#I'm sure someone's already noticed these similarities before but here they are again.

[werecreature-addicted]

Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

[darkbluekies]

King Edmund and Hedwig drabbles: running away but changing your mind and getting lost

Yandere!king & female!yandere x reader (female in Edmund’s case and gn in hedwigs)

I had a request similar to this like a year ago, but i deleted it because I couldn't come up with anything ... and now I have so ... that's annoying.

And this is probably the nicest Edmund has ever been. Weird.

BUT HEY I LOVE THE RELATIVES

Warnings: weapons, but actually pretty fluffy

King Edmund:

You had taken a horse and gone away into the forest. But here you are, sitting by a tree with the horse tied to a branch, hugging yourself and crying. What had you done? You finally realize how stupid you are. Why did you leave him? Why?

You're cold and lonely. Thieves are roaming the forest and you know that they would be delighted to find the queen all by herself. But you don't know the way home, and if you get up on your horse you risk going even further away. Staying in one place will be the best decision if you want to be found ... hopefully by the right people.

Suddenly, after what feels like (and probably have been) hours, you notice a sound.

"Y/N, your game is up."

Edmund!

You stand up and turn around, seeing him and his knights around you, their horses looking at you dumbly. The knights hold out their bayonets, but you don't care. You run over to Edmund, throwing yourself in his arms and crying ― crying in sorryness, in relief over being found by the right people, crying in fear and shame. Edmund's taken by surprise at first. He had been fully prepared to threaten you to get you to come back. Edmund's arms lock around you, securing your head into his shoulder.

"Lower your fucking weapons!" he tells the knights angrily. "Are you insane pointing them at us like that?!"

He turns to you, but before he has the chance to ask you how you're feeling of why you were so stupid to escape from him, you've already started rambling.

"I'm sorry, Edmund!" you sob. "I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did that! I regretted it immediatly, I promise! I wanted to go back but I-I lost my way and-" You can't finish your sentence, your breathe hitching with sobs.

"Shh, it's okay", he cooes, kissing your forehead. "You're back where you belong now, you're safe."

"I wanted to go back, I promise ... but I didn't know which way was the right one. I'm so sorry!"

You cry against his shoulder, hugging him tightly. Weirdly enough, you have never been happier to see someone that has hurt you. Edmund's your husband, you have accepted that. You hadn't realized that you had started to like him before now.

"It's okay, my dear", Edmund reassures you in a sweet, hushed tone and rests his head on top of yours, enjoying having you in his arms again. He rocks you back and forth gently, as if to coo you. "There's no need to cry, I'm here now. You will never have to worry when I'm here. You know that I will take care of everything."

His words are so comforting, so belieavable. You nod against his shoulder.

"Let's go home", he says. "You're cold."

He lifts you up on his white horse before cimbing up himself in front of you. You wrap your arms around his waist and hide your face into his warm back, crying even more. Why isn't he mad at you? You betrayed him. Edmund can't bring himself to be mad. You're genuinly sorry, he can't be mad at you for making a mistake ... a ridicolously stupid mistake, perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless. He needs to comfort you, not punish you.

"Make sure Y/N's horse comes with us", he says before riding off with you behind him.

Hedwig:

If you desperately had to fight with Hedwig about how controlling she is and storm off ... why did it have to be in a foreign country? You want to punch yourself for your idioticy. She's suffocating, yes, but you do love her ... somehow you still love her. And you want nothing more than to go back to her and have her hold you. How will you find her when you can't ask for directions back to her vacation house and can't trace your steps back. Why do European countries have to have such narrow, maze-like alleyways?!

You've found yourself on a bench in front of a cafe in the staking sun. You'll have to get up and look for the right way later, but your feet are probably bleeding.

"Y/N?!" you hear Hedwig's voice suddenly shriek. "Oh, my Gosh, Y/N!"

She runs over to the bench and you hurry to wrap your arms around her waist, hiding your face into her stomach. You can't help but sniffle in relief and sorry ... remembering how you left the house.

"I've been looking all over for you!" Hedwig pants. "I was so worried!"

"I'm sorry, Hedwig", you cry into her stomach. "For everything. I-"

She hugs your head closer and kisses the top of your head. "It's okay, I have forgiven you! "

She sits down on the bench next to you and cup your head into her hands. You sob.

"I'm just so happy to see you alive", she says in relief and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. "But, dear, you're dehydrated! You'll pass out!"

She takes out a bottle of water from her handbag and feeds you half of it, before water starts to run down your chin.

"Why haven't you been drinking water?" she asks worriedly. "You could have passed out and who knows how dangerous that could have been?!"

"i didn't have any money", you say quietly. "I'm so sorry, I tried to find my way back, because I regret that I left ... but I couldn't ask for directions. I can't speak the language and I didn't have my phone and-"

"It's okay. I forgive you. But please don't do it again. It's dangerous. And I was so worried. My father was close to calling the cops and having them look for you."

"I'm sorry, Hedwig."

She hugs you, letting you rest your heavy head on her shoulder.

"It's okay", she reassures you. "I'm not mad at you. You know that I only want your best, right?"

You nod.

"You need to cool down", she says and stands up, holding out her hand to you. "Let's go get you some ice cream."

"My feet hurt really bad", you mumble.

"I will buy you new shoes too, and bandage and everything you need. Will you come with me? Please?"

You sigh and take her hand. Hedwig is the most confusing person you know, because how can she be so horrible, yet so magical?

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TEN)

Masterlist

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My health has just been crap, had two hospitalizations for my chronic illness that got a flare up, but I'm back to writing now, with a long chapter!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 6K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, bestfriend!reader, fluff, tortuously slow smut scene, seduction, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), handjob (m!&f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), making out, dirty talk, sub!oscar, dom!oscar, switch!oscar

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

Oscar and Lando walked into Zak's office, the atmosphere immediately feeling thick with an unspoken tension. Zak stood by the window, looking out over the track before turning to face them with a serious expression.

"Take a seat, both of you," Zak said, his tone firm but not unkind. Oscar could feel his stomach twist with apprehension, Lando beside him shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Zak took a deep breath, folding his arms. "Alright, boys, let's cut straight to the chase. Oscar," he began, locking eyes with the young driver, "you need to watch out for your image. I understand things happen—you're young, life's fast, and sometimes emotions get the best of you. But kissing someone in public that you're not publicly dating, especially when that someone is a co-worker... it's not a smart move."

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Zak held up a hand to stop him. "The media's already catching on. Whispers are starting to circulate, and we need to get ahead of this before it turns into a full-blown story." Zak walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it. "That's why we've discussed the subject within the team and have a proposition for you" he started, taking a breath "The idea is to put you in a publicity stunt—a fake relationship with a girl. Someone from outside the company, someone who can help steer the narrative away from... well, from the internal complications."

Oscar blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and disbelief. "A fake relationship?" he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Zak nodded. "It's the best way to simmer down the talk. Give the media something else to focus on. You don't have to like it, Oscar, but it's probably what's best for now. We can't afford any distractions right now." Oscar nodded gently to his words, before Zak spoke up again "Or is there anything that we should maybe know about? Something more to the whole ordeal?"

The young Australian swallowed audibly, getting a little nervous "N-No, it's fine"

Lando noticed that Oscar didn't know what to say, visibly uncomfortable about it "He already got the lecture from Sophie" he said, taking a deep breath "I'm pretty sure he's aware that it was a very stupid mistake" Zak wordlessly agreed with Lando, so he continued on without more lecturing words. He looked at Oscar "So, what do you say?"

Lando shifted in his seat "Before he answers that, uh, why am I here, exactly?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Zak turned to him, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, well. We kinda had a similar proposition for you as well. If you'd both agree, we would set yours up in about 2 weeks after Oscar's" Lando's eyes widened. "What? Why?" Zak chuckled softly. "Come on, Lando. You haven't exactly been subtle with your... escapades with Daniel." Zak's tone was light, but his expression remained serious. "You've been trying to be, but it's starting to look pretty obvious." Lando flushed, glancing sideways at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I'm not against it," Zak continued, "Not at all. But you need to think about what you're doing. If the media catches wind of it... if anything goes wrong... it'll bite you in the ass, hard." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you want me to fake-date someone too, just to throw them off?" Zak nodded. "Exactly. We need to control the narrative before the narrative controls us." Oscar exchanged a glance with Lando, both of them feeling the weight of Zak's words settle on their shoulders. "Understood," Oscar finally said, his voice steady. "I'll do it if it's necessary." Lando hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "Yeah... me too. Whatever it takes." Zak smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Glad we're all on the same page. Now, let's get to work."

"So, any details on how we're supposed to do this then? Like, for how long? And what do you expect from us regarding those girls?"

Zak looked at the two boys "Well, at least a month, I guess. I think that'll do to simmer down the suspicions "We'll find a girl for you that looks a little like Y/n, just so people think that the girl in the press picture was that girl" 

Oscar nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat, not really knowing how to act about this.

"From there we want to start with her joining you in the paddock during a race. Maybe hold her hand, give her a kiss, pretending to be subtle, while you actually just want the cameras to catch on to it" Zak explained, leaning back in his chair "Just do couple-like stuff with her. Share a picture of you both on social media, or don't. That's up to you. After a month, you can just give a short explanation on your social media about how you were dating, but mutually decided to break up and are better off as friends" 

Lando shook his head "Do you have any idea how complicated this sounds?" he explained "I'm a formula 1 driver, not an actor. How do you expect me to fake being in love with someone?"

Zak sighed "I understand, Lando. You both don't have to do this if you really don't want to, but we all think it might be the best way to fight off the suspicions, in both of your cases" 

Oscar shifted his eyes from his lap back to the man in front of him "So you even want us to kiss the girls in question?" he asked

"I'm not forcing you into anything, but I think we both know that the media will have a hard time believing that you're dating someone if you refuse to kiss them" 

Later that day

Oscar was sprawled out belly down on his bed in his hotel room, replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. Lando was lying on the couch opposite Oscar’s bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Oscar muffled into his pillow, his voice heavy with frustration. “How am I even supposed to tell her this?”

Lando chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess using words would work,” he sassed, earning a glare from the Australian driver.

Oscar rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it across the room. Lando puffed out an exaggerated “Ooff,” then tossed the pillow back. “Hey! I was just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Sitting up against the headboard, Oscar sighed deeply. “I know, but I honestly don’t know how to break it to her.” His voice softened as he admitted, “I know it’s weird talking about this since she’s your sister and all, but I honestly don’t want to hurt her.”

Lando offered a sympathetic smile, sensing the weight behind Oscar’s words. “It’s okay, I’m fine with talking about it. I know you mean well,” Lando reassured him.

Oscar’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his knees toward his chest. “It’s just… I felt like things were finally going in the right direction. And now this shit happens. You know how much that sucks? I thought I finally had a chance to win over the girl of my dreams.” His voice trembled slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. “And now I have to pretend I’m in love with some random girl and kiss her in public… with her right there.”

Lando noticed the glint of emotion in Oscar’s eyes, his usually calm and collected friend on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It just sucks so much,” Lando admitted, sounding defeated himself. “Maybe you can just tell Zak you don’t want to do it if it makes you feel this bad.”

“I’m not doing this for me,” Oscar mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing this for her. I don’t want her career to be ruined because of me.”

Lando sat up, his tone more serious now. “It’s not your fault, Osc. It takes two to tango.”

Tears started to fall down Oscar’s cheeks as he shook his head. “It is my fault. I should’ve suppressed my feelings. I shouldn’t have bothered her with them. She’s my best friend, your sister, and my damn trainer.”

“Look, Osc,” Lando said gently, "Osc, your her best friend as well, you're her client, you're her brothers teammate. She’s just as responsible as you are. It’s not all on you.”

Oscar’s voice cracked. “I just don’t want people to think less of her. I don’t want the press to call her a gold digger or say she’s using me. If fake dating some random model stops all this crap, I’ll do it.” He rambled on, not realizing how much he was pouring out his heart. “You know, if the drama would be just about me, the decision would be easy. I wouldn’t even consider the PR stunt, I couldn’t care less about my career when it cones to her. Hell, I’d even quit racing for her. She's all I think about. When I close my eyes, all I see is her. Lando, I am so in love with her it hurts”

Lando’s eyes widened, the weight of Oscar’s confession hitting him hard. After a brief pause, he spoke softly. “Mate, you’re not going to lose her over this. I know she’s not going to think less of you or let this ruin things between you. I mean, it’s obvious you care about her so much, and even if you’re not officially dating… it’s there. Anyone can see that. You should go for it.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty. “But I don’t want to risk her losing her job because of this.”

Lando leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “But what if people don’t react the way we think? What if… instead of weird reactions, people actually love seeing you two together? A lot of drivers get shipped with each other, and the media loves my sister. Why wouldn’t they love you two together? Maybe we’re afraid of reactions that won’t even be there.”

Oscar hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But… we’re not even dating, Lando. I don’t even know what we are. We don’t have a label or anything. It’s all so uncertain.”

Lando grinned slightly. “Mate, the only reason you two aren’t official is because of your jobs and what other people might think. But even a blind person could see how in love you both are. You’re holding back for the wrong reasons. Don’t let that stop you.”

Oscar looked down, his emotions swirling inside him. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“Talk to her,” Lando urged. “She’ll understand. She’s smart, and she knows this whole fake relationship is just business. Nothing between you and that random girl means anything. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Oscar remained quiet for a moment, processing everything. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

“And don’t give up on her,” Lando added with a soft smile. “You care about her more than anyone else. My sister deserves someone who loves her as much as you do, and I know you’ll treat her well. Don’t let this fake PR crap get in the way of your own happiness.”

Oscar nodded, still uncertain but feeling the weight of Lando’s words sink in.

“If you need me to talk to her too, I will,” Lando offered. “A brother-sister chat might help clear her mind. Just keep communicating with her, Osc. You’ll get through this.”

The two drivers continued discussing the situation, with Oscar ultimately deciding that, for her sake, he didn’t want to risk going public yet. But he knew Lando was right—she would understand. It wasn’t ideal, and it sucked for both of them, but they had to keep talking, keep trusting each other.

“Yeah, it sucks,” Lando sighed, “but you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Oscar smiled "Enough about me now, what about you and Danny, are you okay?" Oscar then asked.

Lando nodded "It sucks of course, but I think it's for the best, you know. Danny will understand. He knows how this world works" he explained, playing with the string of his hoodie as he spoke "Besides, Danny is well aware of my feelings for him. Things have been going steady between us for a while now, it's just that we both aren't really in the mood to drop the 'We are both bisexual and dating our former teammate' bomb, yet. So if this is the solution for us to continue under the radar a bit more, then I'm sure he's fine with it" 

"That's good to hear" Oscar replied, a soft smile sporting his face. 

"So, you're not grossed out about me dating a dude?" Lando asks, a little nervous, even though deep down he knew the answer. 

Oscar shook his head immediately "Why would I be? Wouldn't make a difference if it were a boy or a girl, now would it? As long as the person makes you happy, I'm fine with anything" he says with a smile

"Besides, it was quite obvious you were into both men and women from the start. I think everyone within McLarens has the suspicion" Oscar chuckles.

A few hours later

Oscar had invited you to his hotel room for a cozy movie night before the chaos of race weekend officially began. That’s how you found yourself now, nestled comfortably in his arms on the soft bed, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The movie was playing, but neither of you was really paying attention. Instead, your focus had shifted to the weightier topic Oscar had brought up—one that hung in the air between you both.

He’d already explained the situation. Told you what Zak had proposed. He’d kept the details brief, just covering the essentials. There was going to be a PR relationship—a fake one—with another girl. Zak thought it was best for both your images, and Oscar had agreed, reluctantly, explaining that there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in the matter. He looked torn as he spoke, clearly not on board with the idea but unsure of any other way forward.

You weren’t happy with it either, though deep down, you’d expected something like this. The media had been buzzing for days, and the rumors surrounding you both were becoming harder to manage. Agreeing to the plan felt like the safest route for now, despite the unease that settled in your chest.

Oscar sighed softly, his breath warm against your hair. “But… what about us, though?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He averted his gaze for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to… try things with me anymore. If you have to watch me kiss someone else, even if it’s fake. I can imagine you wanting to call it quits.”

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, his uncertainty over how you felt. Slowly, you removed yourself from his embrace and shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so you could face him directly. His wide eyes followed your every movement as you settled on top of him.

"It’s not like you're kissing her by choice,” you said softly, your hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, and you leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. “I'm assuming she's not the one making you feel like this, now is she?”

Without waiting for an answer, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment your lips touched his skin, Oscar let out a soft, guttural groan, the sound almost desperate as his hands instinctively gripped your waist. Encouraged by his reaction, you trailed your lips higher, finding the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. You pressed a soft kiss there before sucking gently, enough to elicit another quiet sound from him, a mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You can fake date her all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke. “But as long as I’m the one making you moan at night, none of it matters.” You continued to kiss along the curve of his neck, your lips slow and purposeful, savoring every inch of his skin.

Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, and you felt the tension in his body as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. His heart was pounding beneath your palm as you slid your hand over his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, tracing the defined lines of his torso through the fabric, your touch feather-light and teasing. It riled you up to see how sensitive Oscar is to your touch. How you can make him tremble with something as little as a kiss and a few words. You absolutely loved it.

“I know it’s me who makes you feel like this,” you whispered seductively, your voice barely above a breath as your lips moved closer to his ear again. “I’m the one who gets you like this, aren’t I?”

Oscar whimpered softly in response, his breath catching as your hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing the bare skin of his abdomen. He was trembling now, his body betraying how deeply your touch affected him.

“I want to hear you say it,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Oscar. Tell me how I make you feel.”

His response was almost immediate, though his voice was strained, barely able to form words through the haze of desire. “You… you make me feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice laced with need. “No one else—no one makes me feel like you do.”

You smiled at his confession, your lips curving as you kissed his jawline, slowly making your way back to his lips. Your fingers slid up his chest, your nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing more breathy moans from him as you continued your slow, torturous seduction.

When your lips finally met his, you kissed him slowly, deeply, your tongue teasing his as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the strands. The combination of your touch and your kiss had him whimpering beneath you, his hands pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have any distance between you.

“You might have to kiss someone else in public,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak, your eyes dark with desire. “But I know I’m the one who gets you like this. I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

Oscar groaned again, the sound desperate as his hands moved to your thighs, squeezing softly. His breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you, the tension between you both thick enough to cut through. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the slow burn of your teasing.

Your lips trailed back to his neck, and you could feel his pulse racing under your tongue as you kissed along the column of his throat, sucking gently on the skin as you moved. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, each gasp and moan a testament to how much he was losing control under your touch.

“Tell me what you're thinking, baby” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oscar's breath hitched, his voice barely more than a strained groan. “I want you... to touch me,” he whimpered, his desperation raw. “I need you. Please.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips again, your hand sliding down his chest, savoring the way his body shuddered beneath your touch. You could feel the heat between you building, the anticipation thick in the air as you took your time, savoring every moment of his response.

He was yours—every groan, every shiver, every whispered confession. And you weren’t done with him yet. You loved the dynamic between Oscar and you. How one day Oscar could be the dominant one, but could switch to being completely at your mercy the other moment.

Your lips curved into a smile, savoring the power of his plea as you moved your hand slowly across his chest, teasing him further. "You've got to be more specific, Osc" Your lips pressed softly against the spot just below his jaw. “Tell me where you want me to touch you"

Oscar hesitated, his hands instinctively moving to guide yours lower, but you pulled away just enough to stop him. “Nuh-uh,” you tsked softly, a playful smirk on your lips. “I need you to tell me. Use your words.”

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his hand dropping back onto the bed in defeat. He tried to stifle a whimper, but you could feel the need pulsing through him. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his torso, ghosting over the fabric of his shirt and sending sparks of sensation through his body. You paused just above his waistband, feeling the tension radiating from him, but deliberately avoided the spot you knew he was craving.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked, letting your fingers trail along his hip before moving back up to his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips.

You chuckled softly, your lips trailing to his ear as you whispered, “Or here?” Your hand moved to his chest, fingertips tracing circles around his nipples. Oscar bit his lip, his breath catching in his throat as his hips shifted beneath you, desperate for more. But you stayed teasing, your hand wandering, purposefully avoiding where he needed you the most.

"Tell me," you murmured again, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Oscar whimpered, his voice strained and breathless. “I want… I want you to touch me,” he stammered, the words faltering as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say them fully. There was a part of him still clinging to the last shred of control, though deep down, he knew how much he craved letting go. The truth was, he loved this—loved you taking charge, more than he ever dared to admit. His body betrayed him, responding so eagerly to your dominance.

His eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as you continued your slow, deliberate torment. Every brush of your lips, every whisper of your touch, sent a fresh wave of electricity through him. He gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, his body trembling under the weight of his need. The intensity of his desire threatened to overwhelm him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more, savoring the sweet torture of your control.

You smiled against his skin, your lips brushing his jawline as you murmured, “Touch you where, Osc? Tell me exactly where you need me.”

He groaned in frustration, his body writhing beneath yours, aching for release. “Touch me… there. Please,” he whispered, his voice so raw it sent a surge of heat through you. “I need to feel your hands around my dick.”

A low hum of satisfaction left your throat as you finally let your fingers slip lower, teasing the waistband of his joggers, the heat radiating from his body pulling you in closer. “Good boy,” you purred softly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin as your lips trailed along the curve of his neck, planting a lingering kiss that sent shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his whole body tensed beneath you, hips instinctively jerking upward, desperate for more contact. The sound of your praise hung in the air between you, its effect unmistakable. He let out a soft, strangled groan, the sound thick with need, as if those two simple words had unlocked something deep inside him. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted in a breathless moan, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, rapid breaths.

You could feel him twitch beneath your touch, the heat and anticipation rolling off him in waves. The mere sound of your voice calling him a 'good boy' had clearly struck a chord, one he was too overwhelmed to put into words but too aroused to hide. A thin bead of precome slicked against your fingers as you brushed over him, his body betraying just how much he enjoyed the praise—more than he would ever dare to admit aloud.

His hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the sheets beneath him as he squirmed under your touch. “Fuck…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. His reaction was so visceral, so raw, that you could feel how much control he was fighting to keep, how much he craved your touch

Your hand stayed teasingly light, fingers barely grazing him as you moved lower, your touch enough to make him throb beneath you, every sensation amplified by the tension in his body. You smiled against his neck, savoring how easily you could make him come undone with nothing but your touch and your words.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his ear. His answer came in the form of another groan, his hips bucking once again, leaking more in response to your gentle touch, his desperation growing with every passing second.

The flush on his skin deepened, the way his body reacted betraying the depth of his desire. You could feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his breathing hitched each time your fingers brushed over him, how his whole body seemed to lean into every touch, silently begging for more.

“I bet you love hearing that,” you murmured, fingers curling just enough to give him a hint of pressure, your words laced with amusement and seduction. “Admit it, Oscar. You like being called a good boy, don’t you?”

He let out a shaky breath, his body jolting at the words, unable to hold back any longer. “Y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice strained and trembling, so close to unraveling completely under the weight of his need. He pressed his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through him, his body a live wire of sensitivity.

“Good boy,” you repeated, the words rolling off your tongue like honey as your hand moved just a little firmer, eliciting a strangled moan from Oscar that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. The way he responded to you was intoxicating, his body fully under your control as he writhed beneath you, craving every touch, every whisper, every teasing word.

He couldn’t help it—he twitched again in your hand, the dampness of his arousal slick against your fingers as he leaked more precome, his desperation making it clear just how much he wanted to give in. The pleasure was almost too much for him to handle, his body caught in that sweet spot between torture and ecstasy.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Your lips found his neck again, trailing soft kisses along his skin, whispering between each one, “See? No random girl could ever make you feel like this… right, Osc?”

He whimpered in response, his breathing ragged as he squirmed beneath you. “No… only you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as if he needed something to anchor him in the storm of sensation you were unleashing on him.

You smiled, savoring his surrender, your fingers stroking him slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sound he made. His body trembled beneath you, each moan and whimper fueling your teasing touches as you kissed along his jawline, down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.

“Are you thinking about that girl you have to fake date now? Thinking about if she's pretty, if she could make you feel like this too?” you teased softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your hand tightened just slightly around him. 

Oscar shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… never. Just you.”

You kissed him deeply then, your tongue slipping past his lips, slow and sensual, tasting the desperation in his breath. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing, the pulse of his need pounding through him as your hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine, Osc,” you whispered against his lips, your hand quickening its pace ever so slightly. “No matter who you have to pretend with, it’s me who makes you feel this good, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, his voice barely coherent as he bucked against your hand, his body trembling with anticipation. “Only you… please…”

You grinned, knowing how close he was, and kissed him once more, slowly, deeply, savoring every moment of his unraveling. "That’s right. I’m the one that makes you feel like this. No one else.”

Oscar’s moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath your touch as you finally gave him what he’d been begging for, his breaths coming in short gasps as he lost himself completely in you. Every groan, every whimper, every desperate plea filled the air between you, his pleasure so intense it left him barely able to form words.

As you kissed along his neck again, you took his hands in yours and moved them from your back down to cup your ass, squeezing lightly.

His response was nothing but a breathless whimper as he gripped you tighter, his body arching into yours, completely at your mercy.

The teasing, the slow build-up, and your seductive whispers had him lost, spiraling into ecstasy. You could feel him slipping away, utterly consumed by the intensity of what you were doing to him, and you smiled against his skin, knowing that only you could bring him to this point.

Oscar’s moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body shaking as he gave in, letting you take him to the edge of oblivion. And as he finally reached that peak, his voice cracked, your name falling from his lips in a broken, breathless moan.

You smiled, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered one last time, “That’s right, Oscar. You're mine"

It took Oscar a moment to slip back into reality before he sat up on the bed, his chest still heaving from the high they had just shared. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed in one swift, effortless motion, holding you close to him. You gasped, half-laughing in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a playful smile tugged at your lips.

He kicked open the door to the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently down on the edge of the sink, the cool countertop a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between the two of you. Oscar walked over to the shower, turning the water on with a steady hand, before striding back to you, his presence suddenly more commanding, more assertive.

Standing between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Showing you that you’re mine too,” he whispered, his voice low, seductive, full of intention “You belong to me.”

Before you could respond, Oscar’s lips were on your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers through your body. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it gently as he tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to his assault. He kissed his way down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

“I’m not letting you wait for the water to warm up,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his fingers already tracing the hem of your dress, slipping underneath to brush against your skin. He gripped the fabric, pulling it up with one swift motion before tossing it carelessly to the floor, his eyes devouring you, the hunger in them unmistakable.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing you at first, drawing out the anticipation. He could feel how sensitive you were, how ready. You let out a soft moan as he pressed his lips against your jaw, trailing kisses down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers found their way inside you, moving slowly, torturously, making you squirm beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. “No one else can touch you like this. Only me.” His fingers curled inside you just right, hitting all the right spots, and you let out a breathless whimper in response, your body arching into him. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice commanding but still gentle. “Tell me you’re mine.”

His smirk grew as you struggled to hold back, his fingers now moving with more purpose, each touch a mix of pleasure and dominance. 

"I-I'm yours" you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence "F-Fuck, this feels so good"

He smirked, pleased with your reaction, his thumb brushing over you in just the right way, coaxing even more desperate sounds from your lips. "That's it... let me hear you," he murmured, his voice commanding but still gentle, coaxing out every bit of pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, he scooped you up in his arms again, carrying you toward the shower. The water had begun to steam up the glass as he pressed your back against the cool tiles, the heat from the shower blending with the heat from his body. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep, passionate, filled with need. The water poured over both of you, soaking your skin as Oscar's hands roamed your body, his fingers tangling in your hair, his palms gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of you.

Without breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down your sides as the water cascaded down your bodies. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips agonizingly slow as they made their way higher, teasing you just as you had done to him before. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he drew closer, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

“You’re my girl,” he said softly, his voice laced with dominance as he looked up at you from his knees. “No one else can have you. Not now, not ever.” Then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, teasing you with the lightest touch. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue worked slow, deliberate circles, driving you mad with desire.

His hands roamed your body as he continued his slow torment, one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer to him. He was everywhere at once, his touch all-consuming, his tongue alternating between soft strokes and firmer pressure, teasing you, driving you to the edge.

Oscar’s fingers joined his tongue, sliding into you in perfect sync with the rhythm he set, the slow, torturous pace making you tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers was designed to push you higher, the tension in your body building with each passing second.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he whispered between strokes, his breath hot against you, and when you couldn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” His tongue circled again, his fingers curling just right, and your body responded, arching into him, your grip on his hair tightening as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

He continued to work you over, switching between his tongue and fingers, his touches slow, purposeful, drawing out every sound, every moan. His hands never stopped exploring, roaming your body, massaging your thighs, your hips, your breasts, every inch of you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally reached your peak, it was as if the world around you disappeared. You shattered against him, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, and Oscar didn’t stop, carrying you through it, his tongue and fingers still working you until the very last tremor left your body.

“That's it, baby” he whispered softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness as he kissed his way back up your body, pulling you close as the water continued to soak you both.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor

[luveline]

I know stripper!reader has this thing going on with Spencer but I keep thinking about something with her and Aaron maybe perhaps please 👀

thank you for requesting! fem

"Hi, Agent Hotchner." 

Aaron wondered if you were going to talk to him. "Miss L/N." He looks you over casually, taking in the scabbed state of your knees and your immaculate make up. "What are you doing here?" 

"Waiting for Spencer. I was in the neighbourhood." 

People aren't often in Quantico on pleasure trips. It doesn't take much for Aaron to peel back your mask. It's a good mask, but he's good at his work. Your strip lashes are lifting in the corners, the adhesive weak with wetness, and though you've taken care to reapply, there's a clear difference between the concealer on your cheeks where tears would've fallen. You keep touching your stomach, like you've a bruise that's bothering you under your clothes, or perhaps as a reassuring stim. 

"Are you okay?" he asks gently. 

"Would you ask me that if I were one of Spencer's other friends?" 

"No." There's no point skirting around it. You're a stripper, a job notorious for hurting the wellbeing of the people who undertake it. "But I'm asking because you've been crying." 

You turn your face down and sniff with a smile. "I almost forgot about you, you're the aloof one… Spencer pretends he doesn't notice when I want him to." 

"I'm not a good pretender. Sorry." 

"That's okay, handsome." You speak softly, but it isn't shyness, only a sweet disposition.

Aaron isn't sure what to do, and so, in want of no better path, he treats you as a friend. You're a friend of Spencer's and Spencer is practically family to Aaron, and so your wellbeing is important for that alone.

Aaron would comfort you even if you weren't. 

"What happened to your knees?" 

You cross your feet at the ankles. "I slipped on ice outside my apartment. Few days ago. What happened to your eye?" 

He has a small cut from a kerfuffle under his eye, so small he forgot it was there. "Work." 

"It looks sore. Like it's being tugged on." You turn to your handbag and shuffle through the contents before pulling out a small red and white pot. "Here, it's scar balm." 

"Oh, I wouldn't–" 

"You can keep it. I have three." 

He imagines your need for something like that is similar to his own line of work. He takes it, not because it feels right to take things from you, but because he knows the worth of letting someone help you. 

He doesn't put it on, though, just holds it in his palm. 

"How'd it happen?" you ask. 

"I wasn't paying attention. It was unlike me." 

"I can see that," you say, offering him a timid smile. 

Aaron frowns. "I think Spencer's playing chess against himself again, he could be a while. Do you want me to go get him?" 

"Oh, no," you say, getting to your feet. "I'm already an imposition for him as it is, I just wanted to walk to the subway with him." 

His lips part before he speaks, unsure of how to ask, "You're not–" 

You stop him before he can ask. "Spencer is the nicest, kindest man I know, and we're friends. But no, we're not." 

"It's getting dark. I'll drive you home." He gauges the hesitance on your face. "Just to drive you home, honey. I promise." 

It kind of breaks his heart that he has to clarify that to you. He wonders how often people have framed taking from you as helping. The 'honey' practically adds itself, as though his lips have a mind of their own, eager to put you at ease. 

"Would that be okay?" you ask.  

"Of course. Do you have your phone? You can tell Spencer I'm taking you home." When you hesitate again, he takes his phone from his pocket and offers it to you, Spencer's contact fourth on Aaron's speed dial. 

The smile you give him then, like you're sure he's a good guy, steals his breath away. 

"Hi, Spencer, it's me. Yeah, I'm okay. I bumped into Agent Hotchner outside and he's going to give me a ride, okay?" You peek at Aaron from the corner of your eye. He pretends not to notice. "Stop trying to embarrass me. Yeah, I know I said that. He is," —your voice drops to a murmur, a whisper, almost inaudible— "you wouldn't get it, he's like your brother."

Aaron can guess what it is Spencer doesn't get, and he, in his many years, has to concentrate hard on not flustering. 

[transvampireboyfriend]

@steddie-week day 3: discover + first kiss

"There you are!" Eddie says, like he's been looking for him everywhere, his face even lighting up as he enters the kitchen.

"Here I am." Steve shoots back.

Steve's sure that he's wearing a similar expression. He missed him.

After Eddie and Robin graduated, Eddie took a job at a local auto shop while Robin and Steve took jobs at the library and filled out college applications.

During that time the three of them had gotten really close, talking each other through tough times and celebrating what they achieved together.

Steve moved with Robin to start school at the beginning of this year and Eddie stayed with his uncle, still figuring out what he wanted to do with his future.

So, this is the first time they've been apart for months since they met, and Steve did not anticipate how much he would need to see him, to hear him.

The phone doesn't do his voice justice.

Steve puts the dough down to wipe the flour off his hands, but his eyes never leave Eddie as he drops his tote bag on a stool across from Steve.

"Can't believe they left you here with all the work, man" Eddie laments, shaking his head and walking around the kitchen island to where Steve is.

Steve's heart beats oddly fast in his chest as he huffs a small laugh and tries to figure out if a hug is okay in the split second before Eddie pulls him into his arms.

Steve wraps his arms around him and rests his chin on Eddie's shoulder, relieved.

"I don't mind" Steve murmurs, about making the pizza while the kids catch up with Robin and Nancy in the living room.

Eddie chuckles, softly claps his back and pulls away to grab Steve's shoulders instead

"Of course you don't" he says, with mirth in his eyes "How are you, Stevie?" he asks, his head tilting to the side and his dimples showing.

"Hi" Steve says to those dimples he hadn't seen in so long "I mean- good. I'm good" Steve smiles, genuinely delighted. "How are you? How was the drive?" Steve asks

"Ugh, it was hell!" Eddie slumps a little when he says it, his exhaustion evident "but I'm good!" he assures, "you know what I need?"

Steve shakes his head no "What?"

"To help you make like seven pizzas right now," Eddie answers, squeezing Steve's shoulders before letting go. "Where do you need me?"

That's a question.

It's not like Steve hadn't notice his crush on Eddie before he moved away, but he was kind of ignoring it, or at least trying to for the sake of their friendship.

Clicking with someone the way he did with Eddie was rare for him, he didn't wanna risk losing that, especially after so many failed dates; Steve was just kinda over the whole thing.

And Eddie never showed anything more than friendly affection so, really, it was the right thing to do to just, pretend like Eddie's eyes weren't the only thing he could think of when the sun first filtered through his windows.

And he'd thought it would go away in time, and then with so many miles between them.

But here he is again, asking how he can help Steve cook pizza for their friends and Steve kinda wants to cry a bit, because no, of course it wouldn't go away.

If anything it seems distance has made it worse, Steve feels intoxicated by the smell of cigarettes and pine trees.

"Um, there's two in the oven" Steve points out, "and everything's already chopped up, I guess you can help me put the toppings on these next two?" Steve suggests, going back to knead two more bases out of the dough he left on the island countertop.

"Yessir!" Eddie salutes, walking back to rummage in his tote. "I brought brownies for dessert," Eddie offers, bringing out the container "totally safe." he assures.

"I have ice cream too, which I assume im putting there?" Eddie asks, pointing to the refrigerator behind Steve, Steve nods.

Eddie brings out the tub of ice cream and spots something else in his bag "oh and I had olives!" he places an olives jar on the table before walking towards the fridge.

"I thought you didn't like olives" Steve comments

Eddie sticks his head in their freezer and answers "oh, I don't mind them"

Steve fully turns to him with a confused frown "no, i remember you specifically requesting no olives in our pizza for the past, like, year"

Eddie's making space in their freezer, moving things around. He casually says "that's because you don't like them, Stevie" and continues his task like what he just said has no significance at all.

Steve blinks, feels stuck to where he's standing.

Steve had mentioned he doesn't like olives maybe a week after the whole upside down business, when the kids had been at Dustin's and Claudia had offered him salad during dinner, which he politely refused, because it had olives.

Eddie was there, they had all been working on characters for their next campaign and stayed for dinner. Steve had only dropped by to deliver a book Dustin left in his car, and Claudia invited him to stay.

Come to think of it, Eddie had enjoyed that salad just fine.

Steve never mentioned olives again.

And it wouldn't be until a month later that Eddie would first order pizza for them making that specific request.

For Steve.

And it's so silly, it's such a small thing, but all of a sudden a myriad of small things are thrust in Steve's face.

Eddie watching Grease with him, Eddie always knowing how he takes his coffee, Eddie singing along to ABBA in Steve's car, Eddie complimenting the jacket everyone said made him look dorky, Eddie keeping a Tears For Fears tape in his car, Eddie using one of his sick days to help him pack the stuff in his room, Eddie memorizing his schedule and calling him multiple times a week for the past few months exactly when he knew Steve would be home and bored without Robin.

It's like someone lifts a veil off his eyes.

Steve's watched Friday the 13th five times and would watch it again if it was with Eddie, he knows Eddie takes his coffee with a frankly concerning amount of sugar, there's a Black Sabbath record in his room right now!

He's never put in this type of effort with friends before! They either have similar tastes already or Steve doesn't feel the need to match them anyways.

It's different with Eddie, it's like he wants to be connected to him somehow, make sure they're close.

He didn't know Robin liked tea until they moved in together! He knows Eddie categorically refuses to try tea in any form. And actually, his uncle got him thinking about it and he's considering to change that, Eddie told him about it last Thursday while Robin was at band practice.

He's never tried somebody else's music without them asking for it, he's never volunteered to watch a horror movie, he's never worn clothes he thought wouldn't fit his style, he's only ever done that with

"Eddie" he says out loud, it comes out a little breathless but Eddie doesn't seem to notice.

"Hmm?" he acknowledges, finally placing the ice cream in the freezer and Steve catches a glimpse of it as Eddie shuts the freezer door.

He turns to Steve and raises his eyebrows.

"Was that cookies and cream?" Steve asks

"Mhm. Yep" Eddie confirms

"Why'd you buy that one?" Steve wants to know.

Eddie shrugs " 'Cause it's your favorite" he answers, easy.

So easy. Like he didn't even consider any other flavor.

"Why did you buy my favorite ice cream, Eddie?" Steve insists,

Eddie splutters "I- I um, I mean do you not-?" he trails off and looks at Steve's posture, the way he hasn't moved a hair in the last couple of moments must click then. His eyes trail up to meet Steve's again and realization dawns on his face.

"Holy shit, Steve. You didn't know?"

"What?! What do you mean I didn't know? Who knew?!"

"I-! um, everyone? I'm not exactly subt-"

"oh my god!"

Steve can feel the blood warming his face and ears and it seems to spring Eddie back into action.

"I mean! Clearly not everyone knew! You didn't know!" he says walking over to him and running his hands up and down Steve's arms "pfft, practically no one knew!"

"Eddie" Steve wants to laugh but he's afraid he might burst into tears.

"I thought you knew" Eddie says in the smallest voice he's used so far, his hands stilling.

"I'm sorry" Steve says,

"No!" Eddie protests, his hands coming up to grab Steve's face "No, sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry about"

Steve scoffs,

"Of course you didn't know!" Eddie continues "I never told you!" his hands caress Steve's cheeks and Steve thinks his knees might give out.

"So, I'm telling you now" Eddie says, determined. He takes a deep breath.

He looks into Steve's eyes and says "Steve, I am crazy about you. Not a day has gone by since the eighth fucking grade where I haven't thought about you. And since last year, it has been nothing but good things. I promise"

Steve snorts a laugh at that, his hands coming up to hold on to Eddie's wrists as they both shake with soft laughter.

"You have the most beautiful smile i have ever seen in my life" Eddie goes on. "You are the bravest, kindest, most badass person I know, your hair is a fucking miracle and your eyes. god, your eyes. i have tried to find something that even remotely gets close to the color of your eyes and I can't, and I've resigned myself to never finding it because even an exact match would not make me feel the way your eyes do. Because they're very pretty, but it's not about the color. It's just the fact that you're looking at me"

"God, Eddie" Steve sniffles, not sure what to even do with all the happiness inside of him.

Eddie scoffs a soft laugh "Seeing you happy makes me very happy." he explains "So i try to do little things that'll help that happen. That's why I bought your favorite ice cream, Stevie"

Steve smiles at him and rubs circles against his wrists.

Eddie, seemingly unable to stop talking says "it's selfish really, if you think abo-"

"I'm gonna kiss you now" Steve tells him

"Oh, oka-mmph"

Eddie's lips are soft and gentle and Steve has to coax him into being less tentative but once he does, Eddie kisses him insistently, never letting Steve get too far away, like he can't get enough of Steve. It makes Steve's heart flutter in his chest.

When they finally come up for breath Steve tells him "I can't believe you like olives" trailing his hands down his sides.

Eddie laughs, Steve loves that sound.

"I can stop" Eddie reminds him, placing a peck against Steve's smile.

"And I don't like them" he continues "i just don't mind 'em"

Steve hums a disapproving tone but still leans in for another small kiss.

"I only brought them in case anyone wanted them! they were left over I swear" Eddie excuses against his lips. Steve giggles, his hands now on Eddie's waist, toying with his chains.

"You look good today" Steve tells him

"Oh?"

"Smell good too." Steve says, nosing his cheek. Eddie shivers.

"Always do" Steve clarifies, his mouth coming back to kiss Eddie softly as his hands trail up to play with strands of his hair.

"Your hair's so soft" Steve continues "and pretty. You're pretty"

It makes Eddie blush and Steve grins, delighted by what he achieved.

"And you're brave too Eds, and badass, and cool and fun" Steve smiles when Eddie scoffs but once he sobers up he continues "And I think your eyes are prettier than rays of sunshine." Steve tells him "And I think I'd do anything for you" he adds.

Before he can register the way Eddie's looking at him, Steve's being kissed again with an assuredness that makes him sigh.

The only thing that parts them is the oven timer dinging and even then, Steve has to threaten Eddie with no pizza if he doesn't let Steve go.

Steve doesn't think he's ever been happier.

[cloudshuffle]

first meetings. yan!boothill

nobility au

"Howdy!"

The man who doffs his hat at you is tall, even taller still than the professor and some of the guards you've seen around the palace, but lanky. With his dusty boots and hat, your impression of him is somewhat of a wild dog.

You don't know who he is.

You drop into a curtsy. A senator? Another noble who you were introduced to and forgot? You glance at your handmaiden for help, but she just shakes her head very slightly in response.

"Oh, what a polite lil' lady you are." He pauses to sweep his hat off his head and bow low in return. "Say, do you know where I can find the prince round these parts? Or his butler. You know, the weird blue one..."

"Aventurine? I mean, Prince Aventurine?" You have to correct yourself so quickly that you don't have time to laugh at 'weird blue one'. "He's..."

You give him a more careful once over. Surely he can't be a noble, or Jenna would have told you. The stranger has curious red eyes, shark's teeth, and a carefree air that you'd never catch anyone worth their salt in the palace dead with. But if not someone important, why else would he be looking for Aventurine with such confidence?

He seems to also be giving you a similar appraisal, because a different sort of smile graces his lips.

"'s alright if you can't say, missus." He leans in cheekily. "It's not always princes protecting their princesses, eh?"

"Perhaps an introduction might be in order," you reply firmly, refusing to lean away. So he's those types. "I might be able to help you better then."

He barks out a startling laugh and backs off. "And sharp! Always a good quality for a princess to have. My apologies, my lady. I'm Boothill. Jus' a lowly bounty hunter trying to locate my employer. See here, I've got a letter from the prince himself."

He bows again, and you follow, albeit reluctantly, and introduce yourself in turn, though you get the feeling he's already figured out who you are.

The letter does indeed have Aventurine's seal on it; down to the weight of the paper and the ink he uses (To whom it may concern, he's scrawled on the front), but Boothill pinches it away before you can inspect it any further. "Legit, ain't it?"

What kind of a name is Boothill? you think privately to yourself. "It is... legitimate, yes."

Boothill blinks innocently at you like he hadn't just tracked mud into the halls, and you relent. "I don't know where the prince is, but I'm sure we could find someone to help you."

"'bout high time." He grins, taking the bite out of his words.

You turn and start walking, and Boothill keeps up with you easily with long, languid strides. "Say, while we're at it, what say we nab something to eat? Been wandering around this ol' place all morning with no breakfast or nothin'."

"You could have stopped any one of the maids or the guards," you tell him levelly. "I'm sure someone could have helped you."

When Boothill doesn't reply, you look up at him. He has a wild grin on his face.

"Funny how I was galivanting round the place and the guards didn't notice me, huh? Ain'tcha curious 'bout me?"

You were, in fact. "I'm afraid I'm not in the habit of asking questions I don't want the answers to," you tell him instead.

Boothill shrugs, but something tells you your answer had pleased him. "Smart girl."

"My lady!"

The voice from behind sounds slightly out of breath and very familiar. Both of you turn to see Sunday, taking big, huffy strides down the hallway toward you.

"Mister Sunday!" You give him a cheerful wave. "We were just looking for you, actually. Boothill was looking for the prince."

"Howdy." Boothill doffs his hat again. "So you're the famed butler round these parts, eh? Lucky I found a lovely lil' lady to help me out."

Sunday gives him a strained smile, before turning to you. "Thank you for assisting our guest, my lady, but I shall handle him from here. Don't you have lessons to attend?"

[throughthetwistedmirror]

Otome Game ~ *Idia Shroud*

Summary: It was Idia's idea to game with you. But when you ask him for help with your otome game, he can't help but notice some similarities between him and your favorite character...

Pairing: Idia Shroud X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1004

Warning: Otome gaming

Masterlist

Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

It was Idia's idea to game with you, although he only asked because you mentioned that you had a new game that you haven't gotten around to playing yet. You were sure he had ulterior motives when he asked you to hang out, but you didn't bring it up with him as you didn't want to scare him off. Instead, you simply grabbed your game and met him at his dorm.

Ortho was more than excited to see you. You always held a special affection to Idia's little brother that didn't go unnoticed by both parties. On more than one occasion when you weren't around, Ortho would beg his brother to finally ask you out. But Idia was far too terrified to approach you with a romantic relationship. So he simply settled for a friendship that he would never ever, ever, EVER take advantage of.

Idia made sure to clean his room before you arrived and you were pleasantly surprised. Whenever you crashed the Board Game Club meetings, Azul would go on and on about how filthy his room was. Still, you didn't point it out to him. You didn't want to make him feel any more self-conscious than he already was.

After exchanging some casual pleasantries, the two of you fell into your gaming. It was calm and relaxing. You found yourself enjoying your time with the dorm leader of Ignihyde more than you anticipated. He was considerate about your own gaming experience and kept his reactions to his game quiet. Every so often you would look up and watch what he was doing, asking questions when you felt it was appropriate. He answered all of your questions with ease and even reciprocated by asking questions about your game. All and all, it was the perfect afternoon with one of your favorite people.

Then you hit a rough patch in your game. Your sigh of frustration alerted Idia, who knew exactly what it meant: you needed help. Now, Idia doesn't like to boast about his exceptional skills when it comes to video games, but surely he could appear like your knight in shining armor and lend you a hand?

"What's wrong?" He softly asks, his gaze still trained on the game he was playing.

"I'm stuck. I don't know which boyfriend to choose." You mumble, flicking through the different options in your otome game.

Idia thought it was a good thing you weren't paying attention to him as his hair flickered pink for a brief moment. He fumbled with his control to pause his game before finally addressing your issue.

"What, what do you mean?"

You showed him the screen of your game console. "So my new game is an otome game. I have seven boys to choose from. I just completed the intro and now I have to pick one, but I don't know who to choose."

He frowned and looked at your options. "Why don't you just pick one that you like and then do the other routes later."

"That's the problem. You can only choose once. If I want to complete the other routes, I have to buy another game. It's a major capitalism scheme, but I thought the game looked fun." You shrug. "Any idea who I should choose?"

"Uh... why don't you tell me about them and then I'll help you decide."

You nod with a smile that makes the tips of his hair turn pink again. "Okay in order here you have: Ryushi, the strict student body president who just needs someone to soften his edges, Ietsuna, the lazy slacker who only cares about you, Amane, the bad boy who likes to tease and torment, Kobo, the golden retriever who is the fan favorite, Michinori, the cultured exchange student who is a little fruity in my opinion, Masanobu, the secret prince of the school who would do anything for you, and Ichibei, the otaku with a heart of gold."

"Wow." He's surprised with how typical the choices are like every other otome game. He would normally say pick the one you're most interested in as they're pretty average, but considering you can only make one choice, you have to be careful. "I guess I'd have to say the choice is up to you."

You give him a pout. "You're really going to make me make such a tough decision all on my own? You're so mean, Idia!"

He panics at your words, not meaning to make you upset with him. "Well I mean it's your game! You should pick the boy you feel is the most special to you! I can't really help you make that decision."

"I suppose you're right..."

"Who do you feel is special?"

You shrug and glance back at your choices. "Well, I first thought about Masanobu because who wouldn't want to be a princess? But I felt he was trying too hard in the prologue to try and gain your favor. So I went through the options again and I'm stuck on two: Amane and Ichibei."

He tried to not let you know how surprised and flustered he was. "Oh?"

You nod. "I mean, I'm so like other girls when I say I love a bad boy, but Ichibei... he seemed so sweet and shy. I couldn't help but be drawn to him. I think he might be my favorite."

Your explanation was not helping the poor boy's rapidly beating heart. Based on your little description about him, Idia couldn't help but see similarities between him and Ichibei. Was this your subtle way of saying he was your favorite too? Was it too much to hope that that was true?

"I think you should go with your favorite."

You beamed at his words and his heart skipped several beats. "I think you're absolutely correct! Thank you Idia!"

"You're welcome." He mumbled and tried to return to his game. But he was distracted. Your words and your choice hit him harder than he anticipated. Perhaps Ortho was right. He should ask you out…

[swiss-mrs]

Can you write a second chance a love with SY. He and reader were exes and tension has built up where he can’t help but kiss you and profess that he still misses you. Thanks!

Second Chances

Captain Syverson x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of Failed (Military) Relationships, Mentions of Fighting/Regretted Words Exchanged, Slight Sexism/Toxic Masculinity/Trad Views, Self-Doubt, Slight Depression, Sy is Able to Lift Reader, Angst with Happy Ending (As Requested)

Reader/Unnamed OC Description: No Physical Descriptions, No Mentions of Race, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Etc., Age is 25+, Sy is 35+, No Use of Y/N, Only You/Your Pronouns, Mentioned as “darling" and "beautiful", otherwise gender neutral.

Life is… fine. Wake up. Go to work. Come back home to your apartment. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. There wasn't really anything to complain about, but there was a notable loss. The only thing is now you're just used to it.

In the beginning, it was always the little things, someone passing with a similar cologne, a specific food brand at the grocery store, a familiar street you no longer pass by as often. Eventually, the watery eyes tamed to a pang in your chest. Now, it's all just numbness. Even with friends, your smile makes appearances again, but the happiness doesn't quite reach your eyes the way it used to. It's been so long, they just stopped mentioning it, but you still notice the occasional pity look.

It's a crazy thing to think about how you've lived more of your life without him than you have with him, but that doesn't lessen the effect.

You'd survived your childhood, your teenage years, and early twenty-something without him. After meeting the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, you'd be foolish not to reciprocate his advances. Though you shortly had your skepticism after finding out his occupation, he was quick to assure you he was no quick trip, and ultimately, you caved.

And he for sure had you, for years in fact. He had you completely believing every one of his ‘I love you's and ‘forever's, yet here you are, missing the way he'd fill up the space in your life.

You'd had a life before him, a decently fulfilling, single life until he showed up and screwed that all up. He wasn't necessarily your first ‘love’, but he was definitely your first ‘true love’. And, now, you were feeling the effects of that loss.

The first thing that hit you after your split with Sy was anger, pure reactivity to how everything ended. How dare he call you ‘too much’. How dare he try to pull the whole ‘you signed up for this’ bullshit. He had the audacity to make every problem your problem. Fuck him for making your ‘forever’ just another failed military love that should've known better.

You were soon to block him, not wanting to hear any of his ‘I'm sorry's or ‘can we talk's. You'd already talked, talked a little too much. You were done. ‘Let it die’ was your mantra for months. He ruined you, had you looking in the mirror different. You couldn't talk to anyone, express yourself, ask for help, be vulnerable without seeing it as annoying, dramatic, ‘too much’. Maybe, it was just you?

You took it upon yourself to change, distance yourself, drift away. Was it just you? No one made a comment about how they suddenly heard from you less. Were you really too much?

For a long while, you wished he'd cheated, abused, something, anything to make you hate him. Could you really hate him for it? You didn't work out. That's not his fault. He didn't understand you, and a couple of rude words weren't nearly enough to hate him. He was ultimately a good guy. He was never unfaithful, never would even dare to think of laying a hand on you, but when it was all said and done, he was a bit neglectful. But, how much of that was him, and how much of it was his job? Oftentimes, it was hard to distinguish. Too often was it an excuse.

Did he love you? sure. Could he have loved more? yes. Too often did it feel like he was one-sided. You were there for him, not the other way around. You are his, not the other way around. You needed him, not the other way around. And to have that shoved back in your face when you brought it up was not the right reaction. He shouldn't feel like an animal cornered when you brought up a concern, something he did that hurt you, but he did. A valid point shouldn't be shot down or argued with counterpoint, but it was. Now, you can only second guess yourself, and that shouldn't be how it is, but it is.

You loved too hard, that will haunt you. He loved too little, and that will forever haunt him.

He hated himself. You were everything he ever prayed for, a beautiful partner with a beautiful smile and a beautiful soul, someone he could have forever. He didn't realize that the thought of ‘having someone’ was wrong of him. He was selfish. You never did anything but show him your heart, your mind, and he blew it up in your face. He destroyed something, someone so beautiful. A day hasn't passed that he wasn't filled with regret. He couldn't even smile or laugh anymore. He became scary.

He'd lost the one piece of true happiness in his life, and it was his fault.

He craved you. He needed you, but he was too late. Why couldn't he have realized what he had sooner? Appreciate you like you deserve. Love you like you deserve. He knows he has it in him, but he just couldn't. fucking. see. it. He wants to kick his own ass for it. He desperately wants to turn back time, go back with the mindset he has now, or at least beat it into his past self.

He'd gotten too damn comfortable being in the military. Vulnerability is weakness. Why would he use his words? Why think about anything, decode? Feelings are best buried. He's a man's-man, and a man only needs to protect and provide

He believed that ideology never gave him issues until you. You challenged that ideal. You asked him for his thoughts, his feelings. You wanted to know. You cared. It annoyed him. Why the fuck would he care? Sure he had thoughts and feelings somewhere, but he pushed them down. Why bring them back up? You surely had too much time on your hands to be concerned with what he was thinking. You wanted connection. He knows that now, but what is that going to do for him now?

He immediately felt the effects of your absence. He was deployed when you left your shared home. He watched you leave on the security camera, car packed to the brim. Sure, he had felt a type of way about it then, but then he was only apologizing for the sake of it. He was just another man in the wrong. Apologize to your upset partner, make up, and move on, but oh, was it so much more different now.

He was filed to the brim with remorse. Even then, he had visions of your shared future, retiring or climbing ranks to settle in one place, building a family, a home, preferably on a large, secluded plot of land. How he looks on with different eyes at that ‘future’ now. He never truly believed in all that ‘grass is greener’ ‘know what you have ‘til it's gone’ B.S. until he'd lost you. He gets it now.

It wasn't until that switch was flipped for him to realize you blocked him, excommunicated. He was gone so much that he never got a chance to build any sort of relationship with your friends. It irritates him now that he is probably known as just the shitty military ex. The closest thing he has to you is a friend of a friend of his who is a friend of a friend of yours. At first, he'd rather die than try to reach out to you that way, but now, there was no line, no bridge he wouldn't cross to just get one more moment with you.

He'd been stewing on it for the last year and a half. You'd moved and blocked him. It seemed utterly hopeless to reconnect, but something came up recently that has him itching again.

He's been promoted. A good job, good position, and in one place. It was perfect. The start of your ‘forever’ together. The only thing missing is you. Friend of a friend² be damned. He had to fix this, and just his luck to find you. Just your luck to be found.

It took several minutes for you to lay eyes on him, but he spotted you immediately. The second you walked through the door of your new favorite café, he saw you. He couldn't believe it. He originally pulled himself into this place because it simply reminded him of you. It had you written all over it. He felt closer to you here. He wouldn't have guessed you would just walk in like this. His eyes followed you as you stood in line and ordered.

He noticed you glance around the café briefly and still not spot him seated at a back table facing the exit. His heart raced, seeing your eyes wander before going to your phone. He knew that look, though. You were only fidgeting with it, trying to make yourself look busy to avoid any social awkwardness. It made him grin as he stared longingly. There were some things that didn't change.

It had been a whole two years since you last saw Sy, about eight months since you stopped seeing him in every stranger. You weren't going to back track now, so you stared down blankly at your phone to keep yourself from staring at the familiar looking guy in the corner. He was missing a thick beard and a shaved head, but with a quick glance, he looked an awful lot like heartbreak.

Sy knew he was on borrowed time, the chances of you sitting alone in any kind of restaurant was slim to none, and considering you weren't looking for seating meant you were grabbing and going. He had to think of something and fast.

His body was standing, and his feet were moving before his mind could catch up. It wasn't until he was about two feet away that he stopped and started panicking. You noticed the man standing in your peripheral, but you kept your head down to avoid any awkward eye contact. That was until your name fell from his lips, causing you to look up from your phone.

“Sy?” Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed together. Your heart immediately started blasting in your ears. You couldn't breathe. You'd thought about running into him again, about all you wanted to say to him, telling him off? apologizing? But that was before your move, before you forced him out of your mind. Now, you were face to face with your anxiety and dreaded nightmare. Your name was muffled from his mouth and to your ears the second time.

“Hi. How have you been?” He wanted to punch himself in the face for how casual that came out, but he quite honestly couldn't think of anything better to say without falling over his own words. He awaited a response from you, but you only stared like a deer in headlights.

You genuinely couldn't hear a word coming out of his mouth. Was he talking? He had to have been. His mouth was moving, but it was like his voice was muffled. Something you assume was your name came out again before your name was called a bit louder by a different voice behind you.

You whip your head around to find a perky barista with a drink in hand, looking in your direction. You scurry over to her and take your drink with a curt thank you, as polite as you can muster in this moment. Without even a second glance, you're making a rushed escape for the exit. Your name is called again, but you're tunnel visioned on the door out.

Sy's stomach tightens and drops at the sight of your flee, but again his body is in full control at this point. He's utterly in shock. He didn't know what to expect, but this was his chance. All he knew is that he couldn't let you leave, not again, so this time, he chased after you.

As soon as you're out the door, he's right behind you, having to catch the door from slamming on him. He calls out for you again, but you don't stop, so he keeps running.

It's once you're passed the café windows that he finally catches up. He reaches to grab for your arm but quickly changes his mind to just step in front of you instead. “Wait! Please, darlin’, wa-”

“Don't call me that.” He's taken aback by the sudden words but retracts nonetheless.

“Please. Wait.” It was at this point that you both have fallen silent that you get a good look at him. His hair has grown out of its ‘tactical buzzcut’ and into a pretty generic cut that was redeemed by the dark curls atop his head. His beard was now trimmed down to only some scruff and a mustache. It was an odd combination of seeing him with more and less hair than usual, but he was just as handsome as ever, unfortunately.

The pause between you both was long. Though it should be awkward, it was also strangely comfortable or rather empty. Being in each other's presence again was like putting on an old hoodie. It was cathartic and familiar, but the memories, the history, was hard to get passed. Your name falls from his lips again, a lot softer and barely there. Your eyes were trained on his face, unable to look away. His were downcast.

“I… I….” His eyes close as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to gain some composure. His bottom lip juts out a bit as his mouth tightens into a little frown. “Please, I need to talk with you.” He opens his eyes, encapsulating your gaze in his.

The sight of his eyes outside of your memory is enough to empty your brain of any thought, so you remain silent. But he needs an answer from you, so he waits.

“What is there to talk about?” You say. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you built walls that weren't there before, and it shakes him to his core. He did that.

“A lot.” He sighs, huffing out a singular humorless laugh through his nose. His face briefly quirks like it wants to give a smile to match the short laugh, but the overwhelming weight of the situation at hand just won't allow for it.

You stare up at him for a few beats of silence, both of your chests tight with anxiety. You've never seen him so close to breaking down. He's never seen you so blank. Neither of you really knows what to do, but eventually, your eyes fall from his face before you walk passed him.

Sy freezes. The world around him simultaneously crumbles and halts. His breathing completely stills. You don't get five steps away before you turn back and call after him, “You want to talk. I'm not giving you another chance to do so.” You say, expecting him to follow you. As soon as the realization hits, he moves with haste. He's beside you walking before you're even done turning back around.

It was a good two blocks before Sy spoke up. “How have you been?” He tries again, looking over to you as you walk.

“Fine.” You answer curtly. It makes Sy frown again. It's the kind of ‘fine’ you'd give a stranger, and he hates that that's what you've become. He feels a bit shut down but continues. This is his chance.

“Well, that's, um, good to hear.” He states, but the end of the sentence inflicts an upward tone, almost into a question.

“I wasn't for a long time, but now, I'm fine.” You add, and it's the hardest punch in the gut Sy has ever received. His jaw clenched as he nodded. He swallows, trying to carefully choose his words, knowing how much each one counts.

“Darlin-” He cuts himself off by correcting it to your name. He sighs again, “Please, genuinely hear me when I express how sorry I am.”

“I'm sure you are.” He glosses over your response, continuing.

“Look, I know I've said it before, but, in all honesty, I didn't-” He cuts himself off again, making sure he words it correctly.

“Didn't mean it?” You finished, a bit annoyed.

“No.” He's quick to correct, “I meant it.” He says, determined, “I knew that I had made you upset, and I knew to apologize for it, but I didn't really know the meaning behind it.” He admits. “I didn't understand.” He confirms what you already know. “I was foolish. Stuck in an old way.” He pauses with another frown. “I didn't understand why you wanted to dig into me. I didn't understand that you were only trying to connect with me, really connect. I got defensive. ” He looks up from the ground to your eyes with a sad, guilty look, like he's confessing. “I was stupid and didn't believe in sharing every part of me with you.” He slows his pace, forcing you to match until you're stopped in front of him.

You're facing each other as he continues with his confession. “I thought doing so would make me less of a man, but I understand now.” He gives you a quick, little, sad smile before it disappears into a guilty frown. “I understand that it was an integral part of strengthening our bond, our love. You'd show me every part of you in return for me doing the same, and we'd accept each other, every part.” He gives another sad smile that breaks your heart all over again. He looks down shamefully with a hard look on his face, “I understand now.”

You look at him with a sad pout. Half of you wants to give him a piece of your mind. Two years!? It took all that time to just now fucking realize what you were asking of him!? But the other half didn't know how to feel. What is he trying to do? Redeem himself? What.

“So that's it? You just wanted to give me an actual apology?” He can see that your walls are still up. He fixes his jaw.

“Yes, but,” He starts. He knew that you weren't going to just fall into his arms, but he still hoped it would be that easy to just pick up where you left off. He sighs with his eyes closed, this time shakily, nervous. It confuses you as you've never seen the Captain Syverson nervous. “I've been…” He stops short, pausing. Jesus, you never thought you'd see the day this immovable mountain of a man revert to the demeanor of a reprehensible child. “I know we can't pick up where we left off, and I kind of don't want to,” He tries again, this time getting a confused and slightly offended expression from you, “but can we, maybe, start over?” He looks at you with the most hopeful, pitiful puppy eyes you've ever seen, another thing you never thought you'd see from him.

The air forcefully leaves your lungs as all the progress you've made through the years to try and make yourself impenetrable leaves with it. Your chest tightens as you try to will the upcoming tears away. It's your turn to let out a humorless laugh. You shake your head, looking off into the distance, “You really hurt me, Sy.” You look back at him with the most heartbreaking expression. He nearly looks close to tears at the sight. “I'm too much. I'm needy. I expect too much.”

“No, no, no.” He stops you, stepping closer only to get you retreating from him. Your step back drives the heartbreak further into his chest. He shakes his head in utter disagreement, a disgusted grimace on his features. “You're not. You're. not. I was foolish and childish, and I was not ready for you.”

“But you're ready now?” You interject in disbelief.

“Yes,” He states firmly without hesitation. He steps up again. This time, your body visibly tenses, but you don't move away. “I'm more than ready. I need you.” He takes another smaller, gentler step forward. “I hate that it took you leaving for me to see that, but I do.”

“Sy-”

“Please. Please. Don't say it's too late. Don't say we can't try again. Please, just one more chance.” He looks down abruptly like a private who just got caught looking at a superior officer. He's begging. He knows how he hurt you and your trust. Like a dog showing its belly, he's trying to show you his submission. Ultimately, it's in your hands, but he's determined.

You stare at him while trying to decipher the mess in your mind. “Sy.” You say a bit more calmly. His demeanor doesn't change. You sigh, “How do I know you wouldn't just fall back into old habits? What if, even after all this, you just repeat the same closed book bullshit? What's different?” You try to find his eyes, but they remain downcast as he stays still.

“I've been promoted.” He states a bit detached, purely stating fact, anything you want from him. “I'd no longer be in the field, no longer deployed. I'd be in one place.” He purses his lips into another right frown. “It's the start of what we used to talk about.” He says, words laced with hope and nostalgia. “Remember?” He tests, voice as soft as silk. Your eyes sadden even more, looking down with a miniscule nod. “I can settle down. Stop putting myself in the line of fire every day. I'd come home to you every night, wake up with you every mornin’.” His eyes soften as they peer up at you through his dark eyelashes. “Get that dream house.” He raises his brows with soft eyes and a sigh of a grin.

“Sy.” He quickly follows with your name before you continue. The gentle way your name rolls off his tongue makes your heart race at a concerning rate. “I,” you sigh, “I can't just run back to you after all this time.” You scoff out a sad laugh.

“So, let's just start with a date.” He tries again softly, melting your heart in your chest. “No pressure, no expectations, just one do-over.” His eyes flutter softly as his eyes return to their submissive downcast. “A reintroduction to the people we've become. A second first date.” He concludes. You can't help but let out a soft giggle despite trying to hold yourself together. Though it's sad, Sy has never heard a more beautiful sound. His chest swells with hope.

It takes time for you to make up your mind, and he gives it to you. Your everything was already screaming at you to say yes, but you couldn't let him know that, so you took your time. “Okay.” You cave. Sy's brows shoot up, and his face breaks out into a huge, mouth agape smile. The image of pure, overjoyed surprise.

He can't help himself but close the distance between you and scoop you in his arms, twirling you around, with a victorious laugh. The shock of it all and contagious joy causes you to let out a small giggle. He looks up at you in his arms and drops you down enough to plant a kiss on your lips. Though quick, the kiss was filled with nothing but longing and love.

As if realizing what's happened, he's quick to gently set you back down and take a step back, returning to the same distance you were at prior. He is a bit awkward with his hands before setting them on his hips. He still has a bright smile on his face, “I,” he huffs, “You have no idea how you've just made me the happiest man to ever exist.” He tries to just quickly move passed what just happened. “So, could I, maybe, get your number?” He says, trying his best to contain his joy.

You laugh, admittedly a little awkward. “It's the same one.” You fidget, “I can, uh, I'll unblock you, as long as you have the same number as well, I mean.” You stumble. He nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, it's the same one.” He sighs, content. His eyes are filled with admiration and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars single handedly. It was everything you ever wanted from him to see his love within him.

You quickly pull your phone out and unblock his number on the spot. “There.” You shoot him a quick text. Even after all this time, his tagname never changed in your phone. You hear his phone ding moments later, and he pulls it out with an even brighter smile and a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd see your name pop up in his notifications again. Once again, it's always the little things that are missed.

“Are you free this weekend? Friday night, maybe?” He asks. You give him a small smile and a nod. “Great! Great, I'll- I'll pick you up? We can get dinner after work and…start over.” He sighs. He's both a little sad and over the moon. He wants nothing more than to do a quick catch-up and just start pouring his love into you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. You give another small smile.

“I can't wait.” You say. He nods curtly. “You can tell me all about your new job.” His face brightens at you, showing interest in him again. He steps forward to stand beside you, holding out his elbow.

“Let me walk you to your car.” You breathe out a small chuckle before hooking your hand in his elbow, taking back to the café parking lot. Just a few paces in, Sy leans in closer to you to whisper in a low tone, “I know we're going to go slow, but I just want to say… I missed you.” You look into his deep blue eyes before looking down at his mustached lips.

“I've missed you too.” You whisper back with a small smile.

The remainder of the work week, Sy was notably different, even getting some teasing comments from coworkers. Your friends tried tearing into you, asking why you suddenly looked like the life returned in you, but you kept your lips sealed. You were taking things one step at a time with Sy.

The most anyone got was “I have a date.”

____

I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for the request, Anon! I hope I did it justice. (sorry it took so long. I've been a bit under the weather😅)

Masterlist

Swisslist (General Taglist): @rosecentury @solacedthistest

[bigboysfalldeep]

photogenic - when cops go under

For over a year now, I've been running a photography business in a small town, but nobody knew it was just a cover-up for my mischievous games.

I've always been into hypnosis, especially when it meant bringing big guys under my control. I discovered that, under the right circumstances, anyone can fall victim to hypnosis. For me, I stumbled across a very interesting combination.

I was doing my research when I came across the use of light, smell, and sound to make someone a willful puppet, a mere plaything. A single light, scent, or sound alone won't be enough for most men to go under, but the correct mixture of all of them is pure blissful ecstacy.

I prepared my entire studio to fulfill my deepest wishes, and the whole setup was perfect. I had multiple ring lights, reflectors, strobe lights, and softboxes, all of them placed in a way to cover the entire stage in a warm, engulfing light. I made sure to let them flicker just barely, unseen for most unknowing eyes. It will exhaust the victim's mind and eyes, just what I need.

Of course, I created my own playlist of songs, mostly with ordinary background sounds, similar to elevator music, but I hid messages deep within the rhythm to subconsciously invade any unsuspecting minds.

To complete the setup, I placed a few candles here and there; I made them myself, using special ingredients that, when burned, act as some sort of aphrodisiac. A horny mind is a willing mind, and especially men are easily subjected to that method.

Just perfect, and the studio was operating for months without anyone suspecting a thing. Of course, I didn't just take control over anyone—just the beautiful ones, the ones that made me cry just by looking at them.

One day, however, I couldn't believe my eyes when I got an inquiry from the local sheriff department. They wanted to send an officer to a photoshoot for some sort of promotional material, but I didn't care. I was so excited that I didn't let that opportunity slip away. They just told me his name, Officer Romero. I had seen him around and heard his name. He was indeed a handsome man.

I prepared the entire studio and made sure everything was working perfectly fine when the doorbell rang. My heart was already racing so fast, and I could barely breathe steadily. I took several deep breaths before I opened the door. It got even worse when I looked into the cop's beautiful face.

"Officer Romero." I said I was reaching for his hand. "Right on time." He smiled and shook my hand.

"Of course." The officer said it in a deep, manly voice, which sent shivers down my spine. He looked so good in his uniform as well—so tight and thick, just the way I like them.

"Why don't you come in?" I motioned for him to enter my studio, which he did without hesitation. Getting a good look at his arse filling his pants, I quietly locked the door before following him closely.

"That's a nice studio." He growled deeply, taking a look around the main room. The music was already playing softly in the background, and even I smelled the faint scent of herbs hovering in the air all around us, but he didn't seem to mind it.

"Thank you." I nodded politely. "I hope I'm not disrupting your shift, officer."

He caught me staring at his uniform again, but he just let out a soft chuckle. "No, no. It's my day off, actually." He said, and his voice sounded so smooth, making my dick hard.

I just noticed he was carrying a bag right then. "I'm hitting the gym right after this shoot; I brought my gym gear too." The officer smiled contently, causing me to mirror him right away.

"Sounds good to me." I tilted my head and told him to put the bag to the side and to step onto the little stage I had prepared for him. I enjoyed watching him walk around in his uniform, as he was looking so fucking hot.

He got in position, struck a pose, and waited for me to take the first pictures. I saw him running both of his hands across his chest and waist, straightening his unfiorm shirt, and subconsciously checking if his pants were sitting okay.

At the same time, he kept touching his nose, running a hand through his light stubble, his hair, and down his neck. Was he nervous? Or was my setup already showing some effect on him?

"Are you ready?" I said as I turned on all the lights at the same time.

"Ugh." He groaned under his breath, slightly flinching at the barrage of light hitting his face. "I think so." Officer Romero's deep voice filled the room, causing my dick to pulsate softly.

"I hope it's not too bright." I knew it was way too much for simple pictures, but most people don't want to bother a professional.

"No, it's fine." The cop struck a pose again and struggled to keep his eyes focused.

I pressed my favorite button, the trigger of my camera. A light even brighter than all those lights around us. Luckily, I wasn't on the receiving end of this.

*Flash*

"Looking good," I said loudly, pressing another button so the lights dim yet start to flicker slightly.

Romero was way more comfortable with that setup, just as I hoped.

"How are you feeling, officer?" I hesitated for a moment when I noticed he was struggling to loosen up a little.

"I'm just nervous." He chuckled again with that deep voice. "I am sorry." The cop shrugged, and I saw his face blushing slightly.

"That's all good. It happens to the best of us." I nodded comfortingly. "Just breathe deeply; try to relax."

Right away, he did as I told him, taking one deep breath after another, taking in more and more of that alluring smell filling the air.

After a few more seconds, I noticed a steady shift in his posture. The more breaths he took, the more comfortable he became.

"Very good. Just keep breathing, but don't forget to smile." I chuckled as well, preparing to take yet another picture.

*Flash*

"That one was good." I licked my lips in anticipation; I knew that my setup was working perfectly fine.

Officer Romero was becoming more comfortable, kept breathing deeply, and looked right into the warm light.

"This feels good." He purred happily, stroking his own chest again before grabbing his own member through his pants. I could tell he wasn't paying attention to this; it was purely instinctive.

"Doesn't it?" I said I watched him stroking himself once, then twice, before striking another pose.

"Am I doing good?" He chuckled when I pulled the trigger again.

*Flash*

"You're doing so well, Officer. You're a natural." I smiled, enjoying seeing him open up more and more. At one point, he slightly started swaying, unable to take a firm stand—an indicator that he was ready for the next step.

"Can you hear me, Officer?" I watched him through the lens of my camera as his eyes unfocused for a second, his body kept swaying, and he let his hands run all over his upper body, his crotch, waist, and ass.

"Yes." He smiled derpily and tried to regain his composure by holding his hands in front of his chest.

*Flash*

"Good." I said it in a serious tone. "Now listen to me." With the press of a button, all the lights started to turn color, rhythmically to the sound of the music playing in the background.

His eyes widened, and he looked at me, waiting for any further commands.

"I want you to listen to me, breathe, and just breathe. Relax. It's so easy to just let me handle this, okay?" I watched his eyes roll back for a second; he was hooked on my voice already.

Officer Romero opened his mouth, but a single deep moan was the only thing escaping his lips at this point.

"Just look at these beautiful lights, how they spin around, all those colors." His eyes were unfocused again.

"Listen to my voice and the music and forget about your own thoughts. You don't need them right now."

The cop moaned again, touching his now visibly tenting cock through his tight pants.

"Take in more of that delicious scent; it will help you relax and be mine."

I watched him take several deep breaths, and a low guttural moan left his lips before he just smiled.

*Flash*

I was already leaking while watching him through the camera, but I needed to see if it worked.

So I turned off the lights and saw him standing there, swaying slightly, while he wasn't looking at anything in particular.

I approached him, reached for his muscular chest, and placed a hand on his badge.

"Can you hear me, Officer?" I whispered, and his posture shifted again. His body was reacting to the sound of my voice, twitching once he heard it.

"Yess." He moaned again.

"Very good boy." I stroked his firm chest again and again, causing him to smile contently. "You're a big boy, aren't you?" I chuckled, but he just growled in response.

"I want you to listen to me, Officer Romero." I pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand around his thick neck, the other stroking his chest and tummy through his soft clothes.

"I want you to be mine, my personal cop." I breathed into his ear. "You want it too, don't you?" The officer groaned in agreement, giving in to my embrace.

He was so heavy, so thick, and so beautiful.

"Very good. Now stand tall." Separating myself from him, I watched him regain his composure. He immediately struck that usual pose: arms behind his back, chin up, and a straight chest.

His handsome face was blank, his eyes unfocused and foggy, yet still so beautiful. The training really showed, and I couldn't help but touch his upper body, his pecs, and his arms firmly. It felt so good to feel his muscles bulge, causing the uniform to become even tighter around his well-formed body.

Biting my lip I grabbed my own tenting cock—oh, how much I wanted to get sucked off by the handsome cop. But first things first.

"Flex for me." I grabbed the camera again and took another picture, this one, for my personal collection. Officer Romero lifted one arm after another, causing his biceps to bulge firmly—fuck, so hot.

*Flash*

I moaned quietly at the sight of this man following all of my orders. Shaking my head in disbelief, I approached him again. "Stop flexing." I motioned for him to lower his arms, and he did.

I walked around him, appreciating his body some more. My hands encompassed his entire body, his broad back, his thick ass, and his thighs—so beefy, so good.

I had to hold back several moans, but I managed to behave myself.

Now standing in front of him again, I caressed his cheek—his skin was so soft—and let my fingers brush through his light beard, across his soft lips, and along his firm jawline.

"I'm so happy it was you." I breathed against his lips before I pulled him into that tight embrace again.

"Listen." I stroked his tummy now, firmly and lovingly. "I want you; I need you to be mine."

Officer Romero moaned into my ear and down my neck, making me leak some more. 

"I want you to focus on me, on my hand." I said as I let my hand run further down his body, right to his member bulging inside his uniform.

I grabbed him firmly, letting the palm of my hand rub against his thick cock.

"Get hard for me, boy, harder than ever before." I whispered into him, causing him to growl deeply.

His breathing intensified slowly, and his entire body tensed more and more. He was truly concentrating every fiber of his body to get hard—a sensational feeling.

As his cock grew harder, pressing against his pants and my hand, I smirked.

"Now, when I tell you to, you will release all that pressure building up inside your body, and with that, you will be mine, and mine alone."

"Yess." Officer Romero started to grind his hips against my hand, anticipating the coming release.

"Now." I breathed deeply, and with that, I felt his cock shooting multiple massive loads of his precious cum right against the palm of my hand. Letting out a long, guttural groan, causing his deep voice to break slightly, he leaned his head back, embracing this moment of pure blissful satisfaction.

More and more shots left the tip of his huge cock until he ran dry. Even then, he kept thrusting again and again. His mind was empty; all he could think of was cumming, letting go, and becoming a mindless, obedient toy.

I myself was breathing quickly, as I felt the same satisfaction as he did. I just came into my pants as well, and it felt so good.

In one swift motion, I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand inside to fondle his member for a little while. He kept purring the more I touched him. His cock was sticky, so hard and thick—I pulled it out of his trousers and took a good look at it—so huge.

"Look at me." I placed a hand around his neck, forcing him to look at me. Officer Romero was struggling to keep a straight face; his eyes were vacant; he was drooling, but that made him even more handsome.

"You did so good, Officer." I licked my lips again while stroking him—all of him—again.

He purred happily and enjoyed my loving touch as well. I started to unbutton his shirt now too, exposing an even tighter shirt underneath. Even though the outline of his abs was visible.

"Listen. Anytime you see the flash of my camera, you will go deeper and back into this state again. Do you understand?" I ran my hand across his tummy, cueing him to growl like a dog.

"Yes." He said it with his usually manly voice, now dull.

"Good. Now. When I tell you to, you will come back to yourself. You won't remember anything that happened while you were under. The conditioning will be the only thing that stays hidden inside your mind. Understood?" I said as I fixed his uniform shirt.

The cop nods in agreement.

"You won't be bothered by your stained clothes; instead, you will be as comfortable as before." Licking my lips, I tucked his thick cock back into his briefs and pants, but it was still incredibly visible that he was so hard.

Officer Romero consciously touches himself once I button up his uniform pants before he regains his composure. "Yes." He growled.

I walked back to my spot, turned the lights back on—the white ones—and watched him through the lens of my camera.

"Welcome back, Officer," I said firmly, and right away, I noticed the shift in his posture again.

His eyes focused, he blinked several times, and he straightened his back. Insticnteviely, he ran a hand across his chest, his tummy, and his crotch, but he didn't seem bothered at all.

"Sorry, did you say something?" A little confused, he tried to look at me through the bright light.

"I think we're done." I said, turning the lights off.

With a soft smile on his lips, he approached me, one hand on his chest and the other on his gun belt.

With every trigger, my camera took a dozen pictures, and I just showed him the first ones—good pictures, enough for their plans.

"Brilliant." The cop spoke back with his manly, deep voice, but I couldn't help but admire his body while he was standing right next to me.

"Good. I will edit them and send them  over."I smiled politely, and he smiled brightly.

"Sounds good to me." He didn't even realize he was touching himself through his slightly wet uniform pants. I love messing with people's minds, especially the hot ones.

Before he left, we exchanged numbers—for business purposes, of course—and he grabbed his gym back.

"See you around." We shook hands.

"Oh, I will make sure of that. I thought.

[coupleoffanfics]

Part 2 of Batfam and batsis y/n headcons

Masterlist

It was a surprise to see y/n at the of the manor one night after her "outburst" that was a couple months ago. Alfred is happy to see her but notices her troubled expression. She greets him and asks if Bruce was here.

Entering the Batcave for the first time in years, it hasn't changed too much from what y/n remembers. The first to notice her walk in is Damian. "Sister, what are you doing here?" It's always so weird hearing him call her that now. He's never called he that until her "outburst".

This gets the attention of Tim and Babs, making them look away from the monitor. Tim is glad to see her again and hopefully, she is here to mend their broken, not completely burnt, bridges. Babs is also glad to see her as they haven't been communicating as much this past week, but concerned as to what brought her here. She has a feeling that y/n wouldn't come here without a reason.

"I need to talk to Bruce." Damian is almost upset that y/n didn't say she came to see him. He doesn't even have to open his mouth as Bruce is right behind her. Bruce makes his presence known which made y/n jolt up a bit.

Turns around to see him suited up just like the others. Not seeing his full face made her more comfortable oddly.

She takes a deep breath before talking, "I want to clarify that I'm talking to Batman and not Bruce Wayne. I have some information and I desperately need your help." Everyone's interest was already peaked before she said anything.

Bruce watches her pointer finger curl around her hair, her eyes shifted away from him, and her shoulders somehow become even more tense. "Jerome is looking for someone, not me, but I'm worried about them. Wait not looking for he's found them and I- ugh, I'm sure you've already done a background check on him. He has a twin brother and he supposedly wants him dead. I'm…"

All their eyes on her were worsening her anxiety. "I'm best friends with him, Jeremiah Valeska." Babs is already putting the pieces together that Xander Wilde was just an alias. She does remember thinking that they look similar, but she's only met y/n's boyfriend a handful of times and never looked that deep into Jerome's relatives. There wasn't any need to look at his family as long as they aren't committing illegal acts with him.

"Jerome, he did something to Jeremiah. There was this gas and it messed him up. He…" y/n was trying not to get too emotional from talking about a topic that was sensitive to her. "He's not right in the head anymore. It's almost like he's turning into Jerome. He's losing control, he knew a week ago that something is wrong but now he's saying…"

Their eyes and her various feelings on the matter were making her feel that this was a dead end. It's been nearly three months and things have been getting progressively worse. As she looks at Bruce and all she expects is to be rejected. To tell her that she was overreacting and that time was going to heal whatever this mess was.

y/n looked Bruce in the eyes and for the first desperately begged, "Please. Please help find a cure or something to end Jeremiah's madness. I…" She choked back the urge to say that she loved him. There wasn't a need for that and she'd rather keep them in the dark about her life. "…I don't want to lose my best friend. I know you're busy, but I had try asking. Just tell me now if you'd be able to help in any way possible and I'll leave you alone."

This came out of nowhere, but with y/n looking Bruce in the eye with glassy and a scared look in her eyes. How could he say no? "I'll do everything I can, but I'll need a blood sample."

Anything that he said after that went in and out of y/n's ears. She was just relieved that she had the greatest detective help her. "Yeah, um, I can do that." Her voice was softer than a few seconds ago. She wiped the tears of relief with her palm and quickly made her way out of the cave.

Tim wanted to go after her, but Damian was already following behind her and Babs gave him a discouraging look. Babs finally understood why y/n has been so quiet these past weeks. She also knew that y/n needed time to herself and she'd hope that Damian would understand that. She thinks Bruce knew that as well as he stared at the exit for a moment before swiftly going back to work.

Damian kept calling out to his sister before grabbing her wrist. y/n really wanted to shake off his hand and tell him to just leave her alone. Though feeling how firm his grip is she knew it would probably be best to go with whatever to not trigger another meltdown. That was the last thing she ever wanted to see or deal with.

Genuinely though she didn't know why he followed her. It didn't matter if he was trying to repave their relationship, she always expects the worst to come out of his mouth. As a shield, she says what he thinks he'll say. Putting herself down before he or anyone can do it.

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't be down there. It's no place for me and I get in the way. I'm not going to lie and say I'm fully sorry. I am, but I need to try everything to save him, and if that means you'll all have to bear witness to a living failure once more then so be it."

Damian is stuck by her words again and lets go of her as if her skin burns him. He was unsure of how to respond to that, but that wasn't the reason he was there. He tells her with full confidence, "Father will find a cure. Your friend will be okay."

She doesn't look at him. Surprised that he didn't degrade her and slightly smiling that he was comforting her. "Thank you, Damian, that was nice of you to say." Then walks out of the manor just like last time, but this night Damian can fall asleep without regretting eating him alive.

Bruce hires a team of toxicologists. Buys a whole new laboratory for the team. Making sure that there is progress being made while he's not working on it. Tim is the one who spends the most time searching for a cure.

The day after y/n would make her regular trip to the psychiatric hospital with Tim watching from a distance. Tim wasn't stalking y/n he'd claim fully knowing that's exactly what he's doing. He just felt that something was missing and he just wanted to know. He was sick of all her secretiveness. He's given y/n some space after her "outburst" unlike Damian and Dick. So he feels like he could do this because it's not like he forcing her to be around him like the other two.

But regardless the stalking. He was concerned about seeing y/n walk into a mental hospital. It wasn't Arkham, but personally knowing her track record of depressive episodes made him wonder why she was here. Was she admitting herself again?

y/n going through a mental low is difficult no matter how many times Tim sees and helps her through it. She'd stop having this bubbly aura around her. Not being able to get out of bed. There were few times she talked of how hopeless and empty she felt. When she had these episodes they'd never last a few days. They'd always be a week and the worse he's personally seen it last for 2 months. Then the mental image of her dealing with this on her own and coming to the point that she felt the need to admit herself was devastating to him in many ways.

Disguised as part of the staff, Tim followed y/n. Quickly realizing that she wasn't admitting herself, but visiting. He stood by the door of the patient's room that she dispersed in and closed the door. Interestingly Echo walked out of the room at one point and went back.

Seeing y/n standing by the door and about to leave, Tim quickly put some distance between himself and her. Watching y/n, Echo, and a man wearing a hat walk out. Following close behind as they left the hospital and entered the parking garage. He noticed how closely y/n and the man were walking together while Echo walked behind them.

Suddenly Echo came to a halt making the others stop and look at her. Then she ran full force toward Tim and pushed him against the concrete wall. A sharp knife pressed against his throat.

The handful of times Tim has seen Echo he's never seen her exhibit any emotion. There was a sort of underlying anger as she calmly ask who he was and why he following them. He's not able to get his mouth open because y/n runs up panicked while the man walks slowly.

y/n doesn't even need a second to see that it was Tim. Makes Echo let go of him before asking what he was even doing there. There is no good lie that he can come up with on the spot and he knew lying was just going to make y/n more upset than she already was.

"You never talk or are around anymore. You're so secretive now that it makes me worried." Tim would continue if he didn't notice y/n clench her jaw. He would have to be blind to not see y/n trying to keep her cool.

That's when the man placed his gloved hand on her shoulder. Just that simple action alone got rid of any tension in y/n. The man would introduce himself as Jeremiah.

Tim felt uncomfortable by Jeremiah. It could have been the fact that y/n did say his mental sanity has deteriorated, but Tim could just feel something was off with him. His bright green eyes remind Tim of someone. His face also looked to be caked with makeup and the way he talked was unnerving.

The three leave Tim behind. y/n stating that they'll talk about 'this' later. He goes back to the manor even more perplexed by everything.

Later that day y/n drops by the manor. Trying to be discreet as possible because she doesn't want to trigger Damian jumping out. Handing the blood sample to Bruce then turning her attention to Tim.

They have a long drawn-out conversation about what transpired earlier. Explaining why he felt the need to follow her and how he wants her to be open with him.

"— I want us to friends again." That made y/n's heart and mind stop for a moment. Just a moment because she immediately rebuttals. Not trying to mean when saying she doesn't want to be near any of them. That just things change, that they've changed, and they drifted apart. That he had nothing to worry about, but to also never do that again.

y/n spends most of her time with Jeremiah until she has classes and takes a minute to drop by the manor for any updates. Now that y/n is visiting the manor, Damian doesn't surprise her with visits anymore. Since she comes over quite often, daily almost.

He always tries to prolong her time there. He remembers the few things she's interested in. Art and fencing. He'll try almost bribe her to spend more time with him. Mentioning that he's going to an art museum or that he's done with his latest painting. It doesn't get her attention. Talks about how he's got tickets for a fencing match, but that doesn't interest y/n in the slightest.

It's like she's purposefully ignoring him. It's not the case, but that's beside the point. One day when y/n drops by and gets ready to leave, Damian walks up to her with one question. "Can you teach me how to fence?"

Taken aback the question y/n has to take a moment to register it. She sighs, "You're better off getting a professional trainer because I haven't held a saber or epee in a hot minute." She's not even trying to avoid Damian even though he just reminds her how much of a failure she is. She's just being honest.

The boy is becoming visibly frustrated. Panicking and remembering his last tantrum, y/n quickly says that she'll teach him the basics after her classes. Seeing that he was calming down y/n makes a quick escape.

After her last class, she sees Damian waiting right outside of her classroom. Once she's in his peripheral vision he tries to drag her back to the manor and into the newly established fencing room, but she needs to make a quick stop.

Will not let her go alone no matter what. So she kinda has no choice but to bring him along. It's nothing new. She makes a quick call informing someone that she'll have someone with her before jumping into her car. They take a long ride out of Gotham and into the woods. Making Damian wonder where the hell y/n is going.

The second one to meet Jeremiah is Damian. Jeremiah only politely greets him before leaving to talk with y/n in another room. The first impression Damian has of Jeremiah is not a good one. Highly suspicious of him and is not comfortable letting y/n be alone in a room with him. Low-key impressed by the labyrinth that Jeremiah calls his house and likes the interior of the living room. Every classy.

Would have put his ear against the door to hear what they were saying if it wasn't for Echo. She was staring him down. He's pretty sure she hasn't blinked since they got here. Going off what Tim said to the others about Echo possibly being y/n's lover, Damian wonders what y/n sees in Echo.

When they leave and get back into the car Damian brings up Echo. "Your girlfriend should learn how to blink." y/n almost stomped on the breaks. "Girlfriend...? Echo?" She's very confused. "Who else am I talking about." This is when she learns that the whole family thinks she's dating Echo. The idea is funny but also irked her because that was far from the truth. Calmly explains to Damian that isn't the case and that she was simply Jeremiah's bodyguard. Damian can't wait to tell Tim that he was wrong.

Once they get back to the manor y/n teaches Damian about fencing. First going over the rules and the 4 types of fencing before doing anything physical. Surprisingly time flew by. They probably would have been fencing all night if Alfred didn't interrupt them for dinner. y/n planned on leaving, but Damian convinced her to at least stay for dinner because Alfred made her favorite dish and dessert.

This is around the time y/n starts to think that Damian isn't too bad. Out of everyone in the family, Damian is probably the one she'd be the most lenient towards. She's lenient towards the whole family, but Damian is still relatively young. He was able to move on from his horrible childhood, even though that resulted in him lashing out, y/n can forgive that to an extent. Deep down she sees him as her little brother even after their rough patch.

The fact that he isn't breaking into her apartment and trying to connect with her, makes her think that it's safe to be around him. That she isn't going to be verbally reminded that she's one of the most worthless human beings to be alive.

She starts straying a little longer at the manor to mentor Damian a few times. He starts to worry when she easily has the wind knocked out of her and has a cough that doesn't go away. She tells him that it's nothing to worry about. Might lie to him if doesn't give up on the topic by saying she's developed asthma. The lie isn't implausible since anyone can develops asthma at any age and it is hereditary.

It calms Damian down a little. Now he constantly carries an inhaler just in case y/n needs it. She feels so bad lying to him, but she thinks it's for the best that everyone should stay in the dark about her medical condition.

Seeing y/n willingly hang out with Damian gets under Tim's skin. He's given her space unlike Damian, except for that one time but it was only one time. The little gremlin has been harassing her since that one "outburst". He'd want to pull out the 'I knew her longer' card, but he knows how petty it would be. Who she hangs out with isn't his problem and he should mind his own business.

He does mind his own business, but he may occasionally check the cameras to see what y/n and Damian are up to. That's all he swears. Oh, my god, they're going to orchestral concerts and museums together now!? This is so unfair Tim thinks to himself.

They use to be so close.

Honestly, Bruce is thankful for Damian. He's keeping y/n around the manor longer so she can be completely safe from the madness of Gotham. It's also good to know that she's willingly interacting with one of her brothers. It almost warms his heart to see her not be so anxious while in the manor. Just almost because she shouldn't have to feel anxious in the first place. This was the place she once called home, it should make her feel safe not anxious.

Remember the team of toxicologists?

If you don't that's fine. They were killed by the bomb placed in the laboratory, so it's not like they'd be brought up again.

Everyone thinks it's Jerome. The loss of innocent life and y/n suddenly going missing seems like a Jerome thing to do. When they hunt down Jerome, he just kinda shrugs his shoulders while doing a poor job at hiding his smile. Damian wants to scratch his face off or rip his face off depending on the state of it. Dick has to hold back the little monster while Bruce interrogates the ginger.

It goes nowhere until Jerome gets bored of interrogation and tells them, "I'm tired of him thinking that he's better than me. We're quite the same, but I'm the better one. I just had to give him a fresh air of courage to be his true self." Everyone understands what he's say and also groaning that they have to deal with another fucking Valeska.

BONUS

Jerome, Jeremiah, Joker, and Harley being a sort of dysfunctional family is a fun idea. (Inspired by this) Joker and Harley enable the twins' unhealthy love for y/n Wayne.

Harley is more "innocent" in her enabling because she sees nothing wrong with it. The staking, the murder, it's nothing when it's the name of love. (When she leaves Joker for Ivy, she might feel guilty for egging them on. That she played a part in instating y/n into a toxic relationship. Out of anyone, she'd be the one to understand what's it like to be in one. This might motivate her to help keep y/n safe in the future.) Out of the two Harley is rooting for Jerome. He just seems like the lesser evil for y/n.

Joker finds the whole thing funny and pathetic at the same time. The twins are destroying half of the city for a girl, it almost makes him want to roll his eyes. Almost because of the lengths they'll go to. How they're always butting heads and seeing how distraught the girl gets is fun. He can't help but laugh at it. He'll be putting his money on Jeremiah because he sees potential. He's not reckless like Jerome or impatient, Jeremiah is in it for the long haul.

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[moodooivy]

So I was watching Hazbin Hotel when I noticed something. And it made me wonder...

We all know about the copycat scenes between Vox and Alastor. They both claw a table, they both have a "what did you just say?" moment, they're both shown wearing religious clothing and culinary clothing, they both do a face closeup on a screen, and their outfits are even similar. Everyone says Vox is copying Alastor... But notice how Vox did all of these examples first. It makes me wonder who is copying who. None of these similarities seem unintentional. So I'm going to analyze each scene, explain the similarities, why I think they're similar, what this might mean, and whether or not I think they're copying each other.

First two scenes: C L A W and "What did you say?"

These two scenes are what I believe really got people to notice "Hey, Vox and Alastor do a lot of the same things". I can see why. I'm just going to toss these two together since Vox does them right after each other. How is this a similarity? Well, just look at them. In t h e c l a w scene, they both dig their claws into a table because they're angry, and in the other, someone else says something that makes them angry. Something interesting is that both happen more somewhat opposite reasons. Vox digs his claws into a table when Alastor is brought up. Someone that assumably threatens his power. In Vox's eyes, he's already won. Alastor has been gone for years and he's probably one of the most famous sinners in Hell. He won. But Alastor's arrival threatens that victory. So, angie TV. Alastor digs his claws in because he's mad he was defeated by Adam. Before that he was confident he'd beat Adam. When that doesn't happen he's forced to retreat. He lost. So, angie Bambi. When Vox says "What did you say" it's directed to Valentino his business partner or on/off boyfriend, someone he was just talking down to like a child to calm their tantrum btw. It is immediately followed up by mockery from Val who makes fun of Vox's anger, dismissing it even. When Alastor says "What did you say" it's directed to Husk his literal "slave", it's right after said "slave" is talking back to him. Alastor follows it up with putting Husker in his place. Both situations, Alastor is defending his power and authority which is being threatened by someone. Vox is also being threatened, but it's moreso to mock him because there's no real threat towards him. On Reddit, someone pointed out that they're not copying each other. And you know what? That's true here. They can't even see each other to know to do this. Here's my theory for that. We know Vox and Alastor used to be friends. I'm sure there's a lot of behavior Alastor has inherited from being around Vox that he'll refuse to say he got from Vox. Verdict is; No I don't think they're copying each other here. I think this was purposeful to show how similar they really are.

Next two scenes: The culinary and religious outfits

These next two are quite interesting to me. We all know about the outfit thing. Well, let's talk about it. How are they similar? Well, in the first, Vox is wearing a priest outfit and Alastor is wearing a nun outfit, both to inspire trust, while in the second Vox is a chef and Alastor is a busboy. Again. Both are similar but happen for opposite reasons. Vox presents himself as a priest to inspire trust among sinners. He's the authority that they should believe every word of. He's the leader priest and what he says is good. Alastor presents himself as a nun to encourage Charlie to trust him. But it's moreso in a "Look at me Charlie, you trust me right? I'm an innocent, loyal nun". Vox is a chef... Enough said... Ok, I'll say more. the chef is the one who prepares the dishes and is in the most control. There. Alastor is a busboy. But furthermore, he's forced into it by Lucifer somehow (Luci, explain yourself) and he's even used by Lucifer on a pan where he's tossed around and has no control whatsoever. What I'm trying to say is each time this outfit thing happens, Alastor is being put into a weaker position. A place where he's trying to gain back control or is forced out of it. Vox on the other hand is always shown to have power. I don't think that's a coincidence. I think this has meaning. Either two things. 1: Vox is weak and is so insecure that he has to put himself in a plae cof authority to boost his ego while Alastor purposefully allows himself to be seen as weaker than he really is by certain people as a form of manipulation. Or 2, this is forshadowing that Alastor is actually weaker than Vox. Think about it. Valentino said he "almost" beat Vox. That could mean anything. Maybe Vox chickened out and left, maybe Alastor just stopped fighting, or maybe Vox was victorious. I doubt that because I'm sure he'd be putting Alastor in his place immediately on broadcast during Stayed Gone, but it's still possible. Verdict is: I still don't believe they're copying each other.

Next two: The screen scenes

Now these examples aren't used as often, but I think they're still notable. Dissection time. How are the similar? In the first, both Alastor and Vox are shown on a big screen with their demon eye/eyes and in the second they are squashing the screen (Idk how to describe sorryyy). Vox is on the big scren looking down on the sinners. Alastor's entire end part of Stayed Gone is basically him doing what Vox did at the beginning of the song. I believe this is just like the claw thing where it's there to show their similarities. Vox is surrounding Alastor to yell at him. I do believe this is supposed to emphasize how pathetic Vox is for thinking he can do anything to Alastor from where he is. I don't believe this scene has any real meaning. It's just cool that both Alastor and Vox did this. Verdict: Not copying each other.

The songs: Stayed Gone vs Hell's Greatest Dad

These songs are already very similar. They include one character trying to prove they're better than Alastor only for Alastor to interrupt. But there are a few differences that if I'm being honesty. Al, it doesn't look good for you man... Alastor is fighting with Vox in Stayed Gone and he's fighting with Lucifer, the literal Devil in Hell's Greatest Dad. That's more important to this argument than you might realize. Vox is weaker or just as strong as Alastor. Throughout Stayed Gone we can tell by Vox's behavior and the look in his eyes that he's intimidated by Alastor. In Hell's Greatest Dad, Alastor does look like he's getting a little irritated by the end. Lucifer might be one of the only demons in Hell stronger than Alastor (Besides the other sins and maybe my boy Stolas). Alastor is probably actually intimidated by him. In Stayed Gone Vox and Alastor are trying to convince appearently all of Pentagram city. From what I can see, the stakes are not all that high for them, it's mostly just Vox's ego and Alastor putting him in his place. In Hell's Greatest Dad however, they are fighting over one person and there actually is something to loose. The most important difference to me is the way these songs end. In Stayed Gone, Alastor gets the better of Vox by the end. In Hell's Greatest Dad, in a way, Lucifer gets the better of Alastor. He had the last word of the two after all. And we all know that if they were to actually "fight" fight, the literal devil will win.

In conclusion, I don't like it when people say Vox is copying Alastor because if anything, Alastor is copying Vox. But I don't think that's the case either. I believe they are unintentionally copying each other. They are very alike in that they both try to maintain trust and manipulate others around them, but in different ways. I hope this will be expanded upon in S2.

I apologize if this was hard to understand, the way I speak cn be that way. I tried my best and hope everyone got my point.

Hazbin Hotel: Vivziepop I apologize for the poor image quality. I don't have Prime Video on my chromebook so I had to just find these off the internet. We all know where they're from. The show.

[in1-nutshell]

I have a really dumb idea for Fearless.  Getaway happens, again.  The crew is trapped on the necroplanet with six hours before the djd comes knocking down the door.  When Megatron goes off to talk to Tarn, Fearless follows because why the fuck not.  Maybe they make their presence known the moment that Megatron offers to exchange himself for everyone elses safety with a loud objection.  Maybe they wait until a fight starts and Megatron gets the shit beat outta him to try and (fail) stop Tarn.  Either way I want the angst to the max.  Tarn taunting Megs for his hypocrisy, from wiping out organic planets by the dozen to practically begging for Tarn not to hurt Fearless.

Side note, not sure how this would fit into the angst but I'm laughing at the idea of Tarn having an almost a one-sided rivalry with Fearless because he went from being Megatron’s favorite student to second to a tiny fleshling.

Instant Angst coming right up!

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless VS Tarn

SFW, Platonic, ANGST, Familial, mention of wounds and some injuries, nothing too graphic, Human reader

MTMTE

Fearless wanted to go on the planetary mission with the Rod Squad.

But Megatron simple said no.

So, they tried asking Magnus, with a report too!

Still no.

They even went to Rodimus to ask to go.

Even he said no!

Fearless already was processing a sick note for the Co-captain when they saw the squad leaving.

They quickly got into their battle suit (similar to Verity’s in Last Stand of the Wrecker’s) and hopped into one of the larger med kits.

Getaway transmission inside the Necrobot’s dome. Getaway: “And now Rodimus what are you going to do? The entire crew on this ship voted mutiny. All you bots will die like pathetic fools along side Megatron. I’ll make sure to say something to Fearless for you.” Rodimus: “I swear if you lay a digit on them—” CLICK! The call had declined. Rodimus looked stressed while Megatron looked like he was going to have a stroke. Everyone who heard suddenly got worried about their little human on the ship. It wasn’t any news about Getaway behaving certain ways around organics, especially after the incident. Megatron clenching his servos. TAP! TAP! One of the larger med kits Swerve had brought in suddenly moved. Swerve: “Oh great! The med kits are possessed now!” The tap opens and Fearless pops their head out. Fearless: “Who was carrying the medkits!? I swear I nearly lost my lunch—what’s everyone looking at? Did someone die?” Megatron looks like he is about to faint. Magnus sure did. Megatron: “WHY ARE YOU HERE!?” Fearless puts their hands up in surrender. Whirl: “Megs I think you need to get your priorities checked. This is great!” Megatron: “And pray tell why having one of the most vulnerable crew members on the ship, well what’s left of the original crew, here in the same place we are going to get slaughtered by the DJD is great!?” Fearless: “…what in the world did I miss…”

Fearless wordlessly as Megatron explained their situation.

By the end of it they swore they were going to kick Getaway’s tin can so far, he would be forever drifting in space.

The small human had never met the DJD in their life.

They heard stories about the group from other bots around the ship, but it was almost like they were too scared to even speak their names.

They tried one time talking to Megatron about them, it earned them a weeklong silent treatment.

To Fearless, they were more bad guys that had made their family miserable and deathly afraid of.

They didn’t truly know what DJD did.

Fearless decided to make themselves a bit useful and tried to help more panicy bots calm down.

Apparently, it helped the bots calm down when they held/petted/cuddled them close, and they were going to bare it for their sakes.

They noticed that some bots were going to need more durable things to hold and fidget with.

Thankfully they spotted a couple of loose bolts inside a bright pink scooter.

Too bad that the scooter started up knocking them out for a bit.

When Fearless eventually comes out of their ‘nap’ they immediately open up the compartment and sees a bunch of blue flowers.

They hop off and see Megatron standing in front of a statue… of himself?

Suddenly a new bot came out of nowhere and transformed in front of Megatron.

They glared at the mysterious mech.

Something was wrong.

Something was definitely wrong…

The human’s eyes nearly popped out of their skull when they heard Megatron address Tarn about surrendering to keep the crew safe.

What was this!?!?

They were still processing what Megatron had said when Tarn started beating him up.

Fearless was ready to see Megatron completely annihilate his metal behind.

They just stared in horror seeing their father figure not even attempting to defend himself.

The tiny human was FURIOUS!

Fearless runs, jumps on Megatron’s chassis, raises their blasters up at the purple Con with fire in their eyes. Fearless: “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Megatron feels his spark stop seeing Fearless on his chassis YELLING at TARN! Tarn was surprised to see a human DEFENDING Megatron. Tarn: “What is this? Oh, I see. You truly have changed Megatron. From making every organic life form quake in your presence, to having to rely on them to fight your battles?” Tarn laughs as he takes a step forward. Fearless readies their blasters. Fearless: “I’m warning you! Stay away from us!” Tarn: “Ha! What is the little organic going to do? I am Tarn! Leader of the Decepticon Justice Division! Megatron’s chosen one!” Fearless: “You sure about that? Cause last time I checked my names on the adoption papers and not yours.” Tarn is in a slight stuttering mess, not expecting to hear that comment. Megatron tries to move his servo but can’t: “Fearless don’t provoke him!” Tarn: “You are a peculiar organic, aren’t you? Sadly, you won’t be remembered.” Fearless glares at Tarn. Fearless: “I’m not going to repeat myself Tarn, but I’ll do it for you so your tiny processor can comprehend. Stay away from us or I WILL—” Tarn: “What are you going to do? Blast me in the face?” Fearless with a determined smile: “Yes.” BLAST! Fearless had indeed blasted Tarn in the face, then proceeded to JUMP on his chassis and started punching and shooting. Tarn was too startled to properly think what was going on as the human started climbing and tearing parts of his armor. Fearless looks behind them and straight at Megatron. They had a desperate look on their face. Fearless: “GO!”

Megatron laid down on the floor for a couple of seconds stunned at what his organic child had just done.

He scrambled up and attempted to get Fearless.

Sadly, Tarn had gotten to his senses and grabbed Fearless harshly.

The leader of the DJD’s armor was dented and some holes sprinkled around.

Fearless had a scowl on their face and thrashed around in his clenched servo.

Tarn just flexed his digits and made Fearless stop and gasped hearing something snap.

That’s not good…

Megatron yelled at him to spar Fearless.

Tarn felt disgusted… and a bit jealous.

How come Megatron cared so much about his puny organic when he had him!?

Tarn sadistically laughed and threw Fearless into his subspace.

Megatron was about to demand Fearless back again when Overlord suddenly descended from the sky and demanded Tarn to hand Megatron over so he could terminate him.

Megatron slipped away with a heavy spark to the dome.

When he returned to the crew, Megatron told them what happened and who had taken Fearless.

Whirl was about to exit the dome at that same second if Cyclonus and Magnus hadn’t tackled him down.

Rodimus did his best to calm the crew, despite the sinking pit in his tank.

Everyone knew the chances Fearless had alone with Tarn.

They were slim to nonexistent.

Meanwhile, Tarn had just arrived with the rest of his group.

He opened his subspace and carelessly tossed the human aside.

Fearless yelped when they landed on one of their legs.

Another snap.

Oh, if Ratchet ever found out about this…

Well good news was that he wasn’t even here… yeah… good news…

Tarn just gave them a simple order to stay put.

He wanted to destroy them in front of Megatron.

No one else was to touch them under his orders.

A silver lining, now all they needed to do was figure out a way to get back to the crew and not die in the process.

Just two things.

While Fearless was starting to worry about the shortness of breath and hot/cold flashes they were feeling, they barely noticed much of the battle happening around them.

It wasn’t until Tarn and most of his group had gone to personally fight that Fearless realize that they had been left in the ‘care’ of the light blue minibot that had been giving them the stink eye since they snapped their leg.

Suddenly the minibot told them that she didn’t see them escape before head to Deathsaurus.

Fealess suddenly realized they had no one guarding them.

They yelped and grunted as they tried getting up.

Thankfully they didn’t need to stand up for too long thanks to a familiar looking felicon racing to them.

Ravage: “Fearless!” Ravage skid to a stop in front of the barely standing human. Fearless managed to give him a tight smile before leaning on him. He smelled them a bit. Ravage: “You’re bleeding.” Fearless: “That’s probably from the broken bone.” Ravage: “What is broken?!” Fearless: “Yeah and I think something in my chest snapped too…” Ravage kneels letting Fearless struggle to get on. He flinches hearing their labored breathing and yelps. Ravage: “This isn’t going to be a smooth ride Fearless. Hold on tight and don’t let go.” Fearless gripping part of his armor: “Wasn’t planning on it.”

Fearless didn’t know what was worse.

Focusing on the pain in their chest and leg or focusing on the battle around them.

They definitely needed to apologize to Ravage for how hard they were clenching his armor.

Most didn’t even take notice of the felicon being used to move the injured human.

Sadly, there was one mech on the battlefield that had taken notice.

Fearless sees the giant shadow dwarfing them and Ravage. All they see is Tarn’s large servo reach for them. Fearless raises one of their arms and starts blasting. Fearless: “GO BACK TO THE PITS WHERE YOU BELONG!” It only slows down Tarn a bit. It wasn’t enough. Tarn slaps hard at Fearless’s smaller body. To Ravage’s horror he sees the smaller body get plunged into the fray, swallowed by the fire and smoke of the battlefield. Ravage: “FEARLESS!” A pair of mechs had just seen the act from the screen. One of them immediately ran out.

Time skip after the battle…

The bots who were well enough to walk started rounded up around Terminus and Megatron.

Megatron was trying to recruit a search party for Fearless.

When Megatron had gone out, it was impossible to find their tiny body amongst the chaos around.

Even right after dealing with the DJD and Rodimus pulling him out of the place, there was still no sign of Fearless.

Hope was dwindling fast.

Megatron: “All right, in 5 minutes we depart.” Skids (yes, he lives): “Count me in.” Rung holds Skids back: “With the low energy you have, I don’t think that’s wise Skids.” Skids: “Fearless is out there, we need every bot on deck.” Whirl hobbling over: “He’s right Eyebrows. My Amica is out there and needs us.” Terminus looking at one of the monitors. Terminus: “Your human is small, correct?” Megatron not looking: “Yes.” Terminus: “And in some form of armor?” Megatron still not looking: “Yes.” Terminus: “They leak a lot of red fluids?” Megatron pauses before looking at the screen. Fearless was INSIDE the dome and staggering to the door. Megatron: “Sweet Solus Prime!” Megatron sprints to the door faster than he ever had in his life.

No one knows how Fearless got this far.

Ratchet tells them that it shouldn’t even be possible for them to move with the amount of blood loss and broken bones.

But he wasn’t complaining.

No one is.

Ratchet doesn’t leave Fearless’s side for a couple of hours.

Ratchet stands up with Fearless, bandaged up and limp. Ratchet: “I need someone to hold Fearless, very still, for a while.” Megatron: “I’ll do it.” Ratchet: “No offense Megatron, but you’re shaking like a new recruit. Any harsh movement is not what they need right now.” Whirl hobbles over and opens his cockpit. Carefully he reclines the seat and pulls out one of Fearless’s blankets from his subspace. Whirl: “I’ll take them Doc. I’ll even sit down in the corner.” Ratchet hesitates, but the determined look in Whirl’s optic finally made him gently lay Fearless inside. As soon as Ratchet finished putting Fearless down, Megatron came up and carefully tucked them in. Fearless slightly snuggles closer to the blanket. Terminus peaks over Megatron’s shoulder. Terminus: “They mean that much to you?” Megatron watches Whirl carefully hobble to a corner and sat down. He didn’t miss the Ex-Wrecker carefully adjust their blanket. Megatron: “Yes, yes they do.”

[jennilah]

a very dumb deep dive

gather round, i saw a few people say they want to crawl into the head of someone who had trouble telling Hoffman and Strahm apart upon first viewing. I offer mine for the picking because i think ive identified, at least in MY personal experience, the various elements that came together that formed the ultimate confusion

if this is not relatable nor informative, i hope it is at least a little silly. this is all in good fun and obviously the difference between them is clear as day to me now

this will be longer than it should be.

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER ONE...

I do not remember character names. Not until they are recurring, or I've rewatched a film a few times. Sometimes it will take me an entire 12-21 episode season length for me to know characters by name in a show. I've seen some Saw films more than 6 times now and I still don't know everyone in the traps 🤷‍♀️

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER TWO..

at the time of watching Saw IV for the first time, the madness has not yet set in for Hoffman and Strahm for me. In fact, I didn't like either of them. I wasn't looking at them with my deranged eyes yet.

Without my crazy brain activated, sometimes I'll get face blindness between people who have similar enough hair and stuff. I'll use clothes as an identifier if I can

Meaning, I didn't notice anything like face details, mannerisms, body shapes- to me, it was one dark haired white guy in a suit and another dark haired white guy in a suit who both worked in law enforcement.

uh oh

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER THREE..

in a very elaborate plot like this with many interwoven stories being told, especially with police procedure, has a lot of details that get lost on me upon first watch because I simply easily misunderstand what is happening. I zone out on stuff like legal talk because I don't know that world at all, and the more general plot information to absorb, the more I forget.

"But [character] SAYS..!" oh, I'm aware! If you pay attention and can remember character names, everything is pretty clear in this movie!

so between all three points, you see where I'm starting to go with this.

THAT BRINGS US TO..

Saw IV. let me describe to you what I believe my thought process was to the best of my memory.

This guy shows up. as far as I knew, this was the first time I've met this character. I forgot he was in Saw III because he was only in it for a second and I definitely don't remember him among the sea of other characters.

ok. sure. new detective because the others are dead. got it 👌

next time we see him is a few minutes later, now in this lighting. I don't have his features memorized yet. I'm pretty sure I put it together that it was the same guy as before, and I see he's in a new outfit.

keep in mind he is not at all referred to with a NAME yet, until Perez shows up and introduces all three of them at the same time

here comes "Strahm," as he was quickly introduced in practically the same breath, from the FBI. and he looks like this.

I mentally go "ok FBI guy in the suit" because my occasional bout of face blindness is activating rn. The problems are on the horizon for me

I survived that scene, but the scene right after? I'm doomed.

Major Confusion #1:

this treacherous interrogation footage, ft Hoffman's ass and slutty, slutty suspenders (but I did NOT give him even a second glance here yet. genuinely.)

I'm 100% sure I just didn't know who I was looking at in this footage at all just because of the outfit change

and then the boys are back in town. and they're BOTH WEARING THIS...

This was mean. this was fucked. I was doomed. My brain is already churning trying to keep up with what the footage was, now there's two dark haired white men in dark suits. Who was who again? I think the guy who just turned off the TV was the new detective. The guy who was talking to the Swat guy before. Yeah....

Major Confusion #2:

Next time we see them, Strahm and Perez are watching the interrogation footage. They quickly start talking Jigsaw stuff and my mind is already working overtime figuring out what information is and isn't important to hold on to.

Hoffman says hello for like 1 minute and then fucks off.

My brain is going "ok.. that footage was an old interrogation... mhm..."

this is the information my brain has decided to retain from that scene for later.

Major Confusion #3

this dark haired white guy in a suit got kidnapped idfk. the shots are all very short and he's enshrouded in shadow or SUPER close-up, and I don't know to recognize him by his lips yet. clearly Im more focused on his hair color and suit, so this could be fuckin anyone

Perez said something about officers being in danger earlier, I think I thought maybe it was irony and the cocky FBI guy was the one who got kidnapped instead? i dont know.

then after the first test of Rigg's game, you see Perez and Strahm again for a SECOND. I def didn't pay them much attention. My mind is elsewhere- the insanity of the previous scene

Major Confusion #4:

then FINALLY... we see Hoffman again in the slut chair

and what have we learned about me so far?

let me sum up my logic for you

Now, if only I was certain on their names..

I'm not going to go over every single scene, but I guarantee you, the confusion was fully set in by this point. That detective from the beginning either really just went home, or he was working with Perez. Or maybe it's the FBI guy and someone else is in the chair? No idea.

My brain retained that one slightly misguided bit of information from the interrogation footage and thought This Guy, Whoever This Guy Is, was interrogating Jill a second time. (Wrong.)

there was no memory of the guy's big ass in that footage or anything. that was also way the fuck in the intro and there was a LOT more that happened between then and now in the movie to remember now. and people really don't say each other's names that often.

Yeah there's also that flashback footage showing The Guy In the Chair and Rigg back in the day, but I was too far gone. That was simply the story of how That Guy and Art Blanc knew each other.

and boy does Chair Guy not do much for the rest of the movie, so there was not much more info about his identity that I could try to work out. Maybe he was just some new random guy meant to die in someone else's game because he is kind of a dirty cop?

Pretty sure I was resigned to the fact that I was watching completely utterly confused by the third act.

then fucking JEFF DENLON shows up and i remember either mentally or physically throwing my hands up like "ok now i REALLY dont know whats going on"

I remember I was still excited by the thrill of it, just completely lost as to who was who and what the fuck was going on.

as Eric Matthews was yelling "WHO'S COMING THROUGH THAT DOOR?" i remember going "I DONT KNOW, MAN!!!!!!"

The Grand Clear-up:

THE REVEAL.

Through the power of the Hello Zepp reveal montage, I finally understood "OHHHH YOU'RE THE DETECTIVE FROM THE BEGINNING!!!"

i had other confusions that i eventually worked out, but I went into Saw V much more clear on who was who. There was Hoffman the evil detective, and Strahm the jerk FBI guy (who I then softened up to throughout V, no longer thinking he was a jerk)

and, if I couldn't physically tell who was on screen because I still struggled a little bit with that... I looked for Strahm's bandage :)

and thats my story lmao...

anyway finding out just how many other people mixed them up or confused them or couldn't tell them apart makes me feel so validated thank u. i understand u

[neo-zone]

Sweet Home 3 Official Trailer Personal Breakdown

Some little narration from monster Hyun-su with flashbacks of the last two seasons moment of them. Neat, I like it

Yi-kyung's daughter seems surprised (and kinda scared). Maybe when she realizes who her father is or she's realizing how bad the situation is in the stadium once it's already too late to go back to her peaceful garden? But who knows

Alright, how we go from monster Hyun-su having no sense of privacy at the last episode of season 2 to a scene of him and Eun-yu laying down separately like a divorced couple sleeping on different beds in season 3?

I guess the scene where Hyun-su parted with Eun-yu is after the night attack or well whatever, the main point is it's before the time skip. Also this is most likely the last time we see him with his best hairstyle before he went back to his older one and wearing some fancy clothes because why not. As for Eun-yu and Chan-young, maybe they went back to the stadium? But I don't know

What's this last step of monsterization Eun-hyeok mentioned? I thought it's just stop at the infected regaining full control over themselves after 15 days and got a cool superpower (although most are just variations of fleshy kinda icky stretched limbs, no not you Hyun-su your wing is cool) 🤔 Second power-up stuff, maybe?

So monster Hyun-su attacking Chan-young might have just been a red herring (gladly because whatever the reason they fight it does not make sense for both characters). There's another nasty murderous monster near the hospital at night and Chan-young probably planned a suicide attack with the explosion because duh what else a feeble human like me gonna do against a monster immune to firearms. Monster Hyun-su ofc got his shared abandonment issue with Hyun-su triggered and his immediate response is unconventionally grabbing Chan-young away before he could do something reckless. Hopefully that's what actually happened

On the other hand, THIS (Hyun-su vs Eun-hyeok) is the actual fight (more like little brawl you saw on school tho before Hyun-su uses his wing). Does remind me that the first thing Hyun-su did after waking up in S2E1 is beating up Sang-won (though unsuccessful in the end because he's skewered like a kebab on the vehicle ceiling shortly after). I could see it as both reference and parallel with the scene I just mentioned: Hyun-su saw what he thought is a Green Home survivor he knew who "died" in season 1 and then got into fight with them inside a large vehicle. He probably thought Eun-hyeok went through a similar unfortunate fate like Sang-wook, so he fought him out of anger. Except Eun-hyeok is Eun-hyeok and his corpse is not possessed by someone else with a penchant of pushing Hyun-su's buttons *side eye to Sang-won*. Also he's very much alive and in control of himself. Notice that the outcome is also both of them talking in peace and some bromance bromance vibe

I just noticed that Hyun-su's wing is covered in fire! He's very much ok, so this is an improvement and could be vital in a fight against the monsters

I'm not sure how it really went when the Neohumans going to the stadium? Is it peaceful until the soldiers start attacking? Or is it attacking first before they comply? Or they start attacking after the time skip? Once again, Sergeant Tak, I know you 100% don't trust that motherfucker, so it's not too late to burn Sang-won with your gasoline stock. And make sure not even his ashes remain this time. He's kinda slippery so make sure he does not slip away and find another corpse to possess for the third time

You could see how obvious the "I don't wanna be here" look on the facility girl's face when the Neohumans gang are on the stadium. Poor girl

"Oraenmanieyo" (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠) ah, Hyun-su finally met with Sang-won again after ages. Can't wait for the unlimited stabbing and flirting 👀 Their long overdue meeting probably happened during the epic showdown at night between Hyun-su & Eun-hyeok (& others if there's any who's willing to die) vs evil Neohumans for the final battle, because it's on night as well and there's fire

Um so what's going on between Yi-kyung and Hyun-su? Whatever it is, I have a bad feeling about it, just like their fight last season

Please do tell me or correct me in the reply if I still missed something (ofc outside the repated scenes from first teaser or ones I had discussed in the previous breakdown) or wrong at something. Thank you

[bweeeb]

JEALOUS

part three

Theodore Nott x Y/n Millicent reader

Friends to lovers

Summary: When Mattheo appears with a bruised face in the Slytherin common room, circumstances align to return to how they were before, or perhaps even improve upon them.

Pansy had always appreciated Y/n's optimism, which made it all the more surprising to see her so disconnected from the world. After all, how could someone so positive be so lost in thought? In the seventeen years that Pansy Parkinson had known Y/n, she had never seen her so detached from what was happening around them — except when it came to books and more books.

Pansy couldn’t quite tell if the issue was with the specific person sitting diagonally opposite at the table or if it was simply because the OWLs were approaching and Y/n wanted to excel in her exams. It wasn’t just about doing well; she wanted her parents to be as satisfied with her performance as she was.

The only person truly close to Y/n during that time was Mattheo Riddle. He had been around, and although their relationship didn’t progress beyond a casual level, they both found contentment in keeping things simple and unspoiled. This approach, as Mattheo had suggested before they first slept together, only strengthened their friendship.

The girl was sitting with her legs crossed, reading a book about magical creatures, when Mattheo entered the common room — his nose bleeding and cut, cheeks smeared with blood, chin bruised, lips injured. To be honest, Y/n could tell he was pretty messed up, and even though the common room wasn’t well-lit and Riddle's steps were quick as he passed her, Millicent quickly noticed something was wrong and grabbed his wrists before allowing him to go up to his dormitory.

— What happened?

— Nothing! Mattheo turned to the girl, who tilted her head mockingly.

— Don’t fuck with me, Mattheo.

— Oh, I already did, baby. He smiled, and Y/n groaned at his stubbornness. — I’m fine...'"

— Merlin, of course not, you’re all messed up. Look at your face, Matt. The girl murmured, placing both hands on the sides of Riddle’s face as he groaned in pain. — See? I can’t even touch you.

— I think you shouldn’t. Mattheo groaned once again and Y/n frowned.

— What? Matt, who did this?

— No one, Y/n.

— Did you beat yourself up for being an idiot?

— That’s exactly it. Mattheo smiled at her while lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

— Look at me. — she requested, though it came off more like an order — Mattheo.' She called, and he looked at her.

— I can’t tell you, baby. You’ll be angry. He whispered, and Y/n's expression changed; her jaw tightened in a way that Mattheo had never seen, her honey-colored eyes looking so deadly outside of bed. — Don’t kill him, princess.

— Who the hell does he think he is?

— I deserved it! If that helps anything. Those were the last words she heard him yell before she left the common room and ran after Theodore Nott.

Y/n didn’t walk for long; she knew exactly where he was. She climbed the Astronomy Tower and found Theo sitting against the brick wall, looking at the sky.

— Did you come here to yell at me? Because if so, I think I’ll pass. Theo said preemptively as soon as he sensed the girl’s perfume in the room.

— Why did you hit him? She asked as he exhaled cigarette smoke into the air and shrugged.

— He deserved it...i think.

— You think? — she asked, approaching but not sitting next to him. It had been a long time since she heard his voice; it felt strange, sensing that he was different.

— No, I'm sure. He looked up, his blue eyes no longer as clear or bright, meeting hers. Theo could even say that her eyes had a similar glow, something akin to the negative.

— He’s your best friend, Theodore.

— You were my best friend, and he took that from me. Nothing more fair. Theodore's voice conveyed the pain clearly to Y/n. She relented, allowing herself to slide down next to him on the ground.

— He didn’t do anything... we did it to ourselves.

— My mother would be disappointed with me. He let out a sigh and continued looking at a particular spot in the sky while she observed his profile with a trembling breath. — I think Mattheo is right.

— Mattheo says a lot of shit and isn’t always right, Theodore. She murmured.

— But he would be right about this. Theo looked into her eyes, and she saw a tear marking the waterline in the beautiful blue eyes of the Italian beside her.

— I think we both made choices that hurt each other, Theo. She would understand.

Y/n gently placed her hand on one of his cheeks, and Theo’s eyes closed, savoring the warmth of her touch as a solitary tear traced down to her index finger. — I’m sorry, bella. I was an idiot. He apologized, and Y/n wrapped her arms around Nott’s neck, pulling him into a comforting hug.

— It’s okay, Teddy. I was an idiot too, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t know you cared so much. Too weak to respond, Theo just nodded on her shoulder and sniffled softly, knowing full well how relieved he was that she called him Teddy and not Theodore.

— I meant it when I said I loved you. I love you! Amo ogni parte di te, i love every part of your soul, your body, your voice. I’ve been in love with you since the moment Pansy introduced you to us. I just thought I’d never have a chance with you angel. Theo moved back, placing his hands on either side of the girl’s face, who was silently crying. — No, non piangere, bella ragazza, mi dispiace. He lamented, wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks.

— I don’t know what you’re saying because I stopped practicing my stupid Italian since it reminded me of you, Teddy. She whimpered as her tears flowed.

— La mia bella ragazza. He whispered, pulling her into another hug where she buried her head in his chest, accepting the gentle stroke of her scalp that Theo gave. — Mi dispiace, dolcezza.

— I don’t think I’ve ever felt as jealous in my life as that night, Teddy. She murmured into his neck when the crying stopped.

— I wanted to kill Mattheo when I saw you entering our room with him. He admitted. — Do you think he’ll be okay?

— Yeah, I think that was his plan.

— To make you almost kill me and stay with you forever? Theo murmured.

— Shut up. Mattheo is a good friend, but he likes to provoke you. When he saw what was happening, he wanted to help me get revenge. Millicent shrugged and pulled away from Nott’s neck.

— Great, another reason to hit him.

— Stop it, Teddy. Y/n gave the boy’s chest a gentle push, who smiled sideways and quickly pulled the girl by the neck until their lips touched. — I love you. I meant it too when I said I loved you, Teddy. She told him, settling on the boy's lap, who pulled her closer.

— You have no idea how good it is to hear you calling me that, Principessa. I couldn’t stand hearing you call me Theodore. Mi stava uccidendo. He groaned and kissed the girl’s lips again.

In the end, things turned out just as Y/n had thought.

---

Cute, I hope you liked it.

Requests are open, message me if you have any ideas💞