#jazz voice: n. no please don't

[yupekosi]

back at it w another dp x dc prompt!! :0

you know the setup; Jack and Maddie go evil mad scientist mode and Danny and Jazz have to run away to Gotham.... except the only adult Jazz can think of that they could go to is their auntie, Harleen Quinzel.

she was the 'cool aunt', their favourite babysitter as kids, and the one who inspired Jazz to become a therapist. more importantly, she knew all about the Fenton's ghost hunting, and that ghosts were even real. Harleen never liked that the kids were being raised on top of a lab filled with dangerous weapons- she argued with her sister, Maddie, all the time about it- and she always told Jazz if their parents ever made them feel unsafe she and Danny could go to her.

but at some point, she just... dropped off the face of the earth. she still sent cards and texts, but she stopped showing up for Thanksgivings and Bat Mitzvahs. this was, of course, after she met the Joker, not that she told Maddie and the kids about that part, just that her work at Arkham was keeping her too busy to visit. even less than sane, she still wanted her family as far away from Mister J as possible.

Jazz knew auntie Harleen lived in Gotham, and she could get her number from their mom's phone. hopefully she still meant what she'd said when Jazz was a kid, and wouldn't mind two traumatised teens showing up on her doorstep.

Harley, of course, is delighted to see her favourite niece and nephew, and Ivy has to physically restrain her from coming after the Fentons with her mallet

[alientee]

Alastor x Jessica Rabbit Reader Part 2

You and Alastor are walking down the street and you couldn't help but hold him even closer if possible. Everyone was staring at you, some even stopping in the middle of the street to gawk at you both. You look at Alastor to see if he's noticing the same thing but he couldn't be bothered. "Honey where are we going" Alastor smiles down at you "A lovely little place called Cannibal town. Is similar to our time line."

You look up at him nervously. "Are you sure its alright for me to be there darling... will someone try to..eat me" Alastor stops walking lifting your chin up. "Well darling you are delectable enough to eat, but rest assured anyone who comes near you with that motive will be slaughtered where they stand. Besides there's someone I would like you too meet"

You sigh placing a hand on his chest "I trust you honey" He pats your head "Good now look alive we are almost there." You walk into a nice clean town that looks true to his word somewhat similar to when you and Alastor were alive. You see many of the people working and keeping the town clean, it didn't seem like hell at all. Alastor brings you both into a nice looking shop and opens the door for you. You walk in the store and it seems so nice and cozy on the inside.

"Alastor?! oh alastor what a surprise!" A grey woman with black eyes and sharp teeth comes up towards alastor hugging him tightly "And who is this you brought with you, your such a charmer Alastor this is the second time you've come to my store with a woman in tow. And a angel no less what a surprise this is. " Alastor brings you closer to him "This treasure is my lovely wife, y/n this is Rosie one of my good friends and one hell of a overlord." Rosie looked at you with shock on her face "Your wife?! And here I thought you were an ace in the hole." Rosie laughs while Alastor just looks confused. "I still don't know what that means" You snicker. “Hate to break it to you but he still is.” Rosie grabs you both. "Come in come in we have MUCH to discuss."

Rosie takes you two to a back room with more privacy. She pulls out a small box offering it to you. "Would you like some pinky fingers hun, not that you need them your figure is to die for." You quickly but kindly refuse. "Ohhh no thank you I don't have my husbands taste for flesh hehe." Rosie put them away looking at Alastor smugly. "Oh Alastor don't tell me you thought she looked pretty enough to eat but you just couldn't do it could you? You fell too hard to soon haha"

Alastor looks at Rosie smile still on with his eyes closed. "I can assure you I never thought of such a thing" Rosie scoffs a little "You can't fool me Alastor a doll like her, you must've fantasized about a taste once an a while." You can hear the static in Alastors voice rise. "Rosie, do believe me when I say I have not, please." Rosie seems to pick up on the change of mood. "I see well tell me how you to met, I can't imagine old alastor here pulling a gal like you he's so reserved when he wants to be, no offense hon"

"Oh well we met in a jazz club and he was just dancing his heart out. I guess he had had to much whiskey because he asked me to dance and I said yes. He pulled me all over the dance floor. I was surprised I could keep up with him, next thing you know he's coming to my shows given me flowers with full blushed face and a nervous wide smile. He had me charmed being such a gentleman especially with that accent." Rosie looks even more intrigued "Alastor has an accent? Now this is news to me, where is it." You gave Alastor a look."That's what id like to know, honey?"

Alastor's smile drops a little but not by much "Well in radio you have to talk proper and clearly to give your audience a good show" You roll your eyes but let it go and keep talking to Rosie. You like her she's very kind and inviting you can see why Alastor is fond of her. Rosie gives you a hug saying if you ever saw each other again she had to get all the gossip on Alastor. As you and him are leaving he stops for a moment lifting up your chin with his finger. "So ya missed this cher?"

You blushed moving your head away. "Alastor don't you start" All he did was chuckle at you. "Why not? ya missed my accent so much. I remember how I made you shiver when I talked to ya nice." You looked at alastor a playful glare in your eyes. "Its been to long since we've been apart but I think we both know your not…. How the kids say, about that life." He looks at you funny before linking your arms. “I’ll never understand all the phrases that come up today always a diffrent one each time.”

When you roll your eyes at him his smile gets wider kissing your forehead. "Lets go to our next destination" You feel him put his arm over your shoulder leading you forward. "Which is?" "A theme Park named LuLu World, we didn't have one of those when we were alive." you nodded "Oh yes the first one came out when I was in my 80's. I could never go see it for myself." Alastor pulled you along faster "Well wait no longer here we are!" You look around and its nothing but bright colorful lights, contraptions you'd never seen and loads of food everywhere with people in costumes.

"Oh wow this is a lot to take in" Alastor grabs your hand holding it tighter than you would've wanted. " Stay very close to me who knows who's watching. Wouldn't want my mon amour to get lost or hurt." You smiled slightly a little worried but ready to have fun.

"I don't know Vox I don't think Tv's should be on rides, you could shatter If your not careful haha" Vox rolled his eyes eating his cotton candy. "Oh fuck you Val, maybe you shouldn't get on a roller coaster, might fly away with those fat ass wings." Valentino flinched " Oh you take that back you wide faced B-!" Velvette pushes herself between both of them. "Hey you lot, while you two are ova here bitchin, that radio demons got a bad bitch on his arm, looks like a angel literally."

Both of them look over to where she was talking about and she was right. There was Alastor walking hand and hand with an angel. Vox pushes forward he couldn't believe this shit. "What the fuck is someone like that doing with Alastor! I'm following him, that old timey prick is up to something. I refuse for him to get ahead of me in what ever the fuck he's doing." The other V's roll their eyes following his league. They ended up following behind the two for a few minutes not realizing that Alastor's shadow had noticed them.When the shadow warned Alastor he clenched his smile, he refused for these idiots to ruin what was a lovely date to his wife.

Alastor uses his shadows to stop them in there place making them all fall on there face. Alastor pushes you on your lower back, speeding up your movement. "Come dear there is so much more to see, look over there a clown show." You turn your head intrigued at the many tricks the clowns showed even if they looked deadly.

Vox gets up angry , his screen slightly buffering. "That fucking coward, I'll give that piece of shit something to smile about." Vox starts looking around trying to find anything heavy but only seeing stuffed animals. Growing frustrated he grabs the first thing that looks heavy and throws it at Alastor. Alastor feels a heavy object smack him right in the back of the head making him fall forward, he catches himself picking up whatever Vox threw ready to smack him in the face with it. He turned around to see Vox flipping him off. "Thats what you get bitch"

His antlers grew with his eyes turning into dials, voodoo symbols surrounding him. " Oh Alastor is that for me!" Alastor turns back to normal, he finally looks at what's in his hand. It's a multicolored glass sculpture of flowers. He took the opportunity to shove them into you with a smile larger than usually. "Of course sweetie, anything for my baby" He pulls you closer flipping Vox and the other two off while walking away.

Both Velvette and Valentino look at Vox while he's fuming. Velvette speaks up first "You know you helped him rizz right?" Vox turns around making a scene "I CAN FUCKING SEE THAT. How in the fuck did he land someone so out of his league, that prudish jackass! It's not fair!" Valentino just looks at them walking away raising an eyebrow. "That virgin is so not hitting that right"

As you and Alastor walk through the theme park you couldn't help but feel a little clingy. Spending this much time together is making you nostalgic. It made you feel like you and Alastor where as happy as you used to be. "Come on Alastor, let's go home, I'll make you some jambalaya." He looks at you with a smile as wide as his eyes right now. He lowers his face to your's his radio static making his voice deeper. "That sounds lovely."

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim

[normansnt]

The Prince

(Alastor x prince of hell!reader)

"HOLLLLYYY FUCKING SHIT (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER WE ARE VISITING CHARLIEEEE" yelled your dad while bursting into your room.

You looked up at your dad startled.

"Thats great, but why are you yelling?" You asked while raising your eyebrow.

"BECAUSE WE ARE GOING NOW COME OOONNN" he continued yelling while taking your hand and dragging you out of your room and off you guys were to the Hazbin Hotel.

When you arrived your dad almost run in before you told him to tone it down he is still the king of hell who has to keep up a certain image.

This was your relationship in a nutshell. You were not at all like your father and older sister. You were calm and collected and were there to calm them down. And why you stuck with your dad? Because he was broken after your mother left and you kind of got stuck being his mental support.

You never blamed Charlie for leaving you had the chance you do that as well but you decided to stay.

Your dad entered the hotel and immediately hugged Charlie. You just calmly walked in after him.

"OOOHHHHHH YOU BROUGHT (Y/N)" yelled Charlie as well excitedly and gave you the same bone crushing hug your dad gave her earlier.

"Yeah...'m here...sis....cant...breathe" you tried to get a sentence out.

"OH yeah of course sorry"

"Its fine Im happy to see you Charlie" you smiled at her while dusting your button up shirt.

After this encounter Charlie introduced you to the rest of the residents including her girlfriend, who you were delighted to meat since Charlie always rented about her when you guys would talk.

But of course your dad managed to make that encounter awkward as well to which you just sighed a little.

Unbeknownst to you a certain radio demon had his eyes on you from the moment you entered. It was one thing that your attire was something he himself would wear and it suited your figure perfectly, quite old fashioned just like he liked it, but when he saw that seemingly you were the distinguished one in the family you have won his interest.

The way you held yourself with a straight back chin up, truly befitting a prince. He noticed that you seem to either calm down or hint to your father on how to act. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"And this here-" started Charlie nearing the stairs where Alastor appeared. "-oh, this is Alastor our beloved building manager"

"Its a pleasure to meet you sir quite the pleasure" said Alastor while shaking Lucifers hand and wiping it in his coat after.

Not paying a second more of his attention on your father he looked immediately to you.

"And this magnificent creature is the prince of hell himself I'm sure" he said while taking your hand and softly kissing your knuckles.

Your face got a bit read while he straightened back up eye contact never leaving.

"I am, it is a pleasure to meet you sir, I quite enjoy your radio podcast" you managed to get out after re-gaining your composure.

What you said was true, though. You enjoyed his brodcast, his voice, and interestingly enough your taste in music was similar, the jazz part at least.

Alastors eyes lit up at that.

"Indeed? Well I'm honored the prince of hell himself enjoys what I do, and please do call me Alastor." he smiled at you and took one of your hands in both of his while you guys just stared at each other.

"Should we do something ooor...?" Whispered angel to Husk.

However the cat was to stunned to speak. He has never seen Alastor act like this with anyone before. The radio demon was literally flirting with the prince of hell.

"WOOOOWWW ooookkkkk nononono lemme just...squeeze in here" said your father while standing between you and Alastor which was almost impossible thats how close you two stood to each other but he managed.

"If you don't mind I believe my daughter was about to show us the hotel so see ya later" said your dad hastily while pushing you away from the overlord.

"Oh, no, we built the hotel together we should show it together, right Charlie?" Grinned Alastor at the princesse

"...Ok"

"I wouldn't mind at all to show the lovely little prince around" he smiled at you and offered you his arm which you gladly took.

All this while Lucifer was glaring daggers at Alastors back as you two walked off chatting happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WOOOOOOWWWW LOOK AT ME POSTING AGAIN YEAAHHHHH WHAT CAN I SAY I HAVE A PROBLEM

And you bitches too I literally uploaded my Hazbin Hotel posts minutes ago and yall are eating it up already.

I mean ofc thank you sm for all the love (🥹🧡) but DAMN yall good? Anyone need a therapist?

Haha, just kidding...we all do.

ANYWAAAYSSS

I HAVE SOOO MANY MORE IDEAS AND I CANT WAIT TO WRITE THEM AND SHARE THEM WITH YOU GUYS.

I'm also thinking about writing a pt.2 for this so lemme know if yall would be interested😎

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

[gaypirate420]

Happy birthday// Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.

Request: can I get a jasper wishin' me happy birthday? 🥺 Like Jas x gen. neut. reader. lots of cuddling falling asleep in his arms feelin' safe & protected from an abusive dad.

A/N: I really tried to put a lot of comfort in this one. I hope everything it's okay, anon! I got carried away with this request.

Tw: Abuse.

Throwing your body into your bed, you buried yourself with your blankets, creating a safe fort with your pillows, stuff animals and the most cozy blanket you have.

Your hands shake, eyes welling up with tears.

Your father keeps screaming from downstairs, always getting mad at the tiniest mistake from your part.

Now your head hurts from the hair pulling and your face has another bruise.

You sob quietly against your pillow and cover your ears with your headphones.

He doesn't shut up, his voice leaking through the music. Why doesn't he shut up!?

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

You gasp for air, your body starts shaking when you hear his heavy footsteps approaching your door.

You hold your breath as you see his shadow pass.

A huge sigh of relief leaves your lips as he passed your bedroom and didn't bang at the door or try to force it open.

Jasper made his way to your home. A grin on his face as he holds two boxes with a shiny paperwrap in your favorite color.

Your boyfriend didn't have the chance to visit your earlier for your birthday, he sighs as he remembers that only because of his "brother" his plans for today were ruined.

But he's hoping there's still time to do something nice, maybe a nice walk through the woods at night. He makes his way into your room. Climbing up the window and open it.

You don't notice his precense yet, your eyes are wide awake and teary as you watch your comfort show with headphones on.

Someone uncovers you.

You see a pair of golden eyes looking at you.

Then a frown crosses his face.

"Darlin'?" He asks softly. Your wide eyes look up at him, your pretty face bruised and your hands shaking.

"Hi, cowboy." You smiled and try your best to sound happy and cheerful, as if that will distract him from the obvious bruise on your face.

"What are you doing here, Jazz?" You ask softly, your eyes find the two boxes he left on your nightstand, that make him frown more.

The blonde sits at the edge of the bed, his pale hand reaching for your face, he feels his blood boil when you flinch, he's mad you can see it but it's not at you, never at you.

"I...I brought you your gifts, darlin'." He whispers very softly and his finger gently strokes your cheek. It's takes you a couple of seconds but you lean on his touch.

"...today it's my birthday?" You ask in a whisper, that makes his heart break into a million pieces.

"Who did this to you, sugar?" He asked softly, golden eyes meeting yours, but there was something on his tone that was more demanding.

"....dad." You whisper, you felt like a child again, telling someone your father did something bad to you.

Your lips tremble and the welled up tears on your eyes fall down your cheeks the moment his arms wrapped around your trembling body. His strong arms holding you close.

Jasper wants to ask. He wants to know. He needs to know what happened. He knows your father isn't very gentle but he never thought of this.

He wants to know why you didn't tell him anything. Since minute one he'll have you out of your home, miles away from your father, safe and sound with him.

But your sobs makes him change his attention back to you.

His lips leave a tender kiss on your forehead, his thumb tracing circles on your back. His finger are cold but make you feel so warm. You sit there, feeling safe inside your own house for the first time in years. With Jasper here nothing could touch you.

You can breath.

In.

Holding the scent of Jasper.

Out.

Repeat.

Your teary eyes look up at his golden eyes.

"....I want to see the gifts, p-please." You speak in a soft and innocent voice, almost ashamed of asking for them in this moment, but you're too curious now and you don't want to think about anything that happened today. Jasper smirks, he sits you on his lap, you felt very light when he did that.

The vampire takes the first box, it's small and it fits on his hand.

"There you go, sugar." Jasper whispers gently, your face finally has a small smile on it. You take the small gift and open it.

"It's a cupcake." You smiled softly. Jasper nodded and took the small candle that came with the cupcake, burying it on the icing. Your smile widen with every movement he did.

He could feel them, your emotions, you're still scared and anxious but they're getting replaced by happiness very slowly. He light up the candle and lean over to whisper on your ear.

"Happy birthday to you." He began to sing softly, his voice very harmonious, his accent peeking through.

A couple of tears fall down your cheeks but this one's are happy ones, you're so happy Jasper is here. Holding you. Keeping you safe.

If your father walks through that door...

You don't want to think about Jasper hurting your father or even kill him.

But.

Could he- would he?

Do you want him to?

Well if you think about it— you shake your head from those dark thoughts and enjoy his soft singing. Jasper kisses your cheek, his cold lips leaving small kisses that make you tingle. Murmuring a happy birthday and how much he loves you.

"Make a wish, darlin'." He whispers as he holds the cupcake close. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think about your wish for a couple of seconds and blow out the candle.

You bite a part of the cupcake, your lips and the tip of nose stained with icing. You giggle and look at Jasper, you kiss his lips to stain him too. The blonde chuckles, you lean over to fetch the camera he gifted you last year.

You turn it on and scoop even closer to Jasper, he holds your hips in place. You point the camera at you and him, it's always tricky to get him fit on the photo with the height difference between you two.

You smile, he smirks and you take a couple of pictures. He bares his fangs in one, making you giggle.

The blonde kisses your cheek once more and grabs the bigger box for you. You shake it gently, it's not heavy but it's something big. You look up at Jasper with a smile on your face, he can feel your excitement.

You undo the wrap paper in a very gentle manner, you want to keep it as a memory, like last year's. Jasper smiles at your fingers grabbing the wrap paper with such delicacy.

It's a plushie. A very big and cuddly bunny. Jasper sees you hug it tightly and nuzzling with it. It seemed to pass your requirements. Before you can tell him you love it you hear something.

Footsteps. Heavy boots against the wooden floor of your home. Your father it's shouting your name, angry. Over and over again. Screaming his lungs out, demanding you to come downstairs.

Your body starts trembling once more. Gasping for air again, your eyes are locked on the door. You hold on the plushie tightly and use Jasper as a shield.

Jasper takes a protective hold of you, guarding you with his arms, his eyes pitch black. You can feel this change in attitude in him, his fangs bare and this rumbling sound, almost an animalistic growl leaves his lips.

The shadow of your father's feet stop infront of your bedroom door.

Jasper growls.

His eyebrows furrow.

He's waiting.

Waiting for your father to dare and open that door. Waiting to attack him, to lounge at him.

Yet, his hands are soft on your body, stroking your skin in a very comfortable manner, you hide your face on his chest, soaking his sweater with your silent tears. His pale fingers stroke your hair, you flinch again but notice his touch is gentle, it feels good, soothing.

But your father leaves. Like a magical change in attitude, thanks to Jasper and his gift.

"It's alright, darlin'." He whispers and kisses your forehead. His thumb wipes your tears away, you lean on his touch and let all those tears you been holding up for so many years to fall down.

Jasper caresses your cheek, he planted soft kisses on your face, his cold lips makes you feel a little tingle. He doesn't want to let go of you now.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again." He whispers with such conviction. You believe him.

You take deep breaths, the plushie it's squeezed by your arms.

You rest your head on his shoulder, his soft sweater against your cheek. Jasper covers you with a blanket, another kiss on your forehead, today they feel more special than before, healing you.

Jasper strokes your hair, a soft yawn left your lips, you snuggle against him, the plushie in between your body and his.

Another yawn and a following sniff, his fingers on your hair just feel so good, the blanket, the way he's holding you like you are the most important thing in the world. Kisses here and there on your forehead. It's so perfect. It makes you want to cry again.

You close your eyes.

Jasper's got you. You're safe with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey, hope y'all like this, I hope I did it right. Requests are still open.

[krirebr]

What You Can Do for Your Country

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1916

Summary: Being Captain America is a lot harder than anyone realizes. Steve thinks you might be able to help.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, face slapping, no smut but heavily implied future noncon, general meaness, explicit language, governmental malfeasance. It's dark, you've been warned. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

A/N: I'm not fully sure what happened here. I've been wanting to test out the waters of posting writing here for awhile, but I'd sort of had it in my head that I'd wait for a challenge that spoke to me. This is an idea I've had floating around for awhile and when it finally coalesced into something writable, I thought 'fuck it, why not?' So here we are. I'm kind of terrified that I'm just tossing this into the void, so if you read it and have a sec, please let me know what you think!

You wake up slowly. There's no sound or light, so it takes you a moment to fully realize that you’re even awake. You can't see anything, but you can feel that you're slumped in a corner and that the surface beneath you is hard. You’re definitely not in your room. Where the fuck are you? You try to move into a more comfortable position, and that's when you hear the soft jingle of metal clinking against itself and feel a slight tug on your leg. Your hands immediately go to your ankle, and you find a leather cuff around it, with a chain connected to the wall. You're fully awake now, breaths coming out in short, uneven bursts. Don't panic don’t panic, you try to tell yourself, but that mantra seems to only be making things worse. There's so much to panic about. You reassure yourself that you're still dressed. Things could be worse. The thought strikes you as unbelievably bleak.

You take a deep breath and try to focus. What's the last thing you remember? You were leaving work. The sun was setting, but it wasn’t completely dark yet. A car came up behind you? Or maybe a van? Everything's fuzzy and disjointed when you try to remember anything beyond walking out the door of the coffee shop.

A door suddenly opens into the room, closer than you expected. The space is smaller than you thought. Light floods in from the hallway, blinding you painfully and obscuring the figure stood in the doorway. They flick on a light in the room and the pain in your eyes becomes worse. You cover your face with your hands, trying to lessen the glare and help your eyes adjust. You hear a chuckle from the doorway and slowly look up at the man you can now clearly see. 

It takes a moment to recognize him out of context. But only a moment. It's Captain America. Steve Rogers. You know him. Sort of. He comes into the coffee shop sometimes, since it's right by Avengers Tower. Tall whole milk latte with a sprinkle of nutmeg. He's usually with one of the others. He's nice, tips well, friendly. As friendly as he is with anyone he comes across. It's kind of his whole thing. Of course he's nice to everyone, he's Captain America. Big smile, patriotism, and apple pie. All that jazz. What is going on?

At first, your desperate heart thinks that he must be there to rescue you. But then you actually take him in. He's not in his uniform, but dressed casually, in a white t-shirt and jeans, barefoot, his arms crossed over his massive chest, leaning on the door frame. 

And he's smirking at you. 

"Good, you're awake," Steve says, voice calm and even, but there's a hardness in the way he looks at you that has you trying to cower further into the corner as he approaches. There's nowhere to go and it only takes a few strides for him to get to you. Now that you can see your surroundings, you seem to be in some sort of cleared out walk-in closet. There are bare shelves on the walls and two empty hanging rods line the longer sides of the room. He crouches down in front of you. "I wasn't sure how long you'd be out."

You want to scream at him to let you go, ask what the fuck is going on, something but instead what comes out is a pathetic "Please don’t hurt me!" 

His face completely softens and he coos "Oh sweetheart," as he brushes away a tear you hadn’t realized you'd shed. Maybe you got this wrong. Maybe he is here to help you. Maybe it's going to be al– "What else do you think you're for?"

And then, before you've even had time to process what he's said, he slaps you across the face. Hard enough to make you slump back into the wall, uselessly cradling your cheek, tears streaming down your face freely now. You've seen enough clips on TV to know he didn't put his full strength into it and that, more than anything else that's happened so far, has you so terrified you can barely breathe. 

Steve tips his head back and briefly closes his eyes, growling out an elongated "Fuuck." He touches the hot spot where he hit you and gives a satisfied smile when you flinch and whimper. "I was right," he mutters to himself. "This is exactly what I needed." 

You’ve never really felt like an especially small person, but even crouched like this, he dwarfs you. Up close you’re able to really appreciate how gigantic he is and it makes any fight left in you completely disappear. What are you supposed to do, up against a super soldier?

But you also can’t just completely give in yet, so when his hand starts to wander from your cheek down your neck and to your chest, you do your best to bat it away and put as much strength as you can into your “Don’t touch me!” 

When that same hand comes up to roughly grab your chin, you try to avoid him, but you’re shown once more that there’s really nothing you can do. Steve squeezes cruelly as he says “You are going to figure out very quickly that ��don’t’ is a word you're not allowed to use with me. Along with no, stop, and wait. You’re mine now and I can do whatever I want with you.” 

He lets go of you with a slight push and the back of your head hits the wall. You let out a whimper and he chuckles again. You finally give into your confusion and let out a quiet “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he says, and this time you recognize how that word drips with condescension. “This must be so hard for a stupid little thing like you.” He brushes your hair off your forehead with an exaggerated pout, and you don’t get how this could be the same man that always made a point to ask how your day was going whenever he ordered from you.

He stands up so that he’s truly towering over you now. “You have no idea how hard it is to be Captain America,” he says, “to always be expected to do the right thing, to be good and kind and wholesome,” he snarls the last word. “It’s impossible to keep up without losing your goddamn mind. I can’t just be a symbol of all things patriotic  and virtuous all the time. I’m a real person, not a fucking bald eagle. It's becoming a problem.” He looks down at you and smiles the most terrifying smile you’ve ever seen. “That’s where you come in. There are some days when I just need to hurt something. So now, every bad mood, impure thought or filthy desire I have, I’ll just take it out on you. And then I’ll be able to go back into the world and be the Captain America they need me to be.”

You just stare at him, wondering how you’ve never noticed it before. This man is insane. An actual sociopath. What kind of plan is this? This isn’t– no! “You can’t just do that!” You argue. “I’m a person, too! I have a family, a job, a life! People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me.” 

Steve laughs outright this time, and it’s startling in how cruel it is. There’s really nothing of the man you thought you knew in the one standing in front of you. He crouches down again and gets so close to you that you can feel his breath. “Oh baby, you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you?” He turns his head slightly to whisper right in your ear, “Everyone already knows what’s happened to you.” He leans back so that he can see the horror on your face. How is that possible? It can’t be.

“You really think I just grabbed you off the street, all by myself? Oh no honey. I went through official channels for this. I requisitioned you. I meant it when I said it was becoming a problem. I’ve been… slipping, lately. And when I slip, it doesn’t just affect me or my team, but the entire country. It affects the fate of the entire free world. So when the president himself came to me and asked what I needed to get my head on straight, I told him what I’ve told you. A pretty little thing to hurt and I gave him your name. And so you were delivered to me today by a fleet of government vehicles. Your family’s been well compensated. They’ll never have to pay taxes again, for a start. And you, I’ve given you an incredible purpose. A chance to serve your country, a chance to help all of humanity. Everytime I’m able to go out and save the world, it’ll be because you’re here, serving me. You should take pride in that.”

You can’t help starting to cry again. This can’t be true. It just can’t be. Your family can’t have– No. Steve’s lying or they didn’t have a choice or– “Why me?” is all you’re able to eke out from the jumble in your head. 

“Because every time I went into that coffee shop and you looked up at me with those big eyes and that sweet smile, all I could think about was how badly you needed to be ruined. Broken. And how I wanted to be the one to do it.” 

You let out a sob at that. You always thought that when it came down to it, fight was your fear response. But now you understand, you’d never been truly afraid before. In the face of real, hopeless terror, all you can do is freeze. There’s nothing else to do. You can’t fight him. You can’t run. No one is looking for you. You’ve never felt so powerless in your life. You’re pathetic and weak. That’s what Steve saw in you, isn’t it? That’s why you’re here.

“Those tears are so pretty, baby. Got me so fucking hard.” He stands up with a slap to his thighs. “Alright, enough talk. I’ve waited too fucking long for this.” He walks to the opposite wall and gestures to you. “Get up, take off your clothes. I’ve been dreaming about what’s under that uniform.” You cry out and huddle further into the wall, but he clucks his tongue at you. “Trust me when I say that you don’t want me to have to tell you twice.”

You nod needlessly and get up, your legs shaking underneath you. You throw off your shirt just to get it over with and push down your pants until they get stuck on the chain. You pause at your underwear, but a growled out, “Keep going,” has you robotically removing them as well. 

You try to cover yourself, but know that it’s useless. He paces in front of you and groans. “Fuck, you’re so soft. You’re gonna break so good, baby.” He takes off his shirt and throws it on top of your own, his muscles rippling with the movement. You can’t help the whimper that comes out and Steve grins at you as he approaches, hands beginning to unbuckle his belt. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll teach you exactly how to be the perfect little toy for me.”

[yesihaveaobsession]

I Hate You

Alastor x ex wife ! reader

Summary: We all know what Alastor did when he was alive and one time he cheated on you, well you meet your ex-husband in Hell.

Warning: mention of Al killing and cheating and language.

A/N- I know he's ace but shush, THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE

You and he were married back on Earth. He would often leave in the middle of the night, citing work. You believed him. However, one night, you discovered that your daring husband had cheated on you with a girl from a jazz club. This was the same daring husband who had assured you on your wedding night that he would never cheat.

Now, here you were in hell, and you saw him. Your instincts urged you to walk the other way, and that's what you did. Alastor saw you and followed. You found yourself speed walking. His tall legs made it easier for him to catch up, and he grabbed your wrist, his large claw covering your delicate hand.

"Let me go," you said, fighting him slightly. But he didn't. The deer demon pulled you and turned you towards him. Your ex-husband still loomed over you as you looked up into his red eyes. He leaned down until your faces were close.

"You lied," you whispered. Alastor just looked at you. "You said on our wedding night that you would never cheat on me, and on top of that, you lied to me about where you went every night." He remained silent.

"Asshole," you said, hurt evident. You managed to turn away and escape from his grasp, walking away again.

"Wait..."

"Fuck you," you said, not even stopping to look at him. You had thought he was the man of your dreams. After all, you two were high school sweethearts, and this is how he treated you?

"Just hear me out," he said, still with his radio filter and a smile he didn't want right now. He wanted to frown, but he couldn't. "I married a serial killer." You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. Those words stabbed him right in the chest; they stung.

"I can't change the past," he sighed. You shook your head. "And you cheated on me," your voice filled with venom and hurt.

"If I could go back, I would," he said. Did he regret all the things he did? You didn't believe him and kept walking. Alastor grabbed your arm again.

"Alastor, I swear to—" you began, but he cut you off, pulling you closer. You looked at him, and he leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart.

"I hate you," you said, breaking the silence.

"I know," is all the deer demon said. Your eyes searched his, and you saw something, maybe nobody else could, but you could.

"Were you planning on hurting me when we were alive?" you inquired. He stayed silent, which stabbed you in the back. "Al?" you said.

"Yes, dear?"

"You were?"

He hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"You would hurt your dear wife?" you choked, stepping backward, but he only took another step toward you, causing you to crane your head back to look at him.

"I was going to," he said with a sigh.

"Why? What did I do?" Tears welled in your eyes. He knew he broke you.

"No," he tried to wipe your tears. "I was the problem," he said.

"I tried to help you."

"You did, and I love you for it, but I never deserved you," he said, trying to lift your chin. You looked into his red eyes, then at his lips. Alastor found himself leaning in closer, placing his claws firmly on your hips. You paused.

"Are you still killing people?" you asked.

The Radio Demon nodded. "For a good cause."

"How so?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"Rehabilitation."

"You're helping Charlie?"

Alastor nodded, and you found yourself backed up and pinned against the side of a building. He leaned in so your bodies were touching. You looked at his lips. Alastor leaned in and placed his lips on yours, and you kissed back.

He looked into your eyes. "Please, just one more moment with me."

"What do you mean, Al?"

"Just one more kiss, then I'll let you go," he said, his breath fanning against your face.

"No, I don't want you to let me go," you whispered.

"You're mine, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good." He pulled you closer, and you two kissed again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SONG I WAS LISTENING TO:

[the-kr8tor]

Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)

(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)

I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.

Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.

A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.

“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.

—

You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.

You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.

Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.

“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”

“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.

“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”

“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.

“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”

“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.

Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”

—

There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.

“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”

You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.

“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.

Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.

“H-how’d you get here?”

“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”

“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.

“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.

You clear your throat, “nothing.”

Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.

His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.

You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.

“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.

“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.

“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”

“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”

“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”

Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.

“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”

“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”

Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.

“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”

“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.

He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.

As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 3 - C’est Un Gars

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none... just some instant attraction and flirting ;)

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when reader and Benedict finally meet. Yep, that's the whole chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Benedict doesn't turn up the next day. Or the day after that. Some snag with travel arrangements that Eloise doesn't explain, and you don't pry. You suspect she championed any excuse for him to delay his trip. But it does mean his arrival is not particularly front of your mind as the days slip by.

It's a week later - after an exhausting workday in uncomfortable shoes - when you get home and notice the door is unlocked. Assuming it's Eloise, you enter the apartment distractedly, reading a flyer you picked up on your journey home.

“El, did you see this?” you call out without looking up, dropping your bag as you unbuckle your T-strap heel, the relief to your foot palpable, flinging the first aside. “There is a new jazz night in Montmartre… I think we should go, seeing as your troublesome brother is never turning up…”

“He is actually…” a refined, resonant voice calls out from across the room with a wry tone. There, silhouetted by the bright window, is the outline of a tall man.

You stumble in shock, twisting your ankle quite heavily as you remove the last shoe, and he rushes forward to your aid, large hands grasping your waist, stopping you from falling down and righting your stance. His hold is gone as soon as you are stable. 

Discombobulated and embarrassed, you find yourself staring up into the most handsome face you have ever seen in your twenty-two years on earth, tongue-tied and awkwardly holding your right shoe. Not the introduction you would want with anyone.

“Benedict?” you squeak, mouth rapidly running dry.

“The very same,” his acknowledging smile is crooked, and something gallops hard through your chest. “Y/n, I presume?”

All you can do is nod. You can see the family resemblance - chestnut hair, blue eyes, a proud jaw - but damn if this is not the most fetching male version of Eloise’s prettiness. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looks very dashing in a royal blue three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and burgundy and gold striped tie. 

“Are you alright?” his forehead creases in concern as he nods to your ankle.

“I… I think so?” you stutter. There is a slight throb there, but it's almost background to the riot in the rest of your body at the very sight of this man. 

Oh god, Eloise is going to disown me…  

Her warning from last week is ringing in your ears as you attempt a step but can't hide the wince at the bloom of pain as your weight transfers.

“Hmmm, I think that's a no,” he hums. “Come, take my arm, let's get you seated and this foot raised…..”

And so you find yourself clinging to the arm he offers, feeling the latent power under the layers of fabric as he provides a solid brace to lean on. Still a touch mortified, you drop onto the sofa as elegantly as you can, raising your ankle onto the coffee table and sighing with relief. You don't miss how his eyes linger briefly on your stockinged leg before he bustles over to your refrigerator and grabs a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. 

“Here, this should help,” he explains as he walks back. 

“Drink until it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you guess drolly. 

His responding laugh is warm and crinkles his eyes so beguilingly. “Stop the swelling,” he explains as he slides to sit on the coffee table next to your leg and presses the bottle against your ankle. 

You hiss gently behind your teeth, the coolness seeping through your stocking. Your eyes meet, and you swear his dilate a fraction, the hand not holding the bottle wrapping around the inside of your ankle to align your foot better, long elegant fingers cupping your arch. Just that simple touch is enough to make your pulse race. Something about this man feels electric. Like standing beside a humming pylon, an energy coursing through you.

“It’s nice to finally meet the artist,” you murmur, gesturing to the artwork you know so well now.

His eyes track to the painting, and his face lights up. “You like it?” his tone so hopeful.

“It's beautiful,” you confess, a tingle where you can feel the warmth of his fingers flexing around your foot, contrasting to the cold of the bottle.

“Thank you,” he demures, bowing his head and looking up at you through his lashes, a dot of colour high on his cheekbones.

“What the….”

You both twist to see Eloise standing in the doorway, mouth agape. Benedict’s hand flinches away from your foot, and you realise it must look more incriminating from her angle, unable to see the cold compress. All she sees is him sitting on the coffee table, grasping your leg as you talk softly to each other….

“El! Hi!” you call, attempting a breezy tone, “I tripped on my way in, and Benedict here was just helping me. I’m okay,” you add preemptively.

He jumps up from the coffee table and indeed indicates your injury. Eloise nods to acknowledge it, then narrows her eyes at him before walking over and giving him a quick embrace, kissing his cheek.

“Hello, brother. I was hoping you would never show up,” she greets sardonically.

“Hello, little sister, always such a warm welcome…” he drawls.

You can’t help but giggle at their exchange, and both seem pleased to have entertained you, twinkles in their similar eyes.

“Well, this rather scuppers tonight’s dancing plans…” Eloise motions at your ankle.

“You and Solene go without me. Why not take Benedict, too?!”

“I’ve had a full day of travel. I’d rather not…” he confesses when Eloise looks at him expectantly.

“Spoilsport,” she rolls her eyes. “Where are you staying?” 

“I haven’t booked anywhere...” he confesses, looking a touch sheepish. as you clock a suitcase against the wall. 

“Well then, your choices are to find a hotel now or sleep on our sofa,” she shrugs. 

“If it means it will get you packed quicker, I’ll stay right here,” he answered pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

“Brother, have you ever been to Paris before?” You can tell Eloise is winding up for one of her persuasions with that opening gambit, so you chuckle and relax back into the sofa, crossing your arms, about to enjoy the show.

“Is this going to be a two-minute or a ten-minute Eloise soliloquy?” he misdirects dryly, catching your eye and winking, which makes your heart skip.

Undeterred by both of your reactions, Eloise launches into her argument. “I know for a fact you haven’t, so let me say this. You are an artist. This is the art capital of the world. It would literally be irresponsible for you not to stay a while. Enjoy the galleries. Soak up the atmosphere. Get inspired. Hell, y/n here works in a gallery and has quite the encyclopedic knowledge of all the artists on display in the city - a literal font of knowledge…” As she extols your virtues, his eyes cut to you, an admiration and curiosity in them that makes your lungs feel tight, “…I would personally judge you for not staying. At least a week? Maybe two…”

“Delay tactics, El,” he sighs, but even you can see him wavering.

“Paris may not always be here, at least not as it is now,” you append, unwilling to look at him as you say it, looking out across the rooftops wistfully. “The art truly is spectacular, and if war comes to its doorstep in the next few months, who knows what could happen? You may regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t experience at least some of it.” Your focus back in the room as you look upon his art again. “Someone who paints something that beautiful deserves to see the old European masters up close…” you end on a shrug.

His gaze feels heavy like a cloak as Eloise waves her hands towards you. “Yeah… THAT,” she adds with finality.

Benedict sighs and tips his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows heavily.

“Fine. Three days,” he capitulates. “But, Eloise, you must be packed and ready to leave by then. I mean it. I don’t need Mother’s wrath about this…” his warning avuncular.

“Promise,” she smirks, before grinning and whooping in victory, doing a little jig as he shakes his head with exasperated affection.

“Prêt à aller?”  Solene's face appears around the doorframe, her face made up for a night out.

“Not for me,” you pout as she opens the door fully. “ I twisted my ankle. But I’m pretty sure Eloise wants a bit more victory dance time,” you smile as Eloise nods furiously, still swaying. 

They all offer to help you to your room, but you steadfastly refuse, confident you can hobble to bed when the time comes. Wishing them all well, you’re looking forward to some quiet alone time after an eventful day. 

—

Half an hour later, you are reading a book and feasting on brie and crackers when there is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in?” your call is tentative, unsure who might be knocking this late.

You frown as a key jangles in the door, then a warm flush down your spine as Benedict appears in the doorway, suitcase in hand.

“Eloise gave me a spare key. The hotel is fully booked for tonight,” he grimaces apologetically. 

“Sofa it is?”

“Appears so…”

“So there’s only one hotel in the whole of Paris, then?” you tease softly as he removes his hat and drops his case.

“Only one in close enough proximity to ensure Eloise doesn’t have time to pack and up and abscond to god know where before I can intervene, yes…” that crooked grin reappearing.

“I’d never let her do that!” you gasp in mock outrage. “At least not without taking me too….”

He laughs heartily and moves to the counter to grab two wine glasses and a bottle opener, asking silently with an eyebrow raise if you want to join in, which you enthusiastically agree to.

“What will you do? When we leave?” He asks over the glugging sound of the glasses being filled. 

“My family has told me to move up my return sailing to as soon as possible…” you can’t hide the disappointment in your tone. “I know I should do it… I just…”

“…Don’t want to give up on something before you even know how much you need it?” He guesses as he hands you a glass.

You are momentarily floored by how accurately he has pinpointed your feelings.

“Yes,” your reply is quiet but emphatic, a jolt to your being as your fingers brush while taking the drink, “that’s exactly it!”

“I understand…” and there is a world of empathy in his tone, raising his glass in silent toast, which you mirror. “But time isn’t on your side…” he reminds after a sip, “a few weeks, months if we are lucky, and Paris may well be invaded.”

“England too…” 

“Perhaps, indeed. So you should go. Be safe. Back home to America…”

“What if that’s the very last thing I want?” your whisper is more fervent than you intended.

“That sounds more like a reason you don’t want to go than a reason you want to stay,” he surmises, again frighteningly on target with his assessment of your feelings, almost as if he’s in tune with them somehow. “But yet… Eloise said you’re engaged?” he aims for nonchalant, but you could swear there is dejection too.

“Sort of…” a wave of guilt crashing into you as your thoughts slide to Stanley. Good, reliable, comfortable, safe Stanley.

“How does one become ‘sort of’ engaged?” he frowns bemused, using air quotes. 

“Growing up down the street from someone your age whose father happens to be your own father's best friend and business partner?”

“Oh…” there’s a pause, “you’re not being pressured, are you?” his query filled with concern. It makes your ribs glow that he might even care.

“No… just… a life plotted out,” you echo the words Eloise threw at you on your first night here.

“And it’s not the life you want…?”

“I used to think so…,” you sigh, eyes cutting to the side as you feel a swell of a tear forming.

“You have the right to change your mind,” Benedict attests softly as you twirl your glass between your fingers. “You don’t owe anyone else your happiness.”

You want to climb into his lap, grab his jaw and kiss him senseless. The impulse so strong you can feel a tingle where his stubble would abrade your lips if you did so. Suddenly worried you'll act recklessly if you stay any longer, you rise to your feet, make your excuses and limp mildly to your room… laying in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time before sleep claims you.

–

It's the middle of the night when you awaken thirsty and decide to get a glass of water, your ankle much better from the laydown. Half-asleep, you wander out of your room, fumbling towards the kitchen area, when you almost trip for an entirely different reason. Well, perhaps the same reason you tripped in the first place.

There on the sofa, in a shaft of moonlight, is Benedict, fast asleep; his face is so peaceful in repose. But that is not where your eye lingers. He is topless, a blanket pooled around his waist, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. And you cannot look away. He is all smooth planes of skin peppered with occasional moles that your fingertips itch to trace patterns between. His shoulders are indeed broad without a suit, and it's obvious he is somewhat of an athlete; the play of muscle and ribcage as he breathes deep utterly entrancing. It's so completely different to how Stanley looks - hairy and stout - that you drift closer without realising it, drawn to the sight. It's the closest you’ve seen to a breathing Statue of David, a shape you didn't think real humans came in…. until now. 

So much so you don't even realise when his eyes flutter open, just transfixed by how his breathing pattern appears to change the flex of his abdominals.

“Are you alright?” his voice is a rough whisper and you startle. His eyes seem to focus, and you notice they flit down your body before he seems to stop himself.

“Sorry,” you stumble in apology, feeling your face flushing violently as your eyes fly to his face, then look away, embarrassed to be caught ogling so obviously.

“Do you need anything?” 

Yes, to run my tongue over that divot right there… your mind screams.

“No, no... I just came out to get some water and worried you might be cold uncovered,” you bluster. “I was going to cover you up, but you awoke before I could….” 

You are mildly impressed you can come up with an excuse as your heart pounds in your ears. Benedict’s face morphs into an intriguing mix of knowing, lopsided smile and bashfulness, pointedly pulling up the covers until they are tucked under his chin.

“Better?” he rumbles, and you could swear it is with a teasing lilt.

“Much…” you nod before awkwardly turning away.

“Y/n…” he calls softly, and you look at him over your shoulder, a flutter in your belly as you catch him glancing at your bottom.

“What…?”

“I'm glad your ankle seems better,” he offers softly.

“It is, thanks to you…”

“De rien…” his response, low and deep, in a flawless French accent, makes goosebumps break out over your arms.

Damn you, Benedict Bridgerton.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[megamindsecretlair]

Been an (Awful) Good Girl

Pairing: Rich!Tre x Babygirl!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

*This is separate from Mr. Black but with a similar style. Can be read as a future imagine for these two.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This shit rated PORN. Established relationship. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering and oral (fem receiving), edging, orgasm control, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, size kink, daddy and breeding kink if you squint, roleplaying as Santa, all consensual.

Summary: Tre has taken you away to a cabin in the mountains for a romantic getaway. He roleplays as Santa so he can shimmy down your chimney.

Word Count: 4,653k

A/N: Chile, ya'll can blame this good ass edible and @planetblaque for this one! Sweet lordt. I had to take SEVERAL breaks. Don't look at me for this one. I'm not responsible for what the jazz cabbage provides. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist if you're interested about Mr. Black!

Tagging the folks who love Mr. Black: @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @pinkpantheris @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @prettypink-princesss @westside-rot @the-crystal-one

A heavy thud made you gasp with excitement and fear as you headed down the stairs. A man dressed as Santa bent over near the Christmas tree, inspecting the presents there and leaving a few more. You tip-toed further down the stairs until you reached the bottom landing, placing your hand on your hips.

“I hope you’re leaving a good present for me,” you said. 

Santa straightened up and turned around slowly, revealing a thick ebony-skinned man. He wore Santa pants with unlaced black boots. Santa’s coat hung open revealing a wide expanse of sexy midnight skin. Rock hard abs was under a subtle layer of fat. There was a Santa hat hanging loosely on his head. He was a man. 

God and it killed you every day that you got to love on this man. That he was yours to do whatever you wanted with. 

“That depends. Have you been a good girl?” The deep timbre of his voice only added to how aroused you were. When he suggested this getaway to a mountain cabin, you thought that he was out of his rabbit ass mind. Black folk didn’t “do” cabins. 

However, you couldn’t resist all the things he’d been teasing you with all week. Every day, he’d whisper something else naughty that he was going to do to you leading up to Christmas. He detailed everything he was going to do as if it were its own treasured present.

All week, he had been edging you, playing with the outermost edges of your clit and pussy. He’d get you so hot and bothered that you thought you’d cum from his voice alone. No matter how many times you begged and pleaded, he refused to allow you to cum. He would whisper all kinds of dirty shit.

When you got to the cabin, he stayed true to his word. Except that he’d edged you more. You were sexually frustrated and you wanted dick right now. 

“I’ve been an awful good girl,” you said with a sultry grin. 

Santa absently rubbed his stomach as he crooked his finger and you walked closer to him. 

He had done a good job of getting the cabin ready for you both. He did all the research, ran it by you for approval, and set to work getting it set up for Christmas. The tree was understated and beautiful with copper and blue baubles. A Black angel in gold robes sat atop the tree with lights lit in her hands. 

He had a fire going in the hearth now, warming the entire first floor. It was a good thing too. You were not accustomed to the freezing temperatures in the mountains. The day time wasn’t so bad. But at night? You were shivering your ass off upstairs. 

Santa licked his lips as you approached, looking over your outfit for the day. You practically cackled while you were in the store, spending all his money on lingerie. Tonight, you chose a forest green teddy, with gold straps across your hips. It showed off the planes of your belly and connected in the back. It was flimsy and you felt incredibly sexy in it. 

By the look in his eyes, it was very much appreciated. He grabbed your hand and made you do a spin for him. You moved your hips dramatically, like a model to show him exactly what he’s been teasing all week. 

“Good girls usually stay sleep when Santa comes to visit,” he said. He pulled your hips backwards so that your ass could grind into his hard dick. You bit your lip and suppressed a shudder. You were so needy, you’d suck his dick till the morning if only he’d let you cum already. He grazed your left ear with his teeth.

“I’m too curious,” you said.

He chuckled and you felt the vibration down your back. Did this man have any clue how fucking sexy he was? He had to. He had to know that you were down bad for him. 

“Too curious about your presents? That’s very naughty,” he said, drawing out the word. His teeth on your ear were sending electrical currents straight to your pussy. You ached. You needed stimulation and you were tired of waiting. He was a mean asshole but he wasn’t typically this cruel. You didn’t know which side of the bed he woke up on, but he needed to switch up real quick before you got pissed and didn’t want to play anymore. 

You took a few deep breaths to calm down. You were too excited. Your teddy was already growing damp. That was just at the promise of dick. 

“I’ve been good all year. Can’t I take a little peak?” You asked.

“Hmm, how ‘bout you come sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want. Let’s see if Santa got it right this year,” he said in your ear. 

He stepped away from you and dragged a chair closer. The cabin was so quaint and adorable like all them cheesy ass Hallmark movies. The chair was antique, lovingly restored with a dark stain on it. You were nervous to defile it so crudely, but whatever. Shit wasn’t going to last forever.

He sat down and slapped your ass. You shrieked, not expecting the bite of pain. You looked over your shoulder at him and he gave you a saucy wink. He spread his legs wide enough for you to squeeze your luscious body in between. You sat on his lap, feeling his dick again. You were turned on, he was turned on, was all of this really necessary? 

You knew better than to question him. Once he got an idea in his head, it took damn near a miracle to get him to switch it up. 

The fabric of his clothes were plush. You settled on his lap and he pulled your hips back until you were all the way on him. He tapped your thighs to get you to hang them over his, leaving you just as spread as he was. More so, since your legs dangled outside of his. 

The heat of the fireplace slammed into you, fighting with the heat from inside of you. Your breaths were growing too ragged and painful in your chest. “Nuh-uh, breathe baby girl,” he said. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” 

He was right. He thought he was always right but in this instance, he really was right. You took deep breaths, looking into the real flames behind the black grate. Santa’s hands rubbed over your thighs and you gasped, jerking away from him. 

He continued to rub your thighs, getting you used to his touch. If you didn’t calm down soon, you were going to burst into little tiny pieces. His hands worked inwards, getting closer to your pussy and you began to grind on his dick. You used the arm rests for support.

You couldn’t help it. You needed to move, to ride. You needed some damn friction. “Tell Santa what you wanted this year. Anything that pops into that pretty empty head,” he said in your ear.

He returned to nibbling on it. You started and stopped multiple times. The heat began to duel in earnest now, sweat gathering on your forehead and in between your breasts. “Since I’ve been so good, I want a new car,” you said. 

He knew you had a really hard time asking for shit. He made good money and he liked taking care of you but every single purchase was a small battle of wills. You always lost, but he was getting sick of the guilt you felt over each purchase. 

His project this year was to get you to ask for the most outrageous things so that his gifts were “small” in comparison. Last year, his project was to make you rest. He whisked you away for an entire year and refused to let you do anything but sleep and hop on his dick. 

“What kind of car?” He asked. “Be specific.” 

You whimpered as his pinky fingers played with the very edge of your teddy. It skimmed the sensitive skin in the crease of your legs and you gyrated again, unable to stop. 

“I-I want a Range Rover Evoque, Black, 2024 model,” you said. He moved his fingers closer. If he went a bit farther, his fingers would finally rub on your clit. 

You were having a hard time breathing. You were out of air as your brain turned fuzzy. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Maybe it was how turned on you were. You weren’t sure and didn’t care to know.

“Tell Santa why you want it,” he said. 

You weren’t sure it was safe for a human body to contain so much heat. You flushed with it, as if it were a wall of pressure inside of you. You huffed. “It’s simple and unassuming. But has all wheel drive that I can take anywhere,” you said.

“Where you trynna go?” He asked.

“To our winter house in Northern France. A chateau with a huge green house I can visit and walk around all the new plants. Then it has to have a garden too. So big I could get lost in it,” you moaned.

He moved his fingers over the lace covering your clit. That tiny strip of fabric was all that separated you from his fingers. You wished the fireplace would leap out a tiny flame and burn the fabric away. You hated being teased and the bastard knew it. 

“That’s my girl,” he said. He moved his right hand and slipped it under your teddy. He groaned when he burrowed his fingers in between your soaked folds. 

“I don’t know. You still might end up on the naughty list. Do good girls let Santa play with their pussy?” He asked.

You nodded and shivered. Tingles shot up and down your thighs. Your toes curled around his calves. He was trying to kill you. He was actively committing murder and you were letting him. “Yes. Santa has to be taken care of too, right?” You asked. 

“What if I had a Mrs. Clause?” He asked.

“Then she’d be having a very lonely Christmas considering it’s my pussy you’re playing with,” you said. 

Santa chuckled and removed his fingers. “Wait! No!” You cried. 

He moaned while he licked his lips. Smacked his lips. “Good girls don’t have filthy mouths, baby girl,” he said. 

“Wait, I’m sorry. I’ll be good!” 

“Tell me what else you want and maybe I’ll go back to playing with it,” he said.

You grunted in frustration. You were going to get his ass back for this. When he least expected it. Maybe the next time he showered, you were going to drop to your knees and suck him to the point of cumming. Then you were going to stop and make him suffer like he made you suffer all week.

The thought helped you plan your next ask. “I want a private island. With a private plane I can take whenever I want,” you said. 

“A private island, huh? With on site staff?” He asked.

“Yes!” You ground into him based on that hit of gravel in his throat. He wasn’t entirely immune to what you were doing. He liked to act a big game, but he wasn’t made of steel. Although with that thing between his legs…

“What you gon’ do with this private island?” He asked.

“Walk on the beach naked,” you said with a grin. He couldn’t see you, but your words hit their mark. His hips slipped forward. He chuckled. 

“Oh, we got jokes tonight,” he said. 

You shuddered. “Fuck,” you panted. “I will walk around naked, get in the water naked. I might even lay on my beach and fuck myself with my fingers.”  You moved your hand to do just that. Fuck him. He pushed you too far this time. 

His fingers searched for your wet heat, pushing inside and you cried out. You leaned your head back, leaning on his shoulder. You were at an odd angle, your back curved a touch too far. You didn’t care. He was finally touching you.

Your pussy clenched around his fingers as he dipped three in at once. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck,” you moaned. Your right hand reached back to grip his bicep. The muscles squeezed and you held on by digging your nails in. 

“I can definitely deliver on some of them things. But I think what I got you is much better. That’s if I decide you’ve been good,” he said. 

You didn’t give a fuck what he said. You were grinding on his fingers while he pumped them inside you. Your arousal made you grip his fingers and he groaned at the extra pressure. “Nahh, you been too naughty. Talking back, disobeying orders, potty mouth.” 

You whined. “Please, I’ll do anything,” you panted. 

“Anything?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded, wiggling your hips. Fuck! His fingers weren’t enough! 

“Sit on my face then,” he said. 

Your hips stuttered as his words sunk in. He couldn’t be serious. “I don’t want to squish–”

“I die, I die,” he said.

You laughed despite yourself. “I’d miss you too much if you did,” you said. Fuck. You wanted his dick and he wasn’t going to make it easy. How did he know you so well? 

“Okay, okay,” you agreed. Fuck it. Santa chuckled as he withdrew his fingers again. He sucked on them, groaning at your taste. The small room was filled with the scent of your arousal. The thick musk tickled your nose. You felt naughty as hell. Okay, maybe there was something to this role playing business. 

You stood up and the chair scooted across the hardwood floor, grooves be damned. Before the hearth, there was a thick bearskin rug. On top of it, there were two other thick blankets with smooth downy fabric. 

You knelt down while Santa joined you. He got onto his back. The Santa jacket and boots had come off. His skin flickered with the light of the flames. Shadows played across his chest. You licked your lips as you straddled his chest. He scooted down while you scooted upwards towards his mouth.

Nerves made your hands shake and thighs quake. Your pussy moved over his face and he adjusted himself beneath you. He pressed his nose into your wet core and breathed deeply. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. He flicked his thumb over the thin material before yanking your teddy to the side.

“Shit’s so fucking creamy, baby girl,” he said.

You moaned while he pulled you down onto his face. You tried to use your knees to hover, but he was yanking you down anyway so that you literally sat on his face. His tongue started to move, flexing with his jaw. He was in it deep already. His thick beard rubbed your pussy and you moaned uncontrollably. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned. Your hands dropped to his head. Your body started to move, riding his face. You were flooding his face with your arousal. It practically dripped out of you and onto his chin, into his beard, and into his mouth. 

He moaned while he ate you out. The vibrations made his lips tingle. Pressed against your clit just so, you twitched and were shaking out your release. Your moans bounced in the cozy cabin. You screamed it all out. Such undiluted pleasure had you seeing through the roof and into the starry night sky. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Santa continued to slurp up your essence. The loud sucking made your pussy flutter. “So fuckin’ creamy, shit,” he moaned. Harsh breaths escaped him and you felt slightly guilty. However, not too guilty because fuck that was amazing.

You didn’t have to worry about crushing him or wondering when he would tap out with an apology. Your head was silent for once. You were just a vessel for pleasure and at his mercy. 

“Roll over,” he said. 

You climbed off of him and flipped onto your back. He moved and leaned up onto his knees, scooting in between your legs and dropped his pants. He pressed his massive thighs against yours, pushing you nearly in half. 

He laid down into a push-up style position. His hands were on either side of you, pushing your thighs down even more against your body. He wiggled his hips and the tip of his dick swung lazily over your pussy.

“Oh please, baby. Please, please,” you begged with an edge of panic. 

Your feet dangled over his shoulders and you pushed them inward, wrapped around his head. He finally lined up perfectly, and began to sink in slowly.

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Fuck, me!” You moaned. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned tiredly. 

He ought to be fucking tired from all that teasing he did! You bit your lip to keep from cursing him till kingdom come. He knew how long and thick he was. He knew he needed to get you sopping wet before even attempting this shit. But a week? A week of fucking teasing? 

Your tight hole squeezed his dick and he moaned, stopping about halfway in. “Breathe for me, baby girl. Breathe and let me into that sexy pussy,” he coaxed with a deep rumble in his chest.

You took deep breaths and willed your body to relax. You were just so excited, you didn’t know how you were still conscious. You relaxed enough for him to keep sliding in deeper. You jerked and moaned as he kissed your cervix. You grunted and groaned, a delicious burn working its way around the edges of your pussy. 

Fully seated, he stopped and let you adjust around him. He didn’t wait long to pull out and then slide back in, rougher. Your thighs slapped together like a thunderclap. You panted and your legs shook over his shoulders. 

Your hands flew to your knees to keep them closed around him. Otherwise, your legs would drop open and he’d split you in half. On second thought…

You let your knees fall open, opening you wider. Santa grinned, looking between your bodies at where you joined. His jaw worked, gathering spit, and spat on your pussy. An inhuman glint entered his eye as he fucked it into you.

Your moans continued to get louder as he slammed roughly into you. That long dick speared you from the inside out. But he was immediately hitting your G-spot. Your moans turned feral and animalistic as you felt indescribable pleasure. 

Your thighs made loud and filthy smacks the harder he clapped your pussy. You gushed on his dick and the sticky suction noise joined the symphony of filth. 

“I’m-I’m-I,” you couldn’t speak.

“That’s okay. You let me worry about that. Don’t you want me to feel it?” 

You nodded and blinked into his eyes. He looked down at you. “Aww, look at you letting me hit this fuckin’ raw. You been such a filthy slut this year,” he said. 

“Shit,” you moaned. 

“You hear how hard I’m beating this shit?” He asked. 

You could only nod. He licked his lips as he looked at your bouncing breasts, barely held in check by the teddy. “Pussy talkin’ hella loud.”

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You were shaking badly now, twisting and writhing beneath him. 

“Mhm, keep talkin’. Keep talkin’ to me.” 

You finally let go, the orgasm wrapping a giant hand around you and squeezed the very breath from your lungs. Your mouth worked, but all you let out was a strangled, incoherent moan. 

“There it is. Ou, feelin’ so fuckin’ good. You such a filthy little slut, ain’t you? Gettin’ dick from Santa this year. Let me hear that pussy screamin’ for me,” he said. 

Your chest continuously caved in as you screamed with pleasure. Screamed to the heavens above that you were getting phenomenal dick that constantly emptied your head of all thoughts. You operated on pure feeling now. The deep, long strong of his dick. The slap of his thighs on yours. His groans and grunts as he watched himself disappear inside of you. 

You shook violently on your way down. You pouted a bit. He didn’t cum. You stuck your bottom lip out and he grinned. He leaned down into the pushup, pressing his lips to yours. He dominated your kiss, running his tongue in a circle around your lips. Then he dived his tongue inside. You still faintly smelled yourself on his breath. 

“You think I’m done with you?” His lips hovered above yours and you whined, wanting to continue kissing him. He lowered but before your lips fully connected, he leaned back. You chased his mouth but he leaned too far away.

You turned puppy dog eyes towards him and stuck out your bottom lip again. He chuckled. He bit your bottom lip and pulled. His hips still worked roughly against you, fucking into you with reckless abandon. 

“You’ve been a naughty girl this year,” he began to kiss down your body. He licked certain parts of your skin, before zeroing in your nipple through your teddy. You hissed and jerked, moving away from it. He held on, getting the fabric wet with his spit. 

“Not even this sweet pussy of yours can make me put you on the nice list,” he said. 

“Shit,” you moaned. You threw your head back as another orgasm tugged on your core. He leaned up and licked this thumb, pressing it against your clit. You growled as your pleasure seemed to ramp higher and go further. You clutched onto his forearms, too weak to say or do anything. 

Your eyes crossed while his thumb furiously worked your clit. “Get that pussy talkin’ again. I ain’t hear her the first time.”

He slipped out of you while you were still shaking from the last orgasm. “Ohhh.” your lips moaned, a desperate echo making your voice warble. Your body twitched beneath him. He just watched as you squirmed. 1 

“How many orgasms does it take to get me to bust?” He asked.

His dirty words were activating a different switch in your mind. You became competitive and pathetic as you gyrated, trying to shove his dick back inside. You wanted his cum and you hated that he turned you into an animal, too fucked out to care about how you looked or what you showed him in your eyes. 

He scooted back and roughly turned you over onto your knees. You flopped around, your arms too weak to help yourself. “Get up on them fuckin’ knees.” 

You whined and whimpered as you slowly got into position. He pushed your thighs further apart with his knees and entered you in one deep thrust.

“Fuck! Baby! Too much!” You pushed your hand back against his broad chest. He slapped your hand away.

“Nuh-uh, move that hand,” he said. 

“Too much, Daddy!” You screamed. His strokes were hitting the deepest part of you and you were screaming the national anthem for all you knew. 

“Oh! I’m Daddy now?” He asked. 

“Daddy, please!” You whined. You slammed your ass on his dick with his help. His hand smacked your ass with such force that you fell back from the recoil. 

“Fuck! Look at that shit go,” he grunted. Your hand pushed against his body again.

“Move that fuckin’ hand, now!” 

Your wails were grating on your own nerves. You moved your arm. “You know what I wanna hear if you want me to stop,” he said. 

No, you didn’t want to use that word. The minute you did, he would stop and want to check in with you. You didn’t want words now. You didn’t want to reason and explain yourself. You just wanted to blow your hip out. 

You gripped the sheets beneath you and held on. “Yeah, that’s right. Good girls listen to Santa,” he said. 

You gripped his dick and rode him like your life depended on it. He landed a few more smacks to your ass. “Watching this ass shake, hmm, I’m ready to bust. You think this one gon’ be it?” 

You drooled onto the bed as your orgasm crested once more, putting pressure on your lower belly, and gripping him tighter. You bit the blanket beneath you as you groaned. Your eyes rolled and eyelids fluttered. 

“Hmm, don’t she talk so pretty,” he moaned. 

He grunted as he finally spilled inside of you. Fuck, there was so much of it. You worried briefly if you wouldn’t get fucking pregnant off of this. You were meticulous about your birth control and you weren’t ovulating.

But you could believe it if you ended up pregnant off of this dick tonight. If he had some type of magic dick that got you pregnant with a single thought. He fucked his cum into you, plugging you full of it. 

“Goddamn it, baby girl,” he grunted. His leg shook as the final pulse pushed into you deeper. 

He retreated slowly. His cum immediately pushed out in a thick, creamy wad. You groaned as it slid down your pussy and dripped beneath you. You wouldn’t be able to look at bear rugs the same. 

“Shit,” he panted. He spread your ass cheeks so that he could watch himself leak out of you. 

“Might fuck around and give you some kids, baby girl. Would you like that? You want my baby?” He asked.

He rubbed your ass as he continued to watch his cum leak from your body. You probably looked like a stuffed donut.

“Nahh, not yet. I’m not done spoiling you,” he said. 

You sniveled as tears ran down your cheeks. You were so full of love for this man. How he always took care of you and pampered you. You didn’t have to lift a finger when he was around. It was so intoxicating. You feared that one day you truly would let him spoil you and not give two shits.

He wiped your tears away and brought it to his lips. He moaned when he sucked your tears off. “Fuck, baby girl. You wanted some more dick, this is how you ask,” he said. 

He entered you again and you cried out. You fell face forward onto the blanket, your face facing the hearth. Heat waves warmed your face instantly. The light cast long rays in your vision as it swam with tears and bliss. 

Your fingers were too weak to properly hold onto the blanket. Your cheek rubbed against the damp spot from your spit. 

“She got somethin’ more to say, huh?” Santa asked. 

You nodded and moaned as your wails reached a new crescendo. You gripped his dick again, sucking him deep into your body. 

Santa moved his left hand to palm your scalp. He flexed his fingers and pulled your hair back. His right hand smacked your ass once and then he was pushing it into your anus. “Oh shit!” You moaned. 

“I’m gonna have to bring you more of these from the North Pole, baby girl,” he said. 

“I bought two of every color,” you said.

His hips snapped forward as he unloaded again inside of you. Hot splashes of his cum pushed against your G-spot and you cried out, sinking onto his dick with a powerful, gut-wrenching, mind-blowing orgasm that twisted you like a pretzel and folded you like a bagel. 

He lazily continued to fuck into you as he groaned and spent every ounce left in his balls. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder. 

“Damn, baby, thank you,” he whispered and kissed behind your ear. You were too fucked out to respond. You just softly moaned. 

He dropped a kiss to your cheek and you felt him smile against it.

“Wait till you see what I do to you on New Year’s.”

If you liked this, then you simply must know about Mr. Black! Masterlist

[genshxn]

✤ 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜: 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

mild(?) spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (but probably everyone knows it by now let's be honest)

written pre-3.3

author drivel. what's up, i've got covid and a head full of cotton and I'm making it your problem too, so here's some unsolicited 'fluffy' scaramouche word vomit. as such, please excuse any egregious spelling/grammar mistakes or consistency errors because lord knows i'm gonna fuck something up with my negative braincells rn.

sorry about the lack of consistency with scaramouche's name. there are so many bloody things you can call that lil piece of shit

synopsis. under kusanali's order, you're in charge of scaramouche's domestication. for now, you've fallen sick with a tenacious cold, and as part of his 'training', scaramouche has to look after you.

contents. y/n has a cold (and the shivers), scaramouche being scaramouche, slight crack, fluff, and scaramouche screaming.

w.c. 2.2k

HEY HEY YOU CAN READ PART 2 HERE

You let out a prolonged, melodramatic groan. Colds suck. You were piled under blanket after blanket, nestled in amongst a halo of pillows, banished to your quarters near the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Despite being half buried alive, you were still trying your best not to shiver. Your fever has rotated to its chills period, and nothing was helping.

You sigh. The low-lit room and radio silence weren't helping your awful feeling. Curse human fragility and its ability to fall victim to microscopic beings not even really considered "alive".

"Augh, I feel like shit..."

The door slams open. "You look like shit." In walks Scaramouche—the man of many names—with a tray of food in hand and blankets strung over his slender shoulders like an oversized, pompous collar. Same as ever, he speaks with a sharp tongue. It's not so much sarcasm aimed at you rather than it simply being the puppet's nature.

"Yeah, thanks Bowlcut." You cough back in reply.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He huffs, gently setting down the tray on a small table next to you, contrary to his grouchy demeanour. Next, he sheds himself of the blankets, sticking them at the foot of your bed.

"As many times as I've told you to not announce your arrival with 'n insult aimed a' me." You grunt out, voice stuffy and croaky from your sinuses feeling like they're about to blow up. "Try your opening line again, Bowlcut."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he belligerently changes his greeting. "I brought your food." He dramatically gestures to the table beside you, sarcastically showing off the dishes with the added pizzazz of some jazz hands.

"Much better." You pathetically sit up, cascades of green blankets falling off your form. The movement makes your wonky head spin slightly.

"If you don't hurry up and eat it, I'm gonna eat it myself." He pulls a chair up from behind him and sticks himself down on it, leaning back with one leg crossed on top of the other. "It smells good." He looks between you and the food expectantly.

"I'd love to be able to smell it, but unfortunately it feels like a slime's taken refuge in my sinuses right now." You shuffle over to the edge of the bed to get closer, still wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. You shudder at the loss of warmth. "Thanks for bringing my food, Scaramouche."

To your surprise, you're met with silence from him. Normally he has some sort of surly quip to fire back at anything you say, but not this time it seems. "...What're you gawking at?" He notices your blatant staring.

"You feeling alright? You're unusually quiet."

"I should be the one asking you that question." His half-assed sarcastic tone betrays his actual message with that line. He stares at some point on the floor in front of him, unable to meet your gaze. "I-it's— um... just..."

"Just what?" You blink, tilting your head slightly.

"Can you not call me that?" His voice is much quieter than normal. He sounds almost... defeated. A very uncharacteristic tone for someone who refuses to accept defeat (despite it being the only thing he's been faced with in recent times).

"You mean Sca—"

"Did you not hear what I just said?" He quickly cuts you off.

"Ah, sorry." You look down at the same spot on the floor for a moment. "What would you like to be called then?"

He doesn't answer, still looking downcast.

"I think I've heard you use Wanderer once. I could call you that."

"What? Don't call me that. I just said that because I couldn't think of anything to say to some rando, like... one time!" His expression is right back to his usual self: a look of confused contempt.

"What about your other name, Kunikuzushi? I could also call you a shortened version, like... Niku?"

"Do not call me that. Niku means 'meat'. Of all things, you picked out that?" He throws his arms up in response. "Kunikuzushi or whatever works, I guess... Just don't call me Scaramouche. Or Bowlcut. OR NIKU." Upon the final word, he crosses his arms over himself like a child having a tantrum. "Now eat your food or I'm gonna take the halva for myself and feed you the... other thing... myself."

"Alright, alright." You turn to look down at the food. As you've had with your past meals, there was a dessert side of Halvamazd, made specially by Nahida for you, but curiously, the main dish itself was different than the usual Sumeran cuisine. It looks like some sort of Inazuman dish that you're not sure you've ever seen before. You stare at it curiously, and he notices.

"What, do you not like it?" Kunikuzushi frowns, staring intently at your face. His voice is unexpectedly intense.

"Oh, nothing like that, I just wasn't expecting an Inazuman dinner today." You wave your hands around slightly beneath the blanket.

"I-if you wanna blame anyone, blame the Radish," he says, sitting back, crossing his arms again. "It was her idea..." He trails off suspiciously, looking off to the side.

With that reaction? "Yeah right."

"It was!" He exclaims defensively. "Gods, are you sure you're sick? You're still as annoying as ever."

"Either way, it looks really good. What is it?"

At your words, Kunikuzushi calms down with a sigh. "It's my take on chazuke. Rice with some tea poured on top, plus some toppings. I made it, so of course it's going to be delicious." He declares confidently, puffing his flat chest.

"You made it for me?"

He stops in his tracks, lavender eyes going wide once he realizes he just blew his nonexistent cover. He sputters out some unintelligible nonsense before ultimately slumping down and crossing his arms grumpily for the third time. "Yes. Yes, I did. There, are you happy? I made it for you and it was my idea."

"Thank you very much, Ku. It looks delicious." You smile warmly at him. He looks at you with wide eyes, expression almost unreadable. His mouth parts, maybe to say something in response, but nothing comes out.

You unsheathe your hands from the blanket and begin to eat the dish. While your senses of smell and taste have been dampened by the cold, you can still taste the softly bitter and sweet flavours of the dish dancing over your tongue. It's the perfect temperature, to boot. Hot, but still cool enough to not burn your already shredded throat. Because your appetite isn't quite what it normally is, the light dish hits just right. The whole time, Kunikuzushi carefully—almost nervously—watches you wolf down the dish.

Once you finish it, you place the bowl and utensils back on the tray. "That was so good. Exactly what I needed." You wrap the blanket back around yourself, pulling it tighter to try and preserve your limited warmth. "You'll have to make it for me again when I'm better so I can really appreciate the taste."

"...Sure." He says shortly. His response isn't curt like normal, but just... awkward. You sit there awkwardly as well, trying to gather up all your layers of blankets again to reassemble your blanket cocoon. You're putting in a bit too much effort to try and not shiver. Kunikuzushi watches you for a minute, and then wordlessly moves to pick up the extra blankets he brought from the end of the bed.

"Oh, than—" Instead of simply handing them to you like you thought he would, he layers you in them, wrapping them around you himself. He kneels on the bed, torso close to your head. As he piles on blanket after blanket, his hands brush all over your shoulders. He's so close that you can feel a faint warmth radiating off him. An idea cha cha slides into your head.

"You look all... not even pathetic, just sad when you're sick and cold."

You've been around the grumpy puppet long enough to know that what he's really saying is that he doesn't like seeing you look miserable. Once you're suitably wrapped, he places one final blanket on top, draping it over the top of your head like a hooded cloak or veil. He takes a step back to examine his blanket-wrapping handiwork. Suitably happy with it, he decides to return back to his chair. But before he can get too far, you manage to grab his slender wrist, earning a shocked sputter from him.

"The blankets aren't enough. I'm still cold."

"What?! What else could you possibly need to—"

"You can't get sick, right?"

"No, not from colds or viruses or whatever, hence why I'm he—wait, what're yo—" Kunikuzushi squints at you suspiciously, aware of sinister things lingering in the air.

"You're warm. Be my heater for a bit."

"H-has your fever turned you delusional?!"

"Probably." You try to suppress a shiver unsuccessfully. "But c'mon, you said that you wouldn't get sick. Please?" You look at him expectantly,

Kunikuzushi looks at you with all sorts of conflicting feelings flitting across his twitching, reddening face, bubbling up until he finally concedes with a massive sigh. "F-fine." He puffs, eyes completely avoiding your gaze. He's too embarrassed to look anywhere near you. "At least let me do something first..." He sits on the edge of the bed and sheds his loose-sitting kimono and robes, leaving them folded neatly on the edge. Now he's in just that semi-transparent undershirt and regular shorts.

You stare at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"What? I don't wanna overheat." He frowns, turning away from your gaze slightly. "If you're really going to... c-cling to me or whatever, lose at least two of the blankets."

"But 'm cold."

"That's your brain gaslighting you into thinking you're cold. Your 'shivers' will dissipate once I'm under there with you. If you overheat, your brain will become even more fried, and then you'll be completely useless."

Now it's your turn to let out a massive sigh with a reluctant "Fiiiiine." The outer two layers of your blanket cocoon come off, discarded to the floor next to you. You shuffle back to your original position, lying under the covers, wrapped in blankets. Kunikuzushi shuffles up next to you, hesitates for a second and then pulls the new outer blanket up a little to sit it just on top of your head. That was the second time he did that.

"What's the point of that?"

"What?"

"Move the blanket on top of my head?"

"...Um. I... do it sometimes. I like the feeling of it. I don't know, I thought you might—"

Instead, you cut him off by reaching out and putting part of the blanket on top of his head as well. He immediately goes quiet with wide eyes.

"Come on heater, get under the blankets. You talk a lot."

He makes a miffed grunt and shuffles under the covers, finding his way through all the blankets until he was right against you. You rotate your body to face him for optimal surface area coverage and close your eyes with a content exhale.

The two of you remain like this for a while, you lying next to the slightly stiff but warm Kunikuzushi. He doesn't move much and is completely silent aside from the very faint sound of his gentle breath. (does he breathe? idk lol) He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he seems to loosen up a little. You smile faintly at the thought, but it's quickly wiped from your face and replaced with a confused frown because he turns to face you and places his chin on top of your head. You can feel his soft breath on top of your head. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, staring right at the view in front of you—his neck. But oh, he's not done. Next, he pulls you slightly closer to him and then takes your hand in his own and gently laces your fingers with his. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

Next, he begins to mutter to himself. There's absolutely no way he's asleep—he must think you're asleep.

"Damnit... Fuck you, (Y/N)..."

You have to try SO hard to remain silent and not get offended and hit him with 'Bowlcut', but the dizzying polarity between his actions and his words is enough to keep you silent for now.

"Making me feel all this shit... Not even the Radish really knows what these feelings are."

You blink, eyes wide. You feel a cough coming on. This is not good. Your cover's gonna be blown.

"You're gonna be the end of me. Toying with my already shattered heart like I'm your plaything... Your smile, now calling me Ku... all these promises and things you do... I want to hate you, but I can't."

You can't hold it in anymore. You quickly push off his chest and jerk your head in the opposite direction so you don't have a coughing fit right on his chest. When you finally finish and turn back around, you're faced with a red-faced Kunikuzushi, looking absolutely mortified.

"YOU WERE AWAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME?!"

You bit your lips together awkwardly.

"AND YOU HEARD IT ALL?!"

You cough again. "Yep."

Instead of having a response that could somehow qualify as normal, his stare simply goes blank for a second until he proceeds to konk out, eyes closing and head flopping down onto the pillow.

He short-circuited.

[king-craftsman]

Black And White

"Ugh why the hell are people even into this kinda stuff?"

Scott couldn't believe what he was seeing. He swore, what was even the point of all these algorithms if they were going to continue recommending stuff he wasn't into? This must have been the tenth "What I'd Wear In The 1950's" video he had blocked.

He decided to put on some music instead as he thought to himself.

He just didn't get it.

He knew that these people didn't want to genuinely live in the past, that it was all about an appreciation for the design, the outfit, the aesthetic. But even that angle just came across less ignorant and more pretentious. Who the hell would wanna even pretend to live in the 50's?

There was no internet, no vaccines, no nothing. The only part about it that Scott liked were the movies, he had to admit there was something about them that were so alluring and it wasn't some gripping plot or enthralling mystery that got to him.

It was the men.

All dressed up with their slick hair and expensive suits, the trenchcoats and hats, suspenders and suit vests, the shiny shoes and cigarette smoke trailing from the full lips. Scott never realised it but he couldn't believe how turned on he was feeling thinking about that.

That's because just a few moments ago, he wasn't turned on by any of that.

In fact Scott used to hate old films, even ones from the 80's barely interested him.

But in his venting, he hadn't clicked out the YouTube window, he instead switched tabs and left the autoplay on, where a calm and jazzy 1950s tune played and the more it played, the more Scott's head suddenly began to fill with how much he loved those noir movies.

He hadn't even noticed that his hand on the mouse had began to change, not only growing larger but growing lighter, almost too light as his pale skin shimmered slightly like it was underneath a film reel. But oddly enough the sleeve of his shirt began to darken and not just because it was turning into the sleeve of an expensive suit jacket, but as if his hand was draining of all colour, as it turned black and white.

That's when Scott realised.

"The fuck?!" He quickly tried to control his hand, but there was nothing he could do. It shimmered and flickered like it was in another realm world as the sound of running film filled the room. Scott couldn't move his hand as it went and clicked on the tab with the music and suddenly moved to turn the volume to its max.

Sweet jazz music filled the room as the changes were progressing faster, the drainage of colour spreading down toward his arms now which were suddenly beginning to grow thicker, causing the new suit jacket to become tighter.

Scott wanted to use his other hand to reach up and turn his whole computer off. But the moment he reached out, he spluttered and coughed as smoke trailed down his throat. He felt something in his mouth, tasting bitter and dark as his free hand reached to take it out, only to see what it was, a lit cigarette.

"O-Oh fuck that feels good," Scott spoke, a sudden Transatlantic accent overtaking his voice, turning it deeper and more authoritative. His own voice managed to carry so much weight that it seemed to swell his throat, like it needed more room to work with as his neck thickened slightly, beginning to look more befitting for a larger and taller body.

More and more of Scott was turning monochrome, spreading over hands that looked more manly and large by the minute as one of the hands forced him to be unable to stop the music. The other brought the cigarette closer and closer to his growing fuller lips.

"N-No please don't...make me..." But then the cigarette met those lips finalizing their change and as he sucked in more of the smoke, he could feel like the aura of the transformation was coming in hot, making him change from the inside out.

He remembered growing up in the late 20's, memories flashing of older looking city streets, fancy cars and men constantly in suits. He remembered his first case and the thought of it all made his cock swell as he grew more and more manly and muscular beneath his three-piece suit.

His visage had the most remarkable change. His soft jaw began to sharpen as his face grew more angular. Eyes turned from a dull brown to sparkling blue, more focused and attentive as his nose elongated with a slight tilt at the very tip. His lips had become fuller and his hair, once somewhat shaggy and greasy was retreating back into his scalp to become something more refined, turning short and slicked back with pomade.

As Scott's cock throbbed, his home changed. His computer become a record player, still playing those jazzy blues on loop. His doctorate degree turned into a painting whilst shelves of comic books and fantasy novels transformed into mysteries and non-fiction. All before finally his smartphone on his desk, his last saving grace to stop this change and call for help flattened and expanded, turning black and white into a big broadsheet newspaper with the date on the front, reading the year.

1955.

And with that, Scott realised too late what was happening before he felt his cock throb and come in his pants, again and again and again...The pleasure ricocheting throughout his new body, like the added muscle mass gave it more space for the pleasure to fill, for the orgasm to sweep over him as Scott forgot all about his old life for the time being.

He was no longer just Scott.

He was Scott Flynn, the hotshot detective in town who could make any man or woman swoon.

By the time the new Scott stirred from the pleasure, he blinked and almost knocked the newspaper off his desk. He looked down, seeing a cigarette in an ashtray and some case files for him to look over, before there was a knock at the door.

"Gosh I must have dozed off," Scott murmured to himself, for some reason he blinked in surprise, as if he wasn't used to his voice.

He looked at the clock. Near midnight.

If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought his dreams were real and he was stuck living out some noir film for a few days. After all, a knock at the door so late at night, wasn't that how all those noir pictures started?

Either way, he wasn't gonna refuse the call and stood up, dusting himself off and ready to help out on the next case.

After all, what else was a handsome detective like him supposed to do? It was as simple as black and white.

For a whole library of hot stories like this, be sure to check out The Craftsman on Patreon.

[jasperhaleobsessed]

Comfort

Jasper Hale x Female Reader requested by anon.

Summary: Hi, I don’t know if this breaks your rules, but I just started my period and it’s really been beating me up! I went looking for some fanfics of Jasper Hale comforting a femreader while she’s on her period. I know Jasper has issues with blood, but seeing the reader in pain may help with him get over that to help her? I don’t know I just need some comfort/fluff because I’m in pain lol. Thank you <3

Notes: I hope I fulfilled what you wanted but if you would like me to write it in a different way or something else let me know! I tried to get it done today since you sounded like you needed it! Also anon I hope you feel better, I know it sucks I've been there and done that! Hope you enjoy! <3 May contain spelling errors sorry!

Warnings: Talks of periods, cramps, tylenol, etc, etc, etc.

Word count: 1k

Y/N’s POV

I was hunched over rubbing my stomach hoping that it would relieve some of my pain. Currently I am experiencing awful cramps due to my period and to say the least it sucks. I decided to get up and get some medicine to hopefully ease some of my pain.

I walked slowly downstairs. My joints and other parts of my body ached so my movement wasn’t as swift or steady as it normally would be. I decided not to dwell on that fact and headed for the kitchen to get some tylenol. I want to feel better as soon as possible so the sooner I can take this medicine the better. As I walked into the kitchen My mom smiled at me sympathetically, “How are you feeling honey?” She asked.

“Not great.” I mumbled. She leaned forward and kissed the top of my forehead, “I hope you feel better sweetheart. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

“Thanks mom.” I gave her a weak smile.

I grabbed a cup from the cupboard, poured some water in it, and quickly grabbed the tylenol bottle and headed to my bedroom. As I was walking upstairs I swore I heard something but I looked around and there was nothing there. I peeked in the hall area and downstairs and again nothing was there. I felt like I was going crazy. Why did I hear? I felt annoyed but decided to just get back to my comfy bed and to not worry.

I positioned the tylenol in my arm so I could push my door open and it made a creeking sound as it opened wider. I saw something that made my heart leap out of my chest. Jasper. He was sitting on my bed, his back was straight and his general posture seemed rigid like he was in pain. What's wrong? I guess he was the one I thought I saw. But why'd he gotta scare me like that? Something is wrong. Definitely very wrong.

I carefully step into my room. My heart was beating rapidly. He quickly turned to meet my gaze. His eyes were coal black. I put my water and tylenol on my nightstand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his expression was full of worry. But his expression also conveyed pain.

“I'm fine Jazz.” I croaked. My voice came out a lot less smooth than I would have liked. He immediately moved to my side cupping my cheek, his face was inches away from mine. “Please don't lie to me. Something is wrong, I can feel it.” His eyes darted around, looking me over worryingly.

He spoke up again, “I can smell blood but I don't see anything physically wrong?” He sounded like he was talking to himself rather than me.

I grasped his arm, I had finally caught on. “Jasper this is kind of embarrassing but um…”

“But what?” He questioned. I stayed quiet for a minute. He sent a wave of calm emotions through me. He caressed my cheek lovingly and encouragingly.

“I'm on my period that is why you smell blood.” I felt my cheeks flush. He sighed, “I'm glad you're not injured or dying.” He rubbed my hair affectionately. “Me too.” I murmured. I hugged him tightly, wrapped my arms around his waist.

My breathing calmed after a minute. I stayed quiet for a second but then spoke up and said, “Perhaps you should go. I don't want you to overexert yourself.”

“You want me to go?” He asked, he looked hurt.

“Well no of course not. I can just tell you're hungry and-” He cut me off.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No, I'm not scared of you! I will never be scared of you. I just don't want you to feel like you have to stay when you need to feed. I don't want you to feel like you have to stay. I don't wanna be a burden. “

“You will never be a burden. Yes I should probably go but I am not leaving you all alone when you need me.”

He then continued, “Now get into the bed so I can cuddle you.” I beamed at him. I moved to my soft bed and he moved to the other side. I snuggle into his chest. I felt content, perfectly at ease as if I felt no stabbing pain in my stomach.

Silence filled the air and I couldn't help but think back to the conversation we had only minutes ago. And suddenly I thought, “Why'd you scare me?” I asked.

“What do you mean scare you? I thought you said I didn't scare you?” He questioned, he suddenly moved his shoulders away as if he would move at any moment.

“Oh not that I meant why were you sneaking around?” I mentally smacked my forehead. I should have elaborated.

“Oh that I never meant to scare ya. Sorry Darlin’ that was not my intention.” I giggled at him.

“What's so funny Missy?” He questions with a quirked eyebrow.

“You!” I say with a goofy smile.

“Really?” He questions, but then he suddenly a smirk appears on his beautiful features. He started to tickle my sides and I let out more soft giggles and squeals.

“How come you came? Did you know I was hurt or something?” I asked.

“Alice started to tell me but I didn't let her finish.” He looked at me sheepishly. I let out another giggle. “I heard something was wrong so I came as fast as I could even if I could risk hurting you I had to make sure you were alright.”

He then continued, “If anything were to happen to you I don't know what I'd do.” He lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I felt my heart skip a beat as I looked into his honey colored eyes. A smile graced his face and he slowly leaned forward and kissed my lips.

After a minute I moved away and said, “Nothing is going to happen to me. Clearly me breathing and snuggling into your chest is testament to that. You do have control, you just have to have more faith in yourself. Give yourself more credit, love.” His smile widened and he hugged me softly, I already felt much better. I felt at peace in his strong arms that wrapped around my figure. My eyes started to feel tired and I laid my head against his chest and I fell into a blissful sleep. I guess I didn't need tylenol after all, all I needed was my angel of a boyfriend.

The End

[esmedelacroix]

13 days til' Christmas

christmas party with exhusband!toji fushiguro ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

cw: very suggestive(got carried away/honestly its smutty idk what's wrong with me), shower sex, unprotected p in v, angsty

a/n: y'all im so sorry this was supposed to be a fluffy little christmas post i swear...

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

Christmas was just around the corner. It was supposed to be a time of meeting family, gift-giving, and togetherness. Instead, you were stuck going through paperwork. Divorce paperwork.

You and your husband had agreed to divorce three months ago but the media still wouldn't know about it until you finished the last of the legal work.

You didn't know why but you couldn’t bring yourself to sign the final paper. It was so stupid that you were the one that suggested divorce and you couldn’t even stand to sign your own papers.

Toji probably already signed his and your lawyer(and his) were nagging the two of you about the papers.

It didn't help that you and Toji were in the same line of work. On top of that, you were both acting in the same romantic comedy show as love interests. The cherry on top was that the two of you got an invite to a Christmas party. It was only the most lavish Christmas party in all of Hollywood.

The two of you decided to go together because you were added to the guest list far before you divorced. It would be your last date. The two of you would have to make a huge effort to not argue in the middle of the party.

Your thoughts were beginning to tire you so you took one last look at the papers, unsigned again, like every other night for the past three months. You sighed as you picked up the book you had started when you and Toji were still sharing the bed you were now sitting in alone.

He had taken the liberty to move out a month after the divorce, leaving you your estate. You were in this big ass house with no one to share it with.

It was still the same house. The only difference was that Toji was gone and you were tucked into his side of the bed. It wasn't because you missed him or anything you were just there because you missed his scent and his warmth. But you didn't miss him, you were happy he was gone. Right? This is everything you wanted. Right?

You weren't wearing one of the button-ups that he had left on accident because you missed him. It just conveniently fits as a comfy oversized shirt for you.

You most certainly were not playing the old jazz songs that he liked to play when he forced you to slow dance with him because you missed him. You just never liked to admit to him that you kind of liked the songs that he played to his face.

As you slept, thoughts of him consumed, and for the first time you wondered, was this all a big mistake?

. . .

Weeks flew by as you found new crazy ways to keep your mind busy while your heart got heavier. As soon as you knew it, the day of the Christmas party arrived and you could finally call him without needing a stupid excuse.

You heard the line ring hoping and praying that he would answer so that you could hear his voice again after weeks of being starved of that beautiful sound.

"Hello?" he answered.

You sighed in relief as the vibrations of his voice entered your ears like water in a land of drought.

"Hey Toji, how much time do I have to get ready?" you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He took some time to answer but soon replied, "I'll be there in three hours,"

"Okay, I'll be ready by then," you replied as you fiddled with the necklace that he gifted you for your first Christmas together as a married couple.

. . .

"I don't know what to get you, I know you'll like anything I give you but I want it to mean something," he said after asking you for the millionth time what you wanted for Christmas.

"I already told you I wouldn't be so upset if my gift was you[oiled up on the bed with whipped cream and fruit roll-ups in hand]," you replied.

"Please just give me one item to give you and I'll leave you alone,” he pleaded.

You took some time to think before saying, "Get me a necklace, any necklace and I promise you I'll wear it every single day, even if for some crazy reason were not together,"

"We’ll never not be together, I'll never let you go,” he promised.

. . .

"Alright I'll see you then," he said.

I miss you...

"Okay, bye-bye,"

I miss you more...

Just like that, you went back to feeling like you were living in a world with no sound worth hearing.

You got up from your bed to get ready. You wanted to blow him away, you took a steamy everything shower, and did a face mask, and applied some light makeup.

You scavenged through your closet looking for the perfect dress to wear. Then you realized, you didn't have to wear a dress. You decided to wear a festive red suit with nothing under the vest. You were displaying a mouth-watering plunging cleavage. Not many people had seen your sternum tattoo but you didn't care to hide it.

You finished off the outfit with a killer pair of Louboutins. Everything that you were wearing were things that he had bought you thinking you would look good in them.

The only issue is that you were too scared to wear them because of your image. You let the increased amount of fame you were receiving get to your head. Maybe that was part of the reason why the arguments started.

You slicked your hair back and kept it down. It was a new look for you but it was a vibe you wanted to experiment with. It was so you. You were hidden behind bright pastels and fairy-like dresses all the time, it would be your first red carpet dressed in clothes you liked.

You were lost in the moment of getting ready with music blasting and putting your earrings on you didn't hear the front door open or the footsteps up the stairs.

You fidgeted with the necklace as you admired yourself in the mirror. You never embraced the more sensual side of yourself until now. It was weird but it felt right.

Even so, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Were you showing too much skin? Did you just look like a little kid playing dress-up?

"You look incredible," Toji assured as if he could read your every thought, He admired you through the mirror with a small smile on his face.

Your body jumped at the sudden intrusion. "Oh I didn't realize you were there," you said, crossing your arms feeling almost naked in front of him.

He walked up to you and uncrossed your arms placing his hands on your shoulders afterwards. He eyed you from your hair to your face down to your cleavage. His eyes stayed there for a while. She’s still wearing it. He thought to himself looking at the necklace he gifted you.

"You look perfect baby," he said and for a moment everything felt right. It felt like you weren't divorced. It felt like you were a married couple in love again.

You hugged him burying your face in his chest. "Thank you," you mumbled. You thought you would have the self-control to hold back but you didn't. Being in his arms was addictive and his scent intoxicating.

You quickly scurried away to get your clutch and the two of you went down into the car. He opened the door for you as always and he gave you aux as usual. It was like nothing had changed at all. You weren't married on paper but the two of you didn't act like it at all. It was as if you never got divorced. Kind of.

The two of you drove to his new house where the limo was waiting. There was a red carpet for this holiday party. The two of you were in the middle of a long line of limousines. You could see the celebrities on the red carpet taking photos together.

As you got closer and closer to the entrance of the event, you started to bounce your leg. Your nerves were starting to get to you and you began overthinking about what everyone else would think of you.

Just then you felt a large warm hand on your thigh. You looked down to see Toji's hand. He gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, he was looking away but you appreciated the gesture. You could almost sense the shy smile and the blush that were most likely gracing his face.

If just for a moment you could just pretend that August never happened. Like you never got into that one argument that unpacked too many emotions at once. If you could pretend that everything was okay and normal, you would rest your head heavy with your thoughts, on his broad shoulder.

And so you did. You held on to his muscular arm and snuggled into his side. You could feel yourself calm down in his presence alone. He took your hand in his and looked down at you admiring your beauty. The time felt right, his perfume filled your head and the clicks of cameras started to die down. "I've missed you Toji, every single day that we were apart, I've missed you," you revealed. To him and to yourself you admitted that you missed him and regret consumed you whole.

Toji turned to you, shock painted across his face. He crouched his head down so she could look into your eyes. "I've missed you t-," Toji started before their limousine door opened suddenly.

The world around the two of you began to fill with the clicks of cameras and the chatter of reporters and celebrities. You flashed Toji a nervous look and he gave your hand a squeeze before stepping out of the limousine before you and helping you out.

Gasps followed with your stunning entrance. Your look was unique to what the media was used to seeing you. It was also far fetched from the image that your entertainment company wanted you to maintain.

Toji kept your hand in his the entire time. His touch comforted you. You felt confident enough to pose with him and by your lonesome. You looked over at Toji who was already watching you after you were done posing.

The two of you waved to the press and entered the venue. "You looked amazing out there," Toji said, looking away from you with a light blush adorning his cheeks.

"Thank you, you didn't look too shabby yourself," you quipped.

He chuckled and shook his head at you. Everything felt right. You weren't alone anymore.

. . .

Dinner went on without a hitch. You and Toji allowed yourselves to have fun and let loose. After the party, you and Toji got into the limo and you told the driver your address.

You and Toji sat in the car in a comfortable silence recharging your social batteries. The two of you were holding hands, you were snuggled into his side taking in his scent. He was running his hands through your hair. The ride was far too short, and as soon as you knew it, you had arrived at your house. But you would have to leave home behind in that limo.

"Look, I know our situation but, do you want to come in tonight? Just for today please I don't want to be alone tonight," you practically begged.

"Sure, okay," he agreed as he looked you in the eyes sympathetically.

The two of you thanked and tipped your driver before entering the house together. Toji led you up to your room and ran to the shower telling you that you could join him if you wanted. You waited and thought for a while before getting up and deciding to take him up on his offer.

You stripped completely naked before entering the bathroom. You could only make out his figure through the steamy glass of the shower. You opened the shower door and joined him.

The two of you were completely silent helping get each other's backs and helping with shampoo. It felt just like the times before except there was this lingering feeling of tension and uneasiness you just wanted to shake off.

You hugged Toji from behind. Your naked body against his, water trickling down both of you. He turned around, running his hand through your hair and raking it away from your face. Staring into your eyes longingly before crashing his lips against yours.

Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Were you scared? in pain? No. You were sorry. So so sorry. In between heated wet kisses, all you could get out was apology after apology.

. . .

"I don't know Baby, I just feel like you aren't very authentic, like you're acting like someone different, even around me now," Toji said.

"Well, the company said that it would be best if I acted this way, they said I would be taken more seriously," you explained.

"Baby, you’re going to lose yourself in this role, because you're just acting, this isn't you," he said.

"How do you know if it's me or not? Maybe this how I act, how do you know?" you asked.

"How do I know? I’m your husband. I am your husband," he said sternly.

. . .

You hadn't even realized that you were crying. It all looked like water anyway.

Toji's hand traveled from the sides of your face all the way down to your waist pulling you into him. You could feel his hot length twitch and harden against your thigh.

You moaned into the kiss thrusting your hips against his, your body seemed to have a mind of its own.

. . .

"I don't understand why you're acting like this. It feels like I don't know you and I'd like my wife back," Toji said as he entered the break room.

You had acted like an airheaded bimbo during the interview because your management told you that it would clean up your image.

"Well maybe you really don't know me," you rebutted.

"Why would you want to act stupid for approval from the internet instead of wanting to be recognized as one of the few outspoken actresses out there," he retorted.

. . .

Toji left hot kisses on your jawline that translated to hickeys on your neck. As he kissed down to your cleavage he kissed the pendant of the necklace that he gifted you that you still wore all the time.

You moaned his name loudly in pleasure, crying tears of regret, sadness, and euphoric joy.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry

so very sorry

. . .

"Don't you like me more now?! Why don't you like me more now?" you questioned after Toji refused to have sex with you unless you stopped this act.

Everything was different kissing you felt different, sex you felt different. It felt wrong because he felt like he was cheating on you with a completely different woman.

"Are we even married anymore? Do you even want to be married anymore?" you questioned.

"Babe, honestly I don't even know anymore,”

"I want a divorce. Let's get a divorce. Now," you said, waiting for him to fight with you, to fight for you to say anything.

He simply shook his head raising his hands in defeat before burying his head in them. That night he left and the only times you saw him again were for legal issues.

. . .

Your back was flush against the glass wall of the shower. Your legs were dangling in the air as Toji thrust into you holding your legs up and wrapping them around his waist.

Your fingers were clawing at his back as his length almost split you in half.

You forget what it felt like to be so full. "Missed this pussy, missed it so much," Toji mumbled with his head buried in the crook of your neck as he tried with all his might not to go ahead and just explode inside of you.

You were milking him, unable to stop your walls from clamping down on his cock. You were uncontrollably creaming on his cock making a mess of him and his thighs.

"Ahn, I'm so close, I'm close Daddy can I please cum?" you asked, barely making sense.

"Yeah, c'mon baby show me how good I make you feel," he urged.

You needed no other words you immediately started squirting as Toji fucked you through your high chasing his own.

You felt his hot cum shoot up into you as his tip kissed your cervix. You never felt so full until then. You let out one last apology before leaning against his chest.

"All is forgiven baby, I'm just happy to have my wife back," Toji admitted.

"I've missed you like a fish stranded on the surface missed the feeling of water pumping through its gills. You're a daily need and I've been so deprived of you for so long," Toji said as he helped you shower again after making a mess of you.

It would've been my greatest regret to let you go...

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taglist:

@aripet22

[halaboyz]

still of serendipity, yunho

ateez bf (ex)! yunho x gn! reader angst angst angst angst ; break-up fic! wc: 1.1k warnings: idk what i should put it as but reader starts to list things that can be considered as self-hate(?); swearing a/n: jeong yunho is just the PERFECT character for playing angst and the way he holds always holds a spot whenever i think of angst is ... this is light angst though! at least for me ^^

It was way past afternoon, yet sometime before night. It was neither dusk or night, you didn't know— with the way the dark clouds uniformly enclosed the bright blue sky maybe minutes ago, dropping hundreds and thousands and millions of rain that formed a rather calming sound in the background.

What you knew though, was that you were still sitting in silence as you stare out the window, hearing yet another sigh coming out of the man's lips in front of you.

"y/n," He calls out, and you look down to heave a breath to hold your tears.

"Yunho, the rain's pretty."

"We've been dragging this out by so long already, y/n. Don't you think it's already time?" Yunho whispers, ever so softly. He scoots closer to you to lean his elbows on the table.

You look at him emotionlessly, yet pleadingly. You were one to expect this was already to come, yet it still hits you like a truck.

"Yunho... I really can't do this right now." It was true. You have a lot on your plate; your job currently thinking whether resigning with you is a good idea or terminating your contract with how you were so idea-less these past few months, your family borderline cutting all connections with each other, friends unable to be contacted— Yunho was the only one you're now holding onto. "I really, really can't. Can't we... wait this out? I really really need you by my side right now and I... can't."

"Do you just need me, y/n?" Yunho stares at you hopelessly, the rhetorical question wanting to be said out loud for weeks already.

It makes you silent, though. Did you really just need him? Did you make him feel like that, that you only needed him? Did it seem like that?

Because you knew for sure you'd travel space and back to prove your love for this man.

So when he asked that, made it seem like you only used him for your benefit— or whatever he meant, that's how you understood it anyway, no point in arguing on an ending fight— you knew it was really a waste of more energy to try and prove something to him.

"If it seemed like that to you, take it like that." The disappointment was still evident in your voice, laced with anything the like of a venom that slowly killed the both of you.

"You know what I mean, y/n. You know how much I love you, and I still do. But... things are just not going too well that even love can't make me stay. I'm not the problem, you're not the prob—,"

"Stop telling me that there's no problem with me, Yunho. I need you to fucking say anything to make me please, fucking hate you." You finally sob, looking around the cafe with no other customers but the both of you, and the barista standing awkwardly behind the cashier, feigning ignorance.

You couldn't care less, though. You messily wipe your tears away but you sob yet again. It just keeps coming. When you said arguing was a waste of energy, crying isn't, that's certain.

"y/n."

"No, Yunho. I need you to spit out every fucking insult you could. Am I fat? Am I too ugly? Short? Do I not have dreams? Passions? Hobbies that don't align with yours? Boastful? Hard-headed? A pain in your fucking ass? Do tell, Yunho. 'Cause I'm about to lose my mind."

"Y/n..."

"I need any! Any fucking reason why you're breaking up with me and giving up on me, Yunho. I'd take on anything you're going to say and believe it and go on with my fucked up life because if not, Yunho..." You sigh, all the emotions mixing as you burst out crying. If it weren't for the raindrops in the background, and the low volume of jazz playing against the four walls of the cafe, you would've been all over the place to prove Yunho a point. "Even if my life turns upside down and you have shitty timing trying to break up with me, Yunho, I'd wait. If you don't say anything right now, I'd wait until the world fucking blows up."

Yunho only looks at you with so much he can give— guilt, a hint of regret, and a lot of sympathy you didn't need.

What you needed was him, his presence, even if he only stood still beside you all throughout, you knew you'd cope.

He was your lifeline, after all.

"Because I love you like that, Yunho. I don't know about you but I know myself and what I gave and what more I can give. So for you to give up on me just because I'm a fucking mess right now and I don't know about you is... shit."

Yunho stays like that, staring at you. Without an ounce of hope for the both of you, obviously.

Eyes of the one who had already long given up on the both of you. Eyes of the one who held nothing of love toward the lady wo cried a river in front of him, who begged him to stay during the lowest part of her life.

"I'm sorry, y/n." Yet he can't bear to hurt you more than you were already hurting. Even if he says every single insult in his vocabulary, he knows you know he wouldn't mean it. He knows that you know he just, as it is, purely, gave up on the both of you because it wasn't working at all between the both of you, right now, an untimely case.

He stands up unhesitatingly, leaving you an umbrella at the side of the table. He mumbles another apology as he takes a step back from your crying figure, finally accepting your fate as you stare out the window rather than seeing him off.

"I wish you well, y/n. I really do. I'm sorry that I can't be... the one." Yunho is a fucking coward. He just is— as he turns his back towards you, with tears finally, without a shame, pour out of his eyes. He can't let you see that side of him as he scurries out of the cafe, to his car in front of the window you longingly stared at.

When he looks back, you were sobbing your life out covered in your hands, and that's when the excruciating pain hit him. He had to clutch his chest to try and lessen the pain.

The pain he had caused. All he wanted to do was run back and engulf you in his arms, but... here we are. The cowardly Jeong Yunho.

Because he left, after all.

[gaypirate420]

Jasper x gn!reader where they’re cuddling and reader starts to kiss Jaspers old bite wounds🧎🏻

Here it is, hope you like it!

Feather light kiss// Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.

Fluff/Angst. Jasper's Battle Scars. Suggestive. Very soft Jasper.

Part 2

You inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet sent of your lover, he just returned from hunting and smells like rain and plants. His arms around you in an sweet and protective embrace, not too tight, there's still this fear of breaking your delicate human body.

Your lips were leaving gentle kisses on his cheek and in the corner of his mouth where that charming smirk formed.

"Teasin' me, sugar?" Jasper spoke softly, his low voice and texan drawl made you shiver in excitement for a second.

"Maybe a little, cowboy." You whispered with a smirk and keep kissing down his jaw, a rumbling groan left the blonde's throat.

"When I tease ya it ain't allowed but when ya do it's completely fine then?" He asked with a playful smile, you meet his golden gaze and nodded.

"Basically yeah." You chuckled and moved your body on top of his to give proper kisses to his jaw. His pale hands instinctively went to hols your hips down.

Then he felt them.

Your lips brushed against one of his scars and proceed to press and soft and loving kiss on it.

You noticed the change in demeanor instantly, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tighten but not to the point of hurting.

"I'm sorry, Jazz." You whispered ashamed. Jasper looked at you, he could feel the anxiety building within you.

"N-no, sweetness. It's-" He clears his throat and smiles, his thumb tracing circles on your hips.

"It's alright, darlin'. It really is." Jasper speaks a little nervous but he's sincere.

"Okay, I won't do it again, I'm really sorry, Jaspy." You cupped his cheeks, the vampire leaned into your soft hand and kiss your palm. Jasper closed his eyes, focusing on this moment, on the act of love you wanted to show him instead of the memories that flood his mind. His golden eyes meet yours.

"It's alright- it- it- felt—good." He whispered the last part. Your head tilts to a side.

"It did?"

"Yes." Jasper answered shortly, feeling slightly embarrassed and flustered.

There was silence. Not a single word was said, you just lied your head back to his chest and hug him, his strong arms wrapping you and automatically his lips press a kiss on your forehead.

"Can you do it again?" He asked with a quick whisper, breaking the silent moment. You looked at him and nodded with a gentle smile.

"Of course, cowboy." You whispered back and leaned down, your hand holding his shoulder. Jasper took a deep breath before your lips meet his scared skin once more.

"Like this? Or— like this." You press a different kiss, a longer one and your lips pressing slightly more against his neck, but still gentle and caring, you don't want to make him feel uncomfortable.

Jasper felt odd. He felt shivers, actual ones, it's been so long that it the sensation made him panic for a second.

He tried to speak but nothing came out of his mouth. You pulled away, taking it as he didn't liked it.

"N-no, please." He whispers and meet your eyes once more, his hand holding your arm. There was an evident desperation behind his eyes, fear, he was incredibly vulnerable right now and that made him scared.

You leaned down again, Jasper nodded and closed his eyes, again, a deep breath to prepare himself. Your lips touched his neck once more.

Jasper gasps softly at the contact and the gentleness of your lips. You stoped and waited for him to tell you to either stop or keep going.

"M-more—please." He whispers, his voice uncharacteristically shy and nervous. You nodded and comply with a smile on your face.

A short moan leaves his lips as your own keep traveling down at a slow peace. Giving him a second to process one kiss before you leave another.

His skin was soft and extremely sensitive.

His hand tightened it's grip on the sheets. Your lips kept pressing feather light kisses against his scars as your hand gently takes his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jasper kept panting and moaning shyly, gripping your hand desperate for support that you gladly gave.

He feels it so vividly, your lips, the kisses, it's making his body shake slightly and his eyelids flutter but he loves it.

"You're so pretty, Jazz." Your breath clashed against his marble skin and your words make him crumble, the walls came down and he melted into a puddle right infront of your eyes.

The vampire's mind is a mess, filled with hurtful memories of fangs against his skin and venom spreading through his veins.

But you.

"So beautiful." You whispered as your lips reached his collarbones. Jasper looked at you, trying to stay focused and not loose himself fully in these sensations.

Your voice, lips and touch, they're making it all go away, leaving him blank and filled with so much love.

"Perfect even." Your words hit right into his heart, his sweet moans and small cries for more are music for your ears.

The expression on Jasper's face would make you think you're stabbing him with a needle but the sounds he's making tell another story.

Jasper closes his eyes, concentrating fully on this wonderful sensation. Not so shy sounds leave his throat by now, but he doesn't care, he wants to show you he's liking it.

Your lips met his and closed in a passionate and slow kiss, his free hand holds your hip as he leans closer, groaning against your lips and desperate holding the kiss longer.

You pulled away, catching your breath before Jasper tackles you back on the bed and holds you tightly against him.

"I'm not going anywhere, cowboy." You chuckled softly, he hides his face on the crook of your neck.

"I don't want you to. Please. Don't ever leave me. I- please." Jasper begged with a cracked and small voice. You looked at him with a worried expression, you've never seen him like this.

"Please. Please. Please, darlin'. I love you so much— please." He spoke desperate, almost anxious, he feels so needy, so vulnerable and clingy.

"Sh, sh, sh, it's okay, I won't leave, Jazz." You whisper and caress his cheek. He nodded slowly and rest his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat and feel every breath you take it's relaxing.

"I won't ever leave you. I promise." You whisper as your free hand stroke his honey blonde hair, his arms tightening it's grip on your waist.

Jasper is overwhelmed, too many things happened, too many sensations and emotions that he long forgotten about.

"I got you, it's okay." Your whispered with a kind tone, again he is numbed by your gentle lips meeting his skin, this time his forehead.

A small smile breaks through his blank expression.

The vampire takes a deep breath and his tight grip loosens but still keeps you close.

Jasper doesn't say anything, just enjoying this nice moment, feeling safe, like he can just calm down, that everything is finally okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Kinda loving making Jasper so wet cat and pathetic. I'm sick and I honestly don't know it this is shit or not.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Paper rings 🩷

Jason Todd x singer!reader

A/N: I have to be honest, half of this is cat content ngl. This is based off the song by T. Swift :) Catdad!Jason is real because I say so. I geeked out and somehow love for greek mythology always find its way into my Jason fics idk

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: reader is a singer who writes a song for Jason. How does he react?

Requested by: 🌙 anon

Warnings: fluff all around! Cute kitty moments, the concert parts may be all wrong idk what I'm doing lmao

Word count: 1.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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You let out a sigh as you got into your car. It had been a long day in the studio, recording new songs for your latest album. Your throat hurt, but you were happy with the progress you had made today. Starting the car, you made your way home to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Jason.

It was his birthday soon, and you'd planned a little surprise, not only for him but for your fans as well. You had written him a song, one that would be on your newest record. You smiled only thinking about it, you couldn't wait to pull off this surprise.

The show you were performing tomorrow in Gotham was no ordinary one. You'd called it the "Jazz on Special", which was just a a play on Jason. Your lovely, yet sometimes a little daft lover had not gotten the hint. Good.

He always attended your concerts, watching from backstage, giving his support. The moment you stepped off stage, he was immediately one you, showering you in compliments and kisses, telling you how proud he was of you.

So you figured this was the least you could do to show your appreciation for him. You wanted the whole world to know how much he actually meant to you, scream it into the crowds. So that's excatly what you were going to do.

Unlocking your apartment door, you stepped in, dropping your keys in the little dish right by the entrance. You could hear footsteps the minute the door closed. Jason came towards you, with a big smile and open arms. "How was your session today, Baby?" He asked, wrapping you in his strong and comforting arms. You snaked your arms around his waist and hid your face against his chest. "Was really good. My throat is sore though, I need some tea." You mumbled, letting a content sigh to be in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head.

"I'll make you some, got get comfy, okay?" He said softly, stroking your hair. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, slipping from his embrace with smile. You went to put on a change of clothes. You did wear comfortable clothes to your recording sessions, but you had to dress it up at least little bit with some jewelry. It probably wouldn't be the best look to show up to work in your kitty PJs.

After having changed into said kitty PJs, you plopped down on the couch next to Jason and your cat, Nyx. She was a black stray with a white streak on her forehead. You'd picked her up from a local animal shelter, you just couldn't resist her cute little white paws that made her look like she wore socks and the fact that she matched Jason. It was supposed to be his Christmas gift one year, but you just couldn't keep her to yourself.

Although you got her for Jason, he insisted you name her, his reasoning being that she got her looks from dad so her name should be from mom. And yes, you do treat her like your child. You named her Nyx, after the greek goddess. She was the first, daughter of Chaos, night incarnate. You thought that it fit, with Jason being the protector of Gothams street at night. And in a way, you were grateful to her, to Mother Night, for holding Jason safely in her dark yet loving embrace.

"Nyxieeee!! There you are my sweet girl! I missed you SO much, yes I did," you beamed in a high pitched baby voice, scratching her face. You stole her off Jason's lap, making him huff. Taking her into your arms, you placed overly dramatic kisses on her tiny head. She didn't seem to mind, though, rubbing her cheeks against your hand and purring. Jason's face softened at the sight.

You looked so precious like this, the cat curled up in your arms as you cooed at her. You'd be a little embarrassed about your habit of talking to animals in a baby voice if Jason too, wasn't guilty of it as well. He put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. "You know, technically that's my cat," he said with a smirk on his face. You shot him a glare.

"Technically, you wouldn't have her without me and you asked me to be her mom. She's my child too, Jason!" You responded playfully. He threw his head back, laughing. "I guess she is, huh. Thank you for being the mother of my furrbaby." He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It's my absolute pleasure, baby."

You were getting sleepy, your eyes unvoluntarily fluttering shut ever so often. Nyx was curled up on your lap, peacefully snoozing away while Jason was intently watching whatever was playing on the TV. You took a sip of the tea Jason had so lovingly prepared for you. Setting the mug back down on the coffee table, your gaze shortly fell on Nyx and- wait

You had to do a double take. She had one of her small paws reached out towards Jason who was gently holding it and without paying much mind, softly stroking his thumb over it. Your heart was about to explode. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyes were wide, looking at Jason completely bewildered. He noticed your stare, turning his head towards you with furrowed brows.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked, the question slightly muffled by the hand that was supporting his head. "That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen," you mumbled, the shock pretty evident in your voice as you gestured to his huge hand that was ever so softly caressing Nyx's comparably tiny paw. His eyes softened.

"It is, isn't it? The first time she did it I was practically shaking from excitement," he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. Your brows shot together. "What do you mean 'the first time'?! Has she done this before? AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?!" You yelled in disbelief. How dare he keep something so precious from you.

"Sorry, Baby."

"Unbelievable."

Today was the day. The day you would pour your heart out in front of Gotham. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. The blood in your veins was at boiling point and you were seconds away from a panic attack. Fiddling with the two colorful paper rings you had made for today, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. This was fine. You were fine. You've literally done this hundreds of times. But would Jason like it? God, you hoped he would.

Before you could overthink more, you heard your cue through your earpiece and it was showtime.

The 'normal' part of the concert went well, you performed some of your best songs, the crowd was amazing and it was overall an incredible night. You'd talked to your fans a little on stage between songs, receiving some nice little gifts here and there. Flowers, plushies as well as a bra was thrown on stage. Well that was a first. Not that you complained, you were rather flattered, actually.

It was nice to know that you had the ladies on your side. Jason, who was watching from backstage, almost keeled over with laughter when he saw you pick up the under garment, completely bewildered. He would never let you live this down.

"Alright, Gotham," you said breathlessly, "before our lovely night comes to an unfortunate end, I have prepared a little something. Not only for you, but also for my special someone, who might or might not be here today," cheering could be heard from the audience as you fixed your earpiece and chuckled breathlessly into the microphone.

Singing and jumping around stage sure was a work out.

"This is a song I've not shared publicly, as it is from my new album, but I thought I'd make a little exception for all of you and at the same time be the best girlfriend and make the coolest birthday present ever!" You laughed. The moment you mentioned that it was a new song the crowd absolutely lost their shit. You don't think any of your concerts have ever been this loud. Your eardrums nearly burst at the sheer volume of teenage girls screaming their souls out.

"Here's Paper rings. This is for you, Jason." You said with a smile on your face. The music started playing and it's like all your worries faded away. You'd been waiting for this moment for weeks, to finally share this song and your love for Jason. As you sang the lyrics, a compilation of cute and silly pictures of you and Jason ran over the huge screen behind you. Some were of you and Jason in a face mask, others were of Jason cuddling with Nyx. You occasionally glanced over to Jason who was doing his best to hold back his tears with the biggest smile on his face. Your heart swelled at the sight.

With the last bit of music fading out, you finished the song and bowed. The picture remaining on the screen was of you and Jason kissing with a sunset in the background. A heart was drawn around it. The minute the last words left your lips, Jason was storming on stage, showering you in kisses. He held you tightly against him, peppering kisses all over your face. His actions made you giggle into the microphone and the crowd went wild. The security guards were really struggling by this point.

You grabbed Jason's hand and slipped one of the two paper rings on his finger, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. The dam broke. There were happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued kissing you. Managing to pull away, you addressed your fans one last time. "Thank you, and Good Night, Gotham!"

You squealed when Jason unexpectedly picked you up bridal style and whisked you off stage, your head thrown back in laughter. It was safe to say you were on the front page of the Gotham Gazette the next day.

Jason was talking his heart out on the way home, talking about how much he loved it and how much he loved you. You were listening patiently, holding his hand while a big smile was plastered on your cheeks.

Now, you found yourself in the familiar spot on the couch, Jason's arms wrapped around you with little Nyx making biscuits on your thigh. "I have one question for you, though," you said, turning your head to Jason. "What is it?" He replied softly.

"How the fuck did you not get the play on your own name?"

"Oh, shut up." He pouted, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a soft laugh.

"I love you too, Baby."

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