dripped my hand from my eye and stared at him and after a moment, when my senses returned to me, I tried to slam the door shut. He was the last person I wanted to see right now.

The door didn’t close, caught on his boot-clad foot as he stuck it between the door and the frame.

“Sweetheart, please.” Eddie’s voice came out in a plea.

I tried to push his foot back with my own but it was futile, he was much stronger than me, especially after I had only just woken up.

“Eddie, go away.”

“Please, I just wanna talk for a second. I’ll leave after I say what I have to. Just,” He sighed, looking down at his feet. “Please listen.”

I thought it over for a moment before opening the door wider and allowing him inside, shutting it behind him as he walked further into the living room. I didn’t look at him as I made my way back to my spot on the couch, cuddling back up with my blanket.

Eddie followed me, seating himself on the opposite side of the couch. He kept sighing as we sat in silence and it was starting to annoy me.

“Can you please say what you need to so you can go? I don’t have all night.” The words came out in a bite, much harsher than I had ever spoken to him in person before.

“Oh, um, yeah, sorry. I- I um, don’t really know how to say this to you but I think I might love you.”

His stuttering words sent a pang through my chest and stopped the air from flowing into my lungs. Love me? I slowly brought my eyes up to him.

“Look, keeping things casual is something I have done since I can remember. You can’t get hurt if you keep it casual. I was content to leave you alone until I realized that, weirdly, I missed having you around. Then my safety mechanism was the thing that hurt me. The thought of you not coming over made me sick to my stomach after you told me never to talk to you again, it tore my fucking heart out. I-I’ve never felt this way and it scares me shitless, but I can’t get you off my mind. I tried to block it out, I really did. Tried to go about it like I always do, just find someone new to, but every time I had someone come over I sat there wishing it was you.

“I know you probably hate me right now, I would hate myself too, but I just need you to know this. That I am wanting and willing to put myself in a place that makes me feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable because I can’t stand you not being around me. I’ve grown used to you and I don’t know what to do without you.”

I sat there stunned, his words processing through my brain a mile a minute. The only thing I could think about was the fact that he said he thought he loved me.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he responded to my quietness. “I said what I needed to, so ill be out of your hair. Just- you have my number.” Eddie stood to his feet, and I sat still as he shuffled to the door.

My heart jumped as I heard the doorknob turn. “Wait,” I called out.

Eddie stopped in his tracks.

“Do you mean it?” I asked simply.

His boots sounded as he walked back to the couch and in front of me. I avoided his eyes by bowing my head, not wanting him to see the fresh tears welling up. I couldn’t avoid him for long though, as he knelt town and took my chin in his hand, bringing my eyes to his.

“Oh sweetheart, I meant all of it.”

It was hard not to forgive him with those big, round, puppy dog eyes he was giving me but I held fast as I removed his hand from my chin.

“I’m still upset with you. Don’t think you can walk in here, tell me all this, and then everything will go back to how it was.” I shook a pointed finger at him.

He nodded.

“And I told you to stop calling me that, you probably call everyone that.” I huffed.

“But, Sweetheart, I don’t call everyone that. It's reserved, just for you.”

I hated how it made me feel special when I was supposed to be mad at him, but I couldn’t help it. Then, seeing him kneeling before me sparked an idea. I’d make him beg for my forgiveness.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’ll forgive you if you do something for me.”

His eyes narrowed at my sultry tone before his lips curved up in a smirk.

“What is it? I’ll do anything,” His large hands came to rest on my legs.

I leaned in, lips so close to touching his, and leaned away, he tried to follow, eyes half-lidded, as I came to rest my lips on the shell of his ear. “Beg,” I whispered and I swear I heard him moan.

Leaning back, I watched him shift onto his knees and he looked up at me with a pleading look.

“Please,” he whispered, “please forgive me.”

I hummed, “Gonna have to do better than that baby.” I grinned at him, as I took his hands off my legs and pushed a foot gently into the bulge in his pants. His choked moans sent a surge of power through me, a feeling so foreign yet good I was bound to get addicted to it.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered, “I’ll do anything you want, just please forgive me.”

I grinned, foot still rubbing over him, feeling him becoming harder. “Anything huh?”

“Yes.” He nodded frantically.

“Then, you can eat my pussy and I’ll think about it.”

I leaned back on the couch and pushed my hips up, pulling my quickly dampening panties off my legs and throwing them out somewhere in the room. Eddie stared in wonder as I opened my legs for him, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

He surged forward, latching himself around my clit. He let out a soft sigh at the same time as I let a loud moan fall from my parted lips. His tongue flittered over the sensitive nub and his hand came up to caress my thighs. I reached a hand down and lightly slapped the side of his face.

“Ah-ah-ah, no hands, just your mouth,” I instructed and he took his hands away immediately. I smiled, “Good boy.”

The fervor at which he sucked and licked all around my pussy was enough to have me bucking my hips into his face, riding his mouth until I was so close to my own high. He lapped his hot tongue into my quivering cunt. My hands buried themselves into his long curls, forcing him further into my heat.

I was squirming under his mouth as he kept going, eating me out like a man starved. My own arousal mixed with Eddie’s spit slipped slowly down the curve of my ass and onto the cushion of the couch.

“That’s it, Eddie, doing such a good job for me, being such a good boy.” I praised as I teetered on the edge. He whimpered into my pussy, before pulling back only slightly.

“Thank you, Mommy.” He mumbled then went back to work.

The name threw me off for only a second before I felt the warm tingles of an orgasm. My hips thrashed and my hands kept Eddie pushed into me as I rode out my high on his tongue.

Eddie kept his eyes on my wet cunt, the whole bottom half of his face covered in my cum, glistening as the lights in the room hit it. His face was lax and his body even more so, thoroughly pussy drunk. I smiled, happy as I was the one to make him this way.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and let Mommy ride your cock? Hum?” I asked, leaning up from my slouched position to run my thumb over his bottom lip, collecting my juices from it and placing it in my mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Yes, please.” He gasped, watching me lick my own arousal from my finger.

“Then get on the couch and lay down.” I patted the cushions next to me and he did as told, hurriedly laying down. I bit my lip, turned on at how obedient he was being. I had never known I would have been so into being in charge for once and having Eddie bending to my will instead of me to his.

Torturously I began to unbutton Eddies dark jeans and pull them down his legs, stopping when they reached his boots. The bulge in his boxers had me biting my lip, anticipating what I knew was hidden beneath them. I helped him take his shirt off as well.

Sitting back on his lap I caressed his chest, nails scratching over his skin, fingers pinching at his nipples. He bucked up into me and I gave him another soft slap to the face. “Stop that. You get what I give you, no taking what you want.”

He grunted but obeyed, stilling his hips.

“Now, before I fuck you, let me make something clear. I don’t want you touching me and I don’t want you cuming until I tell you to, is that clear?”

He nodded his head, muttering a small, “Yes.”

“I can’t hear you, baby,” I smirked. “What was that?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Very good, baby. Now, let's take these off.”

I moved back off his lap and pushed my fingers past the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down to meet his jeans at his ankles. Eddie’s cock bounced up, hitting his abdomen, precum smearing where the tip touched his skin. He was completely hard, head flushed a deep red, and twitching.

Taking his thick length into my hand, I gave him a few pumps. He whimpered at the feeling, hands balled into fists at his sides. I walked myself up his body on my knees and stopped right over his cock. Pulling his tip through my puffy folds, I exhaled shakily, ready to feel him filling me up.

With no warning, I pushed him into me, letting myself fall onto him slowly. The stretch of my walls around him elicited sweet moans from the both of us, the sounds harmonious, like a song.

“Fuck baby, you fill Mommy so well." I bounce a few times, letting my head fall back, groaning out before looking back down at his flushed face. "Say you're sorry. Beg me to forgive you."

Eddie furrowed his brow as I fucked him, concentration etched deep on his face as he tried not to touch me.

"Come on baby, let me hear you." I moan out, cunt clenching around his cock.

""Please," he gasps, air entering and exiting his lungs quickly. "Please mommy, forgive me. I'm so sorry. Wanna make it up to you."

"Yeah, baby? What's that? How you gonna make it up to me?" I sigh, hips grinding faster on him. I reached my hand up to play with my nipples, pulling and pinching.

"I-I- I'll fuck you really good, have you cum over and over on my tongue. Won't touch anyone else but you. I only want you, mommy, please forgive me." He begged, hands grasping at the couch cushions, lip pulled between his teeth.

"Yeah? Only me?" I reach a hand down to push against my clit, rubbing it almost furiously.

"Yes, baby, only you. I've only wanted you for a while." He grunts then lets out a choked gasp. "Gonna cum." His voice wobbles in worry.

"No cumming, I told you." I fuck myself harder, chasing my orgasm.

"No, no can't hold it." He cries, but I keep going, pussy clenching around him tightly.

My hand shoots out to his face, holding him to look at me. "You can, baby, and you will. Don't you wanna be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, yes I wanna be a good boy." He whimpers, cock twitching inside me.

I hum, hips now rocking at an uneven pace. "Gonna cum baby, gonna cum all over your cock."

"Yes, Mommy, cum on my cock." Eddie mewls.

My head lulls forward, eyes closed, body spasming to a stop as I cum, juices leaking around Eddie's cock. I prop myself on his chest catching my breath before opening my eyes again to stare into eddies. “You can cum now baby. You’ve been such a good boy.”

I let out a choked moan as Eddie pistons his hips up into my sore pussy, grabbing onto me as I fell forward. The feeling of him so deep in my count left me crying in pleasure and quickly cumming a second time as he found his release.

As he came his hips bucked irregularly into me, hot spurts of cum filling me up and making me shiver. He moaned loudly in my ear, muttering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I let my body go limp in his arms, struggling to catch my breath as he peppered kissed over my shoulder and neck.

“I meant it, Sweetheart, wanna be only yours, if you'll have me.”

I sighed into him, pulling my head back to meet his eyes. I gave him a small nod, “Okay. And I forgive you, but if you ever make me feel the way you did again, I won't hesitate to hurt you.” threatened, only half joking.

“Wouldn’t expect any less, baby.” He kissed me on the lips.

Laying back down on him, I sighed, feeling his softening cock still in my pussy.

“So,” I asked, mumbling into the skin of his chest. “Mommy huh?”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, hissing as my cunt clenched around him as I laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” I kiss just above the spider tattoo on his chest. “Although I wouldn’t mind being in charge sometimes, it was really fun.”

“Yea1h? You liked that?”

“I liked it, Eddie,” I confirmed.

“Then we'll see.” I could tell he was grinning into my hair as he spoke, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve got a question.”

“And I have an answer.”

“Will you be my girlfriend? Exclusively?”

I popped my head up and grinned at him. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader