#Constantly have fic ideas for them running through my head

[moody-alcoholic]

Hii I had this idea for a poly141 fic and I was hoping you would write it!

So reader is part of the 141 and they're all already in a relationship

So Laswell insists on Price getting a secretary and she's constantly flirting with the boys of 141 (you guys have the work and private life are separate rule, and not many people at work know about the relationship)

The boys are just ignoring her, but reader gets pissed about it (mostly because if the roles were reversed, the boys would be all possessive and jealous)

So reader sneakily stakes her claim on the boys

Like making out with Price in his office, right before you know that the secretary wants to drop some papers off and they get caught ect

bonus points if it gets nice and smutty after she claims them

Extra bonus points if the secretary calls a meeting with the boys to tell them that you're involved with all of them, assuming that the boys get mad and kick you off of the team

I’m rubbing my hands together and kicking my feet. This really got away from me though… I might have to do another with the rolls reversed. Insanely jealous 141 instead. 

CW: Smut, handjob, ruined orgasm, insanely jealous reader - like really they need to chill the fuck out, thoughts of cheating but no actual cheating by anyone.

I see you other asks in my inbox I will get to everyone eventualy. I need to stop making everything so long XD

____

“So who’s the lady?” Johnny asks as he walks into John’s office, late as usual. You’d all seen her, she’d been here all morning spending most of her time in John’s office. Or walking around with stacks of paper and folders in her arms. 

You all took guesses about who she was and why she was here. All you managed to gather was that she was American, and pretty. Then John called you all into a meeting after lunch. 

“Well, as you know Kate is on holiday. So she sent someone to help while she’s away.” John explains. 

“To help with what?” Kyle asks. 

“All the paperwork you lot generate.” He says pointing at the pile on his desk.

“Isn’t that what LT’s for.” Johnny asks, patting Simon on the shoulder. 

“Simon has more important things to be doing than being stuck behind a desk.” John says. 

“Yes, but isn’t that what you pay him for?” You ask. It comes out hostile, you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s pretty and she gets to spend all her time with John. Not even you get to do that. 

“He has enough to deal with between the training and keeping you lot out of trouble.” John says, sighing.

“When does Laswell come back?” Kyle asks.

“A few weeks.” John shrugs. A few weeks, you have to live with her for a few weeks, the pretty little American secretary who gets to spend as much time alone with John as she wants. You’re not jealous though, because it’s you they’re with, it’s you climbing into bed with them every night. 

There’s a knock on the door snapping you out of your head. You realise how tense you’ve become, you haven’t even been listening to the last few seconds of the conversation. John calls whoever it is to come in and you all turn to see her standing in the doorway, she’s smiling with a folder in her hands. 

Why did she have to be so pretty? 

“I have the reports you wanted.” She says holding it up. John straightens up in the chair and calls her over, smiling back at her. Johnny’s eyes follow her too, you see him looking her up and down, his eyes lingering on her arse as she reaches over to give John the papers. 

“Where’re you from, lass?” Johnny asks. She seems shocked turning to look at him but her smile doesn’t falter. 

“California.” She says. Johnny's smile gets bigger as he gushes about the state to her. You find yourself digging your nails into your hands. 

“Right, you lot bugger off. Make yourselves useful somewhere.” John says as he stands up behind your desk. “Emily, you can stay.” 

It makes a shiver run through your body but you swallow it down following Simon and Kyle out the room. Johnny lags behind waiting for you as you linger by John’s door trying to listen to what they’re saying. 

“So, what do you think?” He asks as he throws his arm over your shoulder and you walk down the hall. “Cap gets a hot new secretary and we get LT busting our balls for the next few weeks.” 

“She’s not that hot.” You snap back, definitely way more hostile than it needs to be. He laughs, dropping his arm.

“You’re jealous.” he teases, you should ignore it, let it go. She’s not a threat, you know that, they’re happy and you’re all together. The only thing that could come between you all is you and your jealousy. That's okay though because you’re not jealous. 

“I’m not jealous.” You snap back. “Besides I saw the way you looked at her.” 

“Yeah, well.” He leans in closer to you. “Maybe she’ll help with more than just his paperwork.” That does it, you grip his arm dragging him down to the supply closet. Your hands are shaking as you swipe your card and push him in. He doesn’t stop you, giggling and running his hands up your top. He presses himself up against you and you turn in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Jealousy looks good on you.” He teases, with a cheeky grin on his face. It makes you mad but instead of replying you kiss him. It’s possessive, your hands coming to hold his face as you press your tongue in his mouth. He kisses you back just as needy, his tongue dragging in your mouth as he grinds against you. 

You prop up on your toes and pull your mouth off him. He still has a cheeky smile on his face, it makes you mad again. He’s enjoying this, enjoying winding you up. All you can think about is her though and her spending time with them, the sweet smiley blonde haired, blue eyed heartthrob from California.  

You press your lips on Johnny’s neck, you’re going to mark him up. All of them so she knows they’re taken. When you suck on the sensitive skin on Johnny’s neck he moans, his hands running over your bra. You let one of your hands fall down to the front of his pants. 

You can feel how hard he is. You flick the buckle on his belt and he gets the idea, moving one of his hands to help you drop his pants. 

“If this is what jealousy does to you. I like it.” he says, you pull your mouth off his neck looking at the red mark you left behind. You need to leave more so there’s no doubt in anyone's mind who he belongs to. 

You reach down pulling his cock out his boxers and running your hand down to the base. You keep your eyes on him though, watching his mouth tip open and his eyes squeeze closed. You run your thumb over the tip, already soaked in precome. 

You press your lips back on his neck and he tips his head back panting as you suck on his skin and pump his cock. 

“Fuck, love.” He breathes. You look up at him, his eyes are open now and he presses his forehead to yours. His breath is hot on your face, the only noise in the room are his breathy moans and the wet sound of his cock in your hand. 

“You belong to us right?” You ask, speeding up your hand. “John and Simon. Me and Kyle.” He nods but it’s not enough. 

“Need to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?” You ask, gritting your teeth and squeezing his cock harder making him moan louder. 

“You.” He says. You hum, pressing a kiss in his neck, your tongue drags over the marks you’ve left. You reward him with nice long strokes before asking again. Each time you do his response gets more and more desperate. 

“Fuck, close.” He says after a few more minutes. You feel him twitch in your hand. Usually you would get to your knees to catch the load, easier to clean up. You don’t feel like it though, he did stare at her arse and tease you about being jealous. You smile, you’re being evil working him to the edge, pressing down on the underside of his cock the way you know he likes it. 

When his breathing hitches and his cock jumps in your hand you pull away completely. He grits his teeth, his hands grip your breasts as you look down at his cock, twitching and leaking with precome. 

“Fuck you.” He says between pants. You smile at him and pull his hands out your shirt. 

“Really?” He asks shocked you’re leaving him. You press another quick kiss on his lips before heading for the door. 

“You looked at her arse.” You say shrugging, he’s still standing there, his pants fallen down to his knees, red faced and panting. 

“I don’t like jealous you.” He says gripping his cock and giving it a stroke. 

“I’m not jealous.” You say and leave the room.  

______

It’s been 2 weeks since Emily has been helping John and it feels like things have gotten worse. Turns out she’s a bigger flirt than Johnny, as soon as she got to know you all a little better she turned up the charm to unbelievable levels. 

Simon and John can pretty much ignore it but Johnny laps her up like a puppy in heat. Kyles no better, he doesn’t brush off her comments or sly advances. The worst is when she’s alone with John you end up sitting in the common room outside his office staring at his door until they’re done. 

“What's up your arse today?” Kyle asks, leaning over to whisper in your ear. You’re watching her take notes, that's what John asked her to do. You’re supposed to be listening to the brief. He wants to do some training in the urban compound but you haven’t been listening to what it's about. 

Johnny is sitting behind her, you catch him looking over at her notes every now and again. The room is dark, the only light is from the projector John is using. He could easily slip his hand down and rest it on her thigh. In fact that's exactly what Kyle did to you as soon as the lights were off.  

“Nothing.” You reply quickly looking back up at the presentation. Something about room clearance or blind spots you don’t care. 

“Missed you at breakfast.” He says squeezing your thigh.

“Wasn’t hungry.” You lie. She’d been joining you for meal times, you don’t always eat together most of the time you’re all spread around the base doing different things but you always have time in the morning for breakfast. She started joining so she could go over the schedule for the day with John, it made the already unappetizing canteen food even harder to digest. 

“Is it because of Em?” He asks, you scoff. You remember her telling everyone she liked to be called Em, Johnny was the first to start doing it, Kyle followed pretty quickly after. 

“I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m so bothered by her.” You say folding your arms. “I’ve been nothing but nice.”

“I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with Johnny getting the brunt of your jealousy.” Kyle says. 

“Well maybe if he kept his comments to himself he wouldn’t need reminding so often.” You hiss at Kyle. 

“Hey!” John calls, everyone turns to look over at you both. “Pay attention.” You both nod and he sighs getting back to the presentation. 

“You know maybe I wouldn’t mind a little reminder now and then.” Kyle says moving his hand further up your thigh. You can’t help but smile, you can hear the playfulness in his voice. 

“Maybe later. If you’re good.” You tease. He leans over turning his head to whisper in your ear. 

“I can be very good for you.” His voice is low, almost a hum, it sends shivers up your spine. He sits back in his chair and you smile, his hand squeezes your thigh again. You look over at Emily, she smiles as her eyes dig into you. 

_______

Later that night you end up outside John’s office. He’s been working late, later than normal. You’ve tried to convince yourself it's nothing, there was a bunch of new intel that just came in. Shepherd has been all over him, but something tickles in the back of our mind. 

What if she’s in there with him? What if that's why he’s been staying late? Come to think of it, you haven’t seen her leave the bracks, and if she’s going to be anywhere it’s John’s office. You grip the door handle and swing the door open. John looks up from his desk. 

“Forgot how to knock?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. She’s not here, you got yourself all worked up for nothing. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Sorry.” You say but you step into the room anyway, closing the door behind you. You walk around his desk and he leans back in his chair and turns so he’s facing you. 

“I missed you.” You say, he smiles and tips his head to the side. 

“I’ve been here.” He says and shifts his legs together and you take it as your opportunity to sit down on his knees. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your nose into his neck and breathing him in. His hand runs up and down your back and you feel him relax further into the chair.

“How’s things?” You ask, it’s an open question, you’re not sure what to say, you just want his company. You listen to him talk about the lead they were tracking. About what Shepherd’s been bothering him with. Kate is in the Maldives last he heard, at least she’s having a good time. 

When he’s finished you pull your head out his neck and look at him. He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him. You kiss him long and slow, you can taste cigar smoke on his tongue, that must have been where Simon and him went off to after the presentation. 

You don’t want to stop, letting yourself hum and moan in his mouth. His hands land around your hips and you grind against him. Before you can get any further though there’s a knock at the door. You break from the kiss looking over. 

He doesn’t say come in straight away, if it was the others he would have just invited them in. Maybe then they would throw you over the desk and fucked you, again. But you get it, it's Emily you let out a sigh before getting up off his legs. 

“Later?” He asks, reaching out and grabbing your wrist. 

“Maybe.” You smile. There’s another knock, you walk around the desk and open the door. Emily is standing there with a piece of paper in her hands, smiling at you. 

“Sorry, did I interrupt?” She asks. 

“Yes.” You say, at the same time John says no. She looks confused and you step to the side of the door letting her in the room. She nods walking past you and you slip out the room pulling the door closed a little too hard.

____

The next morning after breakfast you’re all in the lounge when John comes out of his office followed by Simon and Emily. She looks upset about something, her eyes land on you and your frown. Simon stands with his arms crossed, John has his on his hips. He doesn’t look mad, maybe she’s leaving early and that's why she’s sad. 

God you hope she’s leaving early. 

“Emily has made a pretty damning acquisition about you all.” He says, you look at him even more confused then back to Emily who’s hanging her head like she’s about to cry. “She claims you’re having sex in the store room.” 

You almost want to laugh, but you don’t, looking back at John with a raised eyebrow. Now you can see the lack of seriousness on his face and you relax a little. You’ve all used that storeroom, you need a keycard to get in and it locks from the inside. It's great. 

“There’s been some-” He pauses like he doesn’t know what to say, pressing his lips together. “-discharge found in the trash.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh. Fucking Johnny, finishing himself off just for the rest of you to get into trouble, typical. 

“Well it wasn’t me.” You say crossing your arms. “I never let him finish.” You see the smallest smile creep on John’s lips before he sighs 

“Right tease she is too.” Johnny says, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it and Kyle laughs. 

“Well, make sure you all clean up next time. I don’t have the patience to go through the base’s rules with you. Again.” He says. “In fact, just stick to your rooms.” You look over at Emily, for some reason it seems like she’s not too happy with that. Or maybe she’s just confused, maybe she expected John to get mad. He was the one who started the whole store room thing in the first place, not that she knows that.  

“It’s not professional.” She says suddenly, it even takes John aback a little. 

“No, but of course I have no control over what happens in private between any of them. Not that it’s really any of your business.” John says.

“I understand but-”

“No buts. They’ll clean up their messes, keep it to their rooms.” He turns to her. “And I expect you to maintain a level of professionalism while you’re working with us. Your future with the CIA could very much depend on the report I send to Laswell.” 

You watch as she nods, balling her hands into fists. 

“Good. Now I'm putting this to bed, it’s water under the bridge. We should all be professional while we’re stationed here.” He says turning back to you all. You all nod with a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ Emily nods too before turning and heading back down the hall. Everyone waits in silence until you hear the door to the barracks close. 

“Bit harsh, sir.” Simon says.

“Yeah well, her insistent flirting was starting to do my head in. Maybe now she’ll back off.” John says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You smile looking back over at Johnny. 

“Does this mean you’ll finally let me get what I deserve?” Johnny asks, winking at you.

“You’re the one who got us caught in the first place.” You say throwing the pillow back at him. 

“Si, put me out of my misery.” Johnny says pleading at Simon who just shakes his head and turns back to John’s office. 

“Gaz?” Johnny asks, turning to him. 

“Seems like you’ve been doing a good enough job yourself.” He chuckles, reaching over for his mug. 

“When’s Kate back?” You ask John. 

“End of next week. Try and keep it in your pants till then. The last thing I need is her going over my head.” John says, turning back to his office. 

“Can’t promise anything!” Johnny calls back as he closes the door. 

“You’re a menace.” Kyle tuts.

“Yeah but you love me.” Johnny winks at you. You sigh, shaking your head, yeah you do. Maybe you never had anything to worry about in the first place. 

____

Sory to anyone called Emily it genuanly just the first name that came in my head.

[lavenderhateswritting]

Heyyyyy so I lap up angst like a starving raccoon so could we mayhaps get the batkid’s reactions to your divorcee reader and Bruce’s separation? Ik in the original hc post you did you said that people had been asking/wondering why reader hadn’t left yet, so maybe seeing which Batfam members were on team divorce and which (if any) were on team parent-trap. If you we’re already planning on doing that, I was also wondering how Reader reacted to Jayson’s death and subsequent revival and how he handled Red Hood and the dynamics between his son and (then) hubby.

No pressure on this, I just love this idea and pretty don’t see people tackling Bruce’s serial rouge-kissing habits in the batmom/dad fics. I rlly love your take on it!!

I will totally be writting the fanfic about BatDad, Bruce and Jason's dynamic later because I would love to think about what that absolute mess will look like

Dick

Dick in my opinion was the person who was the most conflicted when it came to the divorce.

On one hand he had known you for as long as he had known Bruce and in his head you and Bruce were one connected entity. You worked off eachother well and supported each other. You stopped Bruce from going to far over the edge, constantly pulling him, away from the brink of obsession. He remembered watching you take care of Bruce on his worst nights and stich up both of them when they came home from rough missions. You guys worked well together and loved each other or at least he thought you did when he was younger.

Because on the other hand as he got older he started to realize that maybe it wasn't you both supporting each other, maybe it was just you supportng Bruce. You making sure Bruce didn't die. You making sure Bruce kept up with his civilian life. You forgiving Bruce after he found another way to let you down.

When he and Bruce were at their worst so angry that they couldn't even be in the same room together you still found a away to keep in touch. Half the time he was running around with the Titans blowing up at people over the smallest things and you still tried to invite him over for dinner. God. He just assumed you'd always be there even when he blew up at you or ignored your calls for weeks on end.

A world without you and Bruce together seemed impossible to imagine in a way, even after he realized it would probably be better for you if you and Bruce did divorce.

Jason

Jason was against you two getting a divorce probably the most out of anyone else.

He had seen you and Bruce at your best. His days in the manor were filled with you two takig him to school and museums. He remembered walking into the kitchen for breakfast and seeing Bruce fumble through trying to help you while you laughed at him. In his head you guys were perfect especially when compared to the relationship he saw between Catherine and Willis. You and Bruce loved eachother and often didn't even argue in front of him.

He also idealizes you and Bruce's relationship in the same way he idealizes everything before his death. The negative moments have been smoothed over with time and he rarely sees you two together anymore so there's nothing to prove him wrong in his idea.

For his enitre life even after his death you and Bruce were his example of what love was. He watched you two together and he truly believed that maybe someday he could love someone the way you two loved. Hearing about the divorce is kinda like realizing that maybe even the moments of his life he truly thought were good weren't.

How many times were you and Bruce angry at eachother, but didn't want to argue in front of him? How many nights did he walk into Bruce sleeping at his desk because he wasn't allowed back into the bedroom? How much of Batman's private talks with Catwoman were betrayals of your trust?

It makes him have to come to terms with the real sadness you were experiencing with a child and how even the best parts of his childhood weren't nearly as good as he thought.

Tim

Tim was anti divorce because he really didn't want to think about how Bruce would fall a part without you.

He saw Bruce after Jason died and you had nearly completly withdrawn from the relationship. He had to make sure that Bruce was okay and Bruce was pulling his punches because Bruce had lost his son and had basically lost his husband. He knows what Bruce does when you aren't their for him he spent his time making sure that Bruce without you didn't die.

So he doesn't want you two to get divorce and he even found out where you were staying to try and convince you to take Bruce back. Which did not work and just left you both in a screaming match.

You and Tim are both in seprate parts of your journey to realizing that it isn't your job to make sure Bruce is okay. In a way it frustrates him because he thought he understood you the most out of anyone. Others were wondering when you two would finally break it off and why you commited your life to Bruce, but he understood the fight to keep Batman alive even if it cut into your own life.

He gets even more upset with you as Bruce begins to fall a part in your absence. In his head you two were on a mission together and you just left. Tim likely doesn't get in contact with you for a long time after the divorce and if you guys do talk he's very short and to the point. I don't think the relationship gets better until he's later into his adult life and finally realizing he can't spend his life looking out for Bruce.

"Do you think he can ever get better." He asks you after crawling onto your balcony one night.

"I don't know, maybe, if he really wanted to, but you know its not your job to get him to that point its his." You guys sit there for a while and then he leaves and starts getting in contact more often.

Damian

Damian was pro divorce.

He had no about you as a person outside of the road bloack you had acted as towards his mother and father's relationship. He acts older than he is, but he is still a child and in a way wanted his parents to be together at the end of the day.

Whe he meets you he's even more pro the divorce. In his eyes you're weak and you make his father weak. You aren't a capable fighter or hyper inteligent like the rest of the family you're just a normal person and to him that makes you largely useless.

I think there are times when he is a little jealous about the way his other siblings describe the family and manor before the divorce. Outside of Tim and Jason most people could see the writing on the wall, but they still missed you. Dick was constantly talking about the way you would give him pep talks after bad nights out or fights with Bruce. Tim rarely talked about you, but when he did it was obvious that he found a kenship with you that ran deep even if he denied it. Jason acted like you were a saint who had never done anything wrong in your life which Damian doubted. Barbra talked about the nights you spent together cordinating the ever growing opperation across the city. Stephanie remembered how when she was just starting you truly did try your best to get Bruce to give her a chance and help her. Cassandra described you as kind and troubled even on your best days and Duke seemed to like you more than he liked Bruce most days.

There was a connection they all had to you that led to family dinners at your new home and late night meetups to talk about fears and hopes before the city called for them again. He didn't have that at least not with you and the mansion felt like a ghost town most nights.

Barbra

Barbra was pro divorce and had been for years at the point it happened.

She was further away from the situation than Dick and the rest of the boys and that's likely what made it obvious to her that you and Bruce simply didn't work. She watched as you forgave him constantly without ever being sure that he wouldn't hurt you again. Bruce was terrible for you and she was not going to let you pretend otherwise.

Barbra was around as long as Dick, but she wasn't burdened with nostalgia about the relationship. She watched as Bruce's lifestlye made it nearly impossible for you to have friends who cared about you and not just friends who were friends of Bruce. She watched while you were cheated on multiple times. She watched you have breakdowns next to Bruce's unconcious battered body wondering if he would ever wake up again.

She was very open about the dislike she had towards you two together she wasn't subtle either. She would send you links to divorce lawyers, couples therapy, or anonymous groups for failing marriages. She liked you and for a long time you and her were the ones who worked closest together. She didn't like watching Bruce breakdown what little of you there was left.

Sometimes she would watch you and Bruce together and think maybe she was wrong. Maybe there was love their that was great enough to come back from past failures. But the Bruce would break your heart again and she would be reminded of why you needed to leave.

Stephanie

Stephanie was pro divorce and she has said that to Bruce's face.

Stephanie didn't have the blinders on about Bruce being an amazing father or mentor because of the way he treated her when she first began to fight crime. During her short time as Robin she watched the way he treated you and it was just another check in the reasons why Batman is an ass list. Because for all the kindness and understanding that you showed Bruce he had a habit of acting like you being their was expected like it was your job to take care of him.

Stephanie and Bruce argued often and she has on multiple occasions called a cheater/manwhore who was going to be divorced. In her defense she definitely called it. She liked you and it frustrated her that you allowed for Bruce to just bulldoze over your life for so long.

After the divorce she definitely went to your house and said she was there to cheer you. It devolved into you both bitching about the worst moments in your relationships with Bruce and calling him an ass.

She's happy for you. Proud that you finally found a way out of it all.

Cassandra

Cassandra was pro divorce.

She had a view of Bruce that was developed through him saving her and showing her a path in life toward being a person she could be proud of. I think that Bruce's relationship with you was definitely a moment for her where she learned that Bruce was better as a symbol than a person most days.

She watched the way the days weighed on you. She could see the exhaustion in your body even when you were happy. She could also tell that you and Bruce loved eachother. You and Bruce were madly in love with eachother, but that didn't really change anything. She was pro divorce from the moment she saw you two together to be honest.

She also worried because she and Bruce were so alike. They both had a devotion to the cause that others at times found hard to understand. In a way I think she started to worry about what someone who fell in love with her would have to deal with because she didn't want to treat them like Bruce treated you.

I'd like to think she has on multiple occasions grabbed your are and told you its okay to leave. She was very happy for you when you finally did.

Holy shit this was a long one. I'm sorry for not adding Duke I just really haven't read anything with him in it and I have no clue how he acts

[yoiisa]

HIHI SOFIEE!! I wanted to make a request for Sakura Haruka X fem!reader (or gn!reader if you prefer) from Wind breaker.

So we all know Sakura is INCREDIBLY shy at anything slightly romantic and it goes without saying then when he enters a romantic relationship he'd be SO damn nervous and it'd take like a long ass time for him to initiate anything 💔 His s/o would probably be taking most of the first steps in their relationship.

So how about a reader who likes to tease Sakura and is pretty confident when initiating stuff but on the rare few times Sakura's the one initiating anything, they get SOO flustered its exactly like Sakura😋 And although they LOVE when Sakura's taking the lead they're too shy to say anything. The first time Sakura kisses them before they do, they almost faint from too much blood rushing to their head 💔

I will follow u home and order food for u if u write this 🙏🙏 Thank you for reading 😝

mwahaha i love writing chaotic reader fics more than anything, it's so much fun when they have actual personalities ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

➜ the idea that sakura haruka had a crush on you was first brought up to you by suo, who lives for the drama ➜ as a result of this newfound information, you take notice of sakura's behavior around you more frequently and see that suo was in fact telling the truth ➜ sakura blushes more easily around you, he always tries to keep distance between you two but still sends glances your way constantly, and his soft smiles are mostly reserved primarily for you ➜ sakura does have a crush on you ➜ what transpires is the romantic cat and mouse game of the century. after all, you also live for the drama ➜ due to his romantic sensor, sakura realizes that you know his feelings very quickly, since you start flirting with him a lot ➜ you play with his hair, you stare intently into his eyes whenever he talks to you, you purposefully brush your fingers against his whenever you get a chance to ➜ he can't stand. although he knows in the back of his mind that you're not the kinda person to do this, he can't help but feel like all your flirtations are just a way to mess with him, and you're not being serious. trauma! am i right? ➜ so to get even, he starts trying to be more bold around you ➜ he brings you small presents- trinkets he thinks you might like- and he stops trying to distant himself from you all the time. he speaks more freely to you, and brings you food a lot more now ➜ when you start acting like him, his fears of you being disingenuous are quelled, and he realizes that you do like him a lot actually ➜ it still takes some work on both of your parts to get together, but by the time it happens, suo's thirst for drama is quelled ➜ and sakura couldn't be happier to have you on his arm, even if he's a blushing mess through a lot of it

The last time you spoke to Sakura was a few days ago. He did something that spooked you so bad that you were constantly on edge. You couldn't fathom even leaving your bedroom, you were so embarrassed, but your mom still forced you out of the house every day for school. What was it that Sakura did? Tried to hold your hand. (Oh the horror!) His hand was so gentle and warm! Your felt the tiny calluses against your skin, and his fingers squeezed your skin as he closed his fingers around your hand. "W-w-what are you doing?!" you asked, your voice high pitched and squeaky. "What was that?!" Sakura blinked at you, his face going pale as you ripped your hand out of his. Suddenly, it became bright red and he shouts, "Well I . . . I- I don't know! You've been brushing your hand against mine all the time and playing with my fingers! I thought . . . I figured I'd just hold it! It's obvious you wanted me to!" You're affronted. "No I did not!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Go away Sakura!" and you ran all the way back home. Now, you were running your hand through your hair as you walked to school, mulling over how to face Sakura after that fiasco. Should you apologize? He was right after all, you were always playing with his hands, and his hair and- You get snapped out of your thoughts as someone gets shoved in front of you. You stare down at the boy, before he straightens up and your brain shortcircuits. Sakura. "Hurry up and talk to her, we have work to do." You peer around the corner and see Kaji standing there, his hands in his pockets and his headphones around his neck, watching the two of you with an intense annoyance. Behind the white haired boy is Nirei with an exhasperated smile on his face and his hands up, and Suo with a shit eating smirk. That pirate bastard, he started all of this in the first pla- "Look," Sakura starts. You divert your attention back to him, and your heart speeds as you see how cute he looks. His cheeks are pink and his pupils dilated. In his amber eye, the glow is particularly noticeable and your heart squeezes inside your chest. He takes a deep breath and rubs the back of his neck. "You and I like each other. And don't even try to deny it because Suo already told me everything!" That fucking- You gasp softly as Sakura takes you hand in his. Warm, soft . . . He stares deep into your eyes and says deeply, "So . . . can we just cute the bullshit," his voice becomes deeper and quieter, so you have to lean in to hear him, "and date?" He's so boyish right now, the charm sending your brain reeling and butterflies fluttering in your stomach. After a few moments of silence, you manage, "Y-yeah. Let's just date." When he meets your eyes, you smile and say quietly, "Sorry for teasing you so much." He sighs and shakes his head, "It's fine . . . don't worry about-" "Alright enough. Let's go," Kaji says, grabbing Sakura by the back of his collar and dragging him away with the rest of the furin boys. You can hear Sakura yowling like a cat at how Kaji ruined the moment, and it's so adorable you can't help but giggle. That's your man now, after all.

A/N: Sakura definitely gets the worst cuteness aggression in the world. My pretty little baby!

[camerahaterlittle]

Princesa | Ingrid Engen & Mapi Leon

Warnings: Bad writing grammer and Mapi is a part of this fic if that makes you uncomfortable please don't read and mentions of possibly having a small child and a bit of google translated spainsh and norwegian oh and throwing up mentions

Previous part

Notes: this took me longer than it should've honestly

By month one, you're as big as a poppy seed during this time. Ingrid is entirely fine, somewhat alone, while Mapi is busy with training and games but Mapi doesn't really believe Ingrid always wanting to get out of training just to be there for her because she read something about the first three months being the most riskiest parts of pregnancy since you could lose the baby.

Ingrid is a bit more irritable during this time since her hormones are through the roof, so she's slightly annoyed with Mapi's concern and hovering, yet she knows the Spaniard has the best intentions in mind so she keeps those thoughts to herself (she told both Frido and Frida already the both of them dying with laughter yet still trying to understand).

Mapi is always making sure that no one is being too rough to her standards with Ingrid because she doesn't want to risk anything, so that includes warning Aitana about constantly jumping on Ingrid's back making Ingrid give her piggyback rides or the youngsters roughhousing with her when she sat by just watching training happen.

By month two, you're as big as a kidney bean. Ingrid's symptoms have gotten a bit worse the tiredness she felt from before changing to sore breasts the morning sickness she experienced before changing to spotting something that concerned Mapi so she ended up forcing the Norwegian to the doctors only to find out it's completely normal she later got slapped on the back of the head by Ingrid then the next day by Alexia once she found out.

"Her heart's developing now," Mapi's voice comes through the phone one late night echoing around the walls of their shared bedroom. "And her brain is too. i think she'll be smart do you think she'll be smart."

"Once again, Maps, we don't even know if it's a girl yet." Ingrid says, turning over onto her other side, adjusting the way her phone was being held in her grip yawning for some reason Mapi's voice was feeling like a warm blanket to the Norwegian making her want to fall asleep.

"But once again, my beautiful wife, I know it's a girl I have that feeling." Mapi replies in an instant, not waiting a single moment to respond her tone holding a sense of finality in it. "And she's gonna be a mini you just a mini Ingrid running around the house."

"She's your egg, so maybe it's gonna be a mini you Maps your genes may just be stronger." Ingrid loved the idea of a mini Mapi running around same with a mini her, but what she loved even more was the way Mapi had called her her beautiful wife the thought of marriage had been on both of their minds but it had yet to come up.

Ingrid could hear the smirk as Mapi replied, "I made you admit she's a girl." Mapi's tone was incredibly smug, clearly proud that she had gotten Ingrid to admit she was a girl this made the Norwegian groan and playfully ignore her girlfriend.

Near the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime. The morning sickness has found its way back somehow hitting Ingrid harder than it did before, so she spent more over the toilet than anywhere else.

"This reminds me of our party days," Mapi says one day while holding Ingrid's hair back while she was sitting on her knees rubbing the Norwegian's back.

"Maps, those days weren't too long ago. We're not old we both are still young." Ingrid replied, rubbing her forehead as she tried not to gag even further, knowing it'd result in her throwing up once more.

"Well, I'm more mature now than before. You've always been mature, so you couldn't have grown more mature." Mapi chuckled at the end of her sentence, finding herself hilarious for that, but it only resulted in her getting elbowed in the ribs even though she wasn't entirely wrong at all.

At month four, you're the size of an avocado (per Mapi's words anyways).

The morning sickness and spotting have finally stopped, but the sore breasts don't subside sadly since they've been bothering Ingrid. That was something both Ingrid and Mapi were glad for (Ingrid joked that her girlfriend was more glad about the spotting stopping than she was).

Ingrid was getting ready to go to one of Barcelona's games ready to show her support, but when she took off her shirt, she got ready to change into Aitana's jersey when her hands subconsciously went to her stomach she was surprised to see her bump in the mirror but also feel it.

She swore she didn't cry, yet she had to rinse her face off because her eyes decided to cosplay waterfalls that day. Mapi did, in fact, cry when she felt the bump against her when she hugged the Norwegian and she didn't ever try to deny it always admitting it with pride and that was something that always made the team laugh yet they were happy to see their teammate so happy.

At month five, you're the same size as a banana.

The moment Mapi found out you could find out the gender they were there at the ob trying even if they already had a feeling you were a girl (Mapi had the feeling more than Ingrid).

"Why do we have to wait to find out the gender of our baby Ingrid just why" Mapi's said her tone filled with a bit of confusion and desperation since she wanted to find out the gender badly and this made Alexia chuckle suddenly glad that she came with the couple.

"Because Mapi we both agreed for the small gender reveal for the baby," Ingrid replied, handing Alexia the paper. "You may be sure our baby is a girl, but we can't be for sure."

Alexia held the paper already, knowing what her job was for the time being. Ingrid had given her the run down, which was basically take the paper, then give it to Olga so she could plan the small little reveal.

By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.

You're now moving a lot more now. Ingrid will never forget the one time Mapi was talking to you, informing you about the recent game she had played along with everything else possible. When she was mid sentence, you kicked Mapi straight in the hand, just barely missing her face, and this made your mother's bust out laughing it was then they playfully argued if you would be a midfielder or a defender (you would be neither really.)

Ingrid had her hand resting on her baby bump when the team plus Olga came strolling into the living room holding a cake. "We have cake and presents." The couple wasn't sure who exactly said that because they were more focused on everything everyone ended up bringing with them.

Everyone gathered around on the couches and some of the floor as Olga out the cake down on the coffee table, opening the lid and taking it out of the box before Alexia jogged into the kitchen grabbing a knife making sure to be careful with it as she handed Ingrid the knife "If it's pink it's a girl if it's blue it's a boy the typical colors I think" Alexia's voice boomed over the teams catching the attention of everyone in the room.

"It'll be pink. i know it will be," Mapi spoke up, her tone filled with confidence that the cake would, in fact, be pink on the inside.

Ingrid only rolled my eyes, shaking her head fondly before she finally cut into the cake, cutting out a slice. When she saw the pink, she smiled at the sight, knowing they were having their little princesa soon.

"It's a girl were having a baby girl." Ingrid was only looking at Mapi. When she spoke, Mapi immediately brought Ingrid into her arms, her smile bigger than ever possible this was the best day of both of their lives.

Month seven, you're the same size as a large aubergine.

Mapi's been talking to you a lot more ever since the doctors told her that you could finally actually hear her, so she's been yapping about anything possible whether that's be what she did during the day or how your gonna be the best defender yet.

And every time Mapi is speaking to you, you stay kicking and moving almost as if you're proving to her that you're actually listening to what she's saying per the Spaniard's words anyways and every time she tells Ingrid this the Norwegian always had to hold back her laugh.

But yet Ingrid ends up almost in tears every time her girlfriend is speaking to you since Mapi's words are somehow the softest and sweetest things Ingrid's ever heard a day in her life.

Month eight finally comes, and you're the same size as a cabbage.

Ingrid's back is aching constantly, and you've finally found her bladder, and you are currently enjoying sitting on it, so she has to take bathroom breaks more than she'd like.

Ingrid's only relief is when Mapi decides to carefully lift up Ingrid's baby bump, taking off a bit of weight letting the Norwegian sag against her and enjoy the feeling of not having that much weight anymore.

When month nine finally rolls around, you're the same as a head of lettuce.

Your mother's has been arguing about names for the last couple of weeks and have yet to settle on a single name. Somehow Aitana, Keira, and Frido have been roped into this conversation and have been throwing out name suggestions, all of which the couple are thankful for.

Your last name is still up for a debate they still have yet to decide which last name is gonna go first so is your middle name (Frida has been secretly putting her name out there and Ingrid has yet to caught on).

Every time Ingrid sees your little fingers poking the skin of her stomach she has to resist the urge to gag every time she sees the disturbing sight she'll never get used to seeing that happen.

By month ten (both Ingrid and Mapi feel like their lives are a lie because pregnancy is apparently not only nine months), you're the size of a pumpkin.

Ingrid feels like she's ready to pop but restless at the same time because they've yet to pick out any names. Mapi has been hovering more than at the start, wanting to make sure Ingrid is okay. The only thing is Ingrid just wants their little princesa out already.

[sukunas-wife]

i just wanna start and say that i luvvv ur blog and the dad sukuna fics are giving me life (🙏🏾). plsss could i ask 4 a scenario of yuuji being a menace 4 once. like 1 of the things he and sukuna can agree on is that no one touches or speaks 2 momma without permission, but a new servant doesn't know that?

🤔 I see what’s going on you want Yuji to bite people well he NOT KINDA BRAT, he latches on and shakes his head like a feral dog 😭😭 grrr

Idk what I was doing and where my plot came from I think I just pulled it out the air 😭

“Lady Y/n!” You turned looking over at the eunuch who had been persistently following you all week. The poor young man according to the servants and your hand maids had grown “quite fond” of you. You looked over at Yuji, he had long run into the garden, sighing when your hand maids were stuck between going after Yuji or staying by your side. You waved them off when the eunuch got closer, “Ah, feels like I’ve been seeing you a lot lately. Especially outside the Palace walls.” You looked past him and he smiled, eyes becoming lidded. Silence filled the space and you gave him a sympathetic smile, “Did you need something or did you just run all this way to greet me Kamo?” You risked your arms into your sleeves eyeing the way he fidgeted with his hands. “I guess I came here just to greet you Lady Y/n..” he looked away, the blush on his cheeks was proof enough your ladies in waiting were right… Before you could dismiss him he spoke up with a hopeful look, “would you mind if I stood by your side for today Lady Y/n?” As much as you hated the idea of letting someone who’s not your husband or son be by your side all day, you had to think about it. You should say no because it would look bad if anyone were to notice him constantly at your side. Second, you don’t want to make a bad impression on Sukuna, he was your husband and you didn’t want to make him believe the rumours running around his own Palace.

“I appreciate your eagerness but the answer is no. I’m spending today with Yuji and I’m not allowing anything to take away from his time.” You dismissed him with a wave and he still smiled, “It’s alright, thank you Lady y/n. Maybe I can join you for the next time you feel like taking a walk in the garden.” You had already turned away but he held out hope, “Thank you for the offer Kamo but you really should get back to work.” You look over your shoulder at him with a faint smile, he nodded and ran off back to place and into the Curses den. The poor kid didn’t see Lord Sukuna lurking about watching the entire scene unfold. Sukun watched as you smiled over your shoulder in his general direction making his chest swell with pride, he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. It was that fool of a eunuch who would need to be taught his place.

————-

Yuji was by your side pulling your sleeve’s, “cmmooonnn mooomm Wanna goooooo” he ended up falling and lying on the floor looking up at you. He was spread out and he huffed. “I don’t want that eunuch to come he talks too mucchhhaaaahhh” his whine turned into a scream while he shook his head back and forth on the ground, “Yuji baby get up your gonna dirty.” You tried to help him up and he just laid limp in your hold, “Are we leaving now?”

“Yes we can go before Kamo shows up if you really don’t like him THAT much.” Yuji laid there while you tried to stand him up before he got “Mkay let’s go.” Yuji took your hand guiding you to the door and right when he opened it there was the voice that made him squint over his shoulder, “NO! GO AWAY KAMO!” You were amused how Yuji stuck his tongue out at the Eunuch while trying to drag you through the door into the garden again. You didn’t fight him and let him drag you doing your best to keep up. When he finally stopped, Yuji looked around, even jumping to look over a bush, “daddy doesn’t like him, he says he tried to talk to you toooo much.” He was waving his hands around exaggerating his point, “he said next time he tried to get close to take you away or fight him!” You watch as Yuji looked up at you holding little fists, his little round face was full of determination. You could help but kneel and place your hand on his head running it over the side of his face cupping his cheek. “Yuji you don’t have to worry about fighting that poor eunuch, there is nothing I would choose over you or Ryomen.”

He shook his head back and forth vigorously “nuh uh! Daddy said you’d say that and I shouldn’t listen!” You hugged Yuji, confusing him “awww my little Yu.” He leaned against you taking in your hug. “What else did daddy tell you, hm?”

———

There you sat with your husband, dressed up in vibrant Junihitoe with over 20 layers. Sukuna wore his usual attire, you were holding onto one of his arms listening to him talk about how Yuji had done well in his own training and along those lines. It was well into spring when the days were getting hotter and becoming longer summer days. Sukuna watched how you’d fan yourself closing your eyes for a brief moment of relief before leaning your head on his arm. He could feel your heat and there was no doubt in his mind it was all those layers in your silly little robes. He had a great idea, slowly he led you inside where you found relief out of the sun but those layers were still clinging to you in uncomfortable ways. When you were going to pull away Sukuna pulled you back into his side leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Now let’s get you out of those robes, your skins burning like all those nights I spent memorising every curve of your body.” The flush on your face flared up when you held onto him tighter, burying your face in his arm, “Ryomen!” You tried to scold him while he led you to the large bathing room. He took you in kissing you once the door was closed, he spared no time in stripping himself taking a step into the pool of cold water. A second step his hands were on your waist while you held his face kissing him, he mumbled against your lips “Let’s get these off of you.” He pressed his lips against your neck grazing you with his teeth, you tried to hold in your giggles when his hands opened your robes, letting his hands run over your sides while he bit into your skin sucking and marking you with a bright red mark, grazing his teeth over your skin when he made it to your chest. Your laughed and playful whispers could be heard outside the room and it left nothing to the imagination of what could be happening. This was a sign most servants took as “Don’t interrupt Lord Sukuna and Lady Y/n.” All except for one who walked in immediately after knocking. Kamo.. he was damn lucky Sukuna was just starting to slide your robes off your shoulders, you would’ve tried to push yourself away from Sukuna but he was your husband, what did you have to hide. Sukuna was too proud of his own physique to even think about maybe committing some form of decency. There you stood in his tight hold pulling you closer to the water, he rested his chin on your shoulder looking past you right at Kamo. He was smug about his situation, staring right at the eunuch, “What is it Kamo.” He couldn’t say anything, just staring at the both of you trying to think of something before Ryomen became annoyed, “I’ve killed better people for less,” he stood up, a set of arms still holding your waist and robes in place, there was no missing that Ryomen was in fact a man gifted not once but twice. He took that to his advantage when he noticed Kamo take a second look after he stepped from around you, “Speak now or lose your life, you better have a damn good reason for interrupting MY time with MY WIFE.” Just as Kamo was going to speak up, Yuji came running “Daddy DADDDY DADDY!” He stopped seeing his dad standing there in his full glory, “naked naked naked!” He closed his eyes when he pointed and laughed at his dad who just dead panned before turning to the eunuch, “Stop staring at my wife before you lose your living privileges and bring some towels.” He sent Kamo off and Yuji was still laughing behind his hand seeing his dad naked. You closed your robes, “Now that you're here Yuji you do need a bath.” You snatched him up before he could run out the door, Sukuna rolled his eyes “Great interrupted by the Eunuch and now that he’s gone you invite the brat.” Sukuna stared unamused as Yuji stripped jumping into the water, “‘m a fish”

———

It was a few days later when you were talking to one of your ladies in waiting and Yuji saw it. The way Kamo approached you reaching out to touch you to get your attention. He went running and screaming, the three of you turned to look at him, each of you confused until you noticed Yuji wasn’t running at you. He was running at Kamo who was about to touch you without your permission. It happens in slow motion how he jumped, little legs wrapping around his knee, the way his hands were clinging to the eunuch. He opened his mouth wide, threw his head back and made an exaggerated biting sound before he latched onto Kamo’s side. Your lady in waiting was shocked and you were just as speechless watching the eunuch try to pull Yuji off only for him to bite harder. Through the yells and little growls you could hear “don toufch mhh mhmmy” and he went back to shaking his head left and right.

Finally you came to your senses and tried to help take Yuji off of him, just as you took hold of Yuji Kamo winced and managed to hit you. Yuji let go and gasped very dramatically, he slipped out of your hands when your lady in waiting ran over to you to see if you were okay. You stood up holding your cheek staring at Kamo, as much as you’d like to take blame for Yuji biting him he shouldn’t have been trying to touch in the first place. You saw Yuji with his fists up “YOU HIT MY MOMMY” he swung hitting Kamo right in his manhood.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread, before you knew it Sukuna had you sitting in your seperate room. Yuji was going to follow his dad out of the room until he gave him a silent look, making him turn around and run back to you. He stood in front of you laying his chest and arms on your lap looking up at you with a small smile, “you're so pretty mommy.”

You laughed at his words shaking your head with a smile, “Aw my little prince Yuji here to make me feel better hm?” He stretched his arms up so you’d pull him into your lap. You did and he smiled at his reflection, you were sitting in front of the vanity in your room. He pouted looking up at you, “you okay?” He started to bite his finger when you looked down at him with teary eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault in some way. “Yeah it’s just been a long day Yu.”

He hummed, swinging his legs and falling limp in your arms, “daddy said he’s gonna fix him..” you were confused there was no doubt in your mind Ryomen would kill the man on sight once he faced him.

Time passed to the point that both of you got bored of waiting and ended up on the bed listening to Yuji ramble about how he was so cool and how could beat Sukuna in a fight. One day he was gonna have his own big temple and you could live with him because there wouldn’t be nasty old eunuchs running around.

“Hey brat, that's my wife, she's not going with you to your house or anywhere at all.” Yuji was quick to jump up and run over when you slowly sat up on the bed, “Dad!” Sukuna grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up and onto his shoulder giving him a little bag, Yuji opened it, looked in and closed it throwing it on the floor making a loud “eeeewww”

Sukuna looked at you, you looked back at him, he didn’t seem too happy. He walked over to you bringing his hand up, you didn’t look away when he took your face in his hand shaking his head.

“I’m alright Ryo…” his thumb rubbed your cheek, “He’s not.” Yuji shivered, leaning over on his dads head to tell you “Look in the bag.”

Sukuna side eyed Yuji who looked away, “what’s in the- the balls he had that made him think he could lift his hand.”

“But he’s a- he wasn’t, he became a eunuch a few hours ago and now he is gone.” Sukuna’s face was smug when he flipped Yuji off his shoulder and onto your bed, “Now there’s something I want to finish that he interrupted.” He nodded at the door and you felt your face heat up, “y-yeah.” Yuji was busy laughing and rolling over in your bed to notice his parents little game of bedroom eyes.😭

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[rabesbabe]

Silver Soul

Jackie Taylor x Fem!Reader

part one ➴ part two part three

Summary: You accidentally injure Jackie one day during practice and your relationship with her starts to bloom.

A/N: Jackie is such a cutie and she literally did no wrong the entire series (fight w me idc). But I’m hoping YJ tumblr is still alive idk? Enjoy this fic tho ! (Not proofread)

“Oh my god.”

Your mouth is agape as you watch the ball you kicked hit Jackie Taylor straight in the nose.

The whole team stood and watched in shock as the ball coming from the complete opposite end of the field smacks her straight in the face.

The best way to describe Jackie in your words was perfect. And you weren’t jealous of her or anything. You liked who you were and all but it was just true. Jackie had amazing grades, she was the captain of the soccer team and, from what you knew she came from a good family.

Even though you had been on the same team as her for two years now, you guys never really became anything more than acquaintances. You waved at her in the halls and she did the same but that was kind of it. You guys had different social circles and shared a few classes but never talked in them. She wasn’t anything to you really besides your teammate.

You ran as fast as you could to the other side of the field to help Jackie who was now clutching her nose and wincing in pain.

“Wait, Y/N!” You heard Natalie call out to you. And as you were running you looked back to see what Nat was calling after you about.

When suddenly you ran straight into Jackie and you both fell to the ground.

You grab your head and wince. Jesus did you have to be this clumsy?

Opening your eyes you see Taissa offering you her hand and laughing while Van does the same for Jackie.

As you stand up, you look at Jackie, her face was red from the impact and her eyes looked glossy. You felt like the worst person in the world.

“Shit, Jackie, I’m so sorry.” You say.

She winced again as she looks at you and tries her best to smile through the pain. “It’s totally fine. You didn’t mean to.”

Still feeling like satan himself you offer to take her to the nurse.

“Yeah that’d be great.” She says.

As you and Jackie make your way to the side of the field Nat catches up with you.

“Way to go Y/N,” She says, teasing you.

“Now, is not the time to be an asshole.” You say to her halfway joking.

You and Nat had been best friends since practically the first day of kindergarten. You had caught her outside throwing rocks at kids during recess, and since that was right up your alley, you joined her. Ever since then you guys have been inseparable. And constantly being menaces towards everyone together.

Nat waves you off and walks back to the field. You turn your attention to Jackie and stop her so that you can move her hands from her face. You Inspect her nose and it was most definitely bleeding but, it looked okay. You were shocked at how powerful you could kick.

“It should be fine.” You say smiling a little at Jackie.

She nods not seeming to believe you.

The walk to the nurses office was filled with awkward silence. You had no idea what to say to her. You just kicked her in the face and then basically tackled her. You were shocked she didn’t hate your guts.

As you walk to the door you realize that since it’s after school the nurse isn’t gonna be inside the office.

“Uhm. I kinda forgot that she wasn’t gonna be here.” You say awkwardly to Jackie who somehow, was giving you her award winning smile even though her nose was literally bleeding onto her jersey.

“It’s fine I can just get ice when I get home.” She says, shuffling her feet.

“Or I could get us into the office without a key?” You say smirking.

She looks up at you, her hazel eyes glowing with disapproval. “There’s cameras? Don’t you think they’ll see us.”

“So what? Are they gonna give us detention for stealing an Ice pack?” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

The corner of her mouth turned upwards and she smiles a bit but still looks worried.

“Come on Jackie, live a little.” You look down at the lock and grab a hairpin.

In about 3 minutes you were into the office.

Jackie looks at you her mouth slightly open.

“Wow, you didn’t think I could do it did you?” You look at her with a fake offended face on.

“No I definitely didn’t. But, you did.” She says giggling.

Still feeling very responsible for her obvious pain you say, “Here sit on one of the beds I’ll grab the ice pack.”

Looking around the nurses office you find the freezer and grab some ice. You put it into a plastic bag and wrap a paper towel around it.

“Scooch.” You say and you sit next to her on the nurses bed.

You gently grab her chin and inspect her face noticing that the bleeding stopped.

“Wait.” You say getting an idea. You go into the bathroom get some tissue and wet it with cold water.

When you get back over to her you notice she’s already shifted back into where you were sitting.

You playfully roll your eyes at her. “Cmon, schooch again.”

You sit back down and grab her face again. This time you move closer your faces are only inches away from each other. You gently wipe the blood off her face. Her breathing starts to falter a little and you look her in the eyes. “God, the ball must’ve hit you hard, you can barely breathe from the pain.”

Her cheeks go a light shade of pink that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to her. “Uhm. Yeah it hit me pretty hard.” She says.

“Sorry again.” You say.

A little out of it from the throbbing coming from her face and her proximity to you at the moment, Jackie bursted out laughing. Very confused since nothing funny happened, you look at her.

“What?” You say starting to laugh a little yourself.

“Nothing,” She says trying to catch her breath. “You’re just like the clumsiest person i’ve ever met.”

“Asshole,” you laugh out.

“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who kicked me.” she exclaims, attempting to stifle her laugh.

You narrow your eyes at her playfully and hand her the ice pack.

“Now you’re back to the beautiful normal Jackie,” You say. “All that blood was not doing you justice.” You joke.

She blushes at your words slightly and you notice but brush it off as her face just being red from earlier.

Getting up from the bed she looks down at her wrist, checking the time. “Practice is probably over now.”

“Yeah. We should go and get changed.”

-⚽️-

After changing and showering you walk with Nat to your car. You guys stop there for a bit and chat.

“Is she coming over here?” You say furrowing your eyes and looking into the distance.

Across the parking lot was Jackie, smiling at you and Nat, in her perfect little outfit.

“You kick a girl in the face one time and now she’s obsessed.” Natalie says smirking while taking a drag from a cigarette.

You elbow Nat in the side at her sarcasm causing her to drop her cig. “Ouch?!” Clutching at her side she looks at you. When Jackie reaches your car she stops right in front of you and Natalie.

“Uh hey Jackie.” You say weerily.

“Hi.” She says, giving you that smile she gave everyone when she wanted something. You had seen it before a million times. And it worked every single time.

“Did you need something?” You ask.

“Yeah actually, I was wondering if you could drive me home?” She Bats her eyelashes at you innocently.

Nat gives you a confused look and you shoot one right back at her. Why was she suddenly talking to you?

You try to think of an excuse to say no. You had a routine after school. You got coffee at your favorite place and studied. Sometimes Nat came along if she wasn’t working. And then after school you’d watch movies or hangout with friends and smoke. Driving Jackie Taylor home was not apart of that routine.

“Doesn’t Shauna take you home? I thought you guys always like hungout after practice or something.”

“It’s totally fine! She’ll survive one day without us hanging out. Plus you owe me after today.” She smiles at you again.

Nat buts in. “Yeah you owe her Y/N, drive the nice girl home.” She says trying to annoy you.

You look over at Nat and give her a look that she immediately understands as “I’m literally going to kill you if you don’t leave right now.” Nat laughs and walks to her car. “I’ll call you later Y/N.” She yells to you before getting in.

You flip her off and yell back, “Please don’t!”

Jackie looks at you again and asks, “So are you gonna drive me or not?”

You just sigh and open the door for her.

She squeals and gets in.

“Oh, by the way I usually stop for coffee so I guess you have to come with me.” You say starting the car up.

“Fine by me.” She says.

You guys pull out of the parking lot and drive for a while in silence. You notice Jackie looking over at you every now and then and you try your best to ignore it.

“So, are you gonna play music?” She asks looking at you expectantly.

“If you want,” You shrug. “There’s a few cassettes in the glove compartment right there.”

She opens the glove compartment and gasps. “The Smashing Pumpkins!”

You look over at her doubtful. “You know them?”

“Duh.” She says rolling her eyes. You laugh and she puts the tape in.

1979 starts playing and she rolls her window down poking her head out.

Finally, you both make it to the coffee shop. You park and walk in.

Jackie looks around seeming to be impressed by the place. “This is really nice,” She says. “You come here everyday?”

You nod. “Yeah basically, I just come here to study for tests and things.”

You get to the register and tell the barista your order and so does Jackie. You go to pay for the coffee when Jackie grabs your hand. “Something wrong?” You say confused.

“My treat!” She says smiling. You step back and let her pay.

While Jackie waited for the coffee you grab a table. She sits down and hands you your coffee. “Thanks for paying by the way.” You say and smile a little at her.

“Anytime!” She says enthusiastically. She was constantly happy it was almost annoying.

You guys study for a while talking about random things. Jackie gets silent for a bit and you look up at her. She looked like she was super deep in thought about something.

“So are you like dating anyone?” She asks avoiding your gaze.

You look up confused as to why she wanted to know but you answered anyway. “Uh no not technically I guess.” You said. You weren’t really lying. You and this girl talked on and off but nothing ever really came of it besides a few kisses at parties every now and then. Your love life was practically nonexistent.

Jackie nodded. “What about you? Aren’t you seeing that dude. I can’t remember his name isn’t it like Jack?”

She chuckles. “Jeff. And no we broke up while ago.”

“Oh,” You say. “That sucks.”

She sips her coffee. “Yeah it’s whatever I don’t really like him anyways,” She looks down. “I don’t know if I ever did to be honest.”

Now you were curious. You look at her and notice she’s doodling on her hands. “What do you mean?” You inquire.

“Well, I don’t know.” She sighs. “It’s nothing.” Her hands start fidgeting with her pen and she breaks eye contact with you.

You were shocked by her mood shift. You’d never seen her look unsure of herself before. The only Jackie you’d ever known was the confident self-assured one.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure your feelings are valid. Relationships are complicated. And any guy is lucky to have you Jackie.” You smile at her trying to make her feel better.

She looks up at you and smiles. “You’re not so bad yourself Y/N. Any guy is lucky to date you too.”

You almost spit out your coffee at her words. “Guy?” You say laughing.

She looks at you confused until it clicks and she widens her eyes. “Oh! I- Sorry I didn’t know.”

Laughing you say, “I’m surprised you didn’t?”

“Does everyone else know?” She asks baffled.

“Basically. And Im not the only one on the team you know?” You explain taking a sip of your coffee.

“What?!” She says, “Who else?”

You rest your head in your hand as if trying to recall who else. “Well, Van, Taissa, Nats Bi, and so is Lottie.”

She looks at you, her mouth agape. “Am I really this blind?”

You giggle at her “I guess so.”

You both stayed in the coffee shop longer than you normally do. You and Jackie actually got a long very well and it came as a shock to you. You were still a little confused as to why she even was hanging around you but it was refreshing. And you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her naturally gorgeous hair, which seemed to always look like it was freshly blown out, the curve of her nose, her beautiful big eyes.

That night when you got home Jackie infiltrated your thoughts. You thought about her while eating dinner, while showering and, while you went to bed. You couldn’t get her off your mind and you already knew where this was going. You spent one day with her and now you had a crush on her. Was she really that intoxicating?

[bunniebubbleswrites]

My Love, Mine, All Mine

Agatha Harkness x F! Reader Chapter 1: Welcome to Westview | Chapter 2

A/N: Okay first time writing for Agatha so please forgive me, also this fic just stemmed from an loose idea I had when watching WandaVision, but I hope everyone enjoys it! Be warned there very well might be smut later on. Words: 1,244 Warnings/Tags: None for this chapter,not beta read,slow-burn Summary: You were living a peacful life in Westview when Wanda Maximoff rolled into town and with her arrival came Agatha's as well.

You had moved to Westview to get away from it all. Your old life, your old coven, and Agatha Harkness.

You had kept a low profile for years. Not staying in one place too long, constantly changing who you were to hide. Keeping to the old ways, only using your magic when you had to.

When you moved to Westview, you did it out of necessity. Just like you did everything, but the small town was growing on you. The longer you stayed, the longer you put off running.

It was almost perfect, but one thing was missing. Something you would never get back, and you had tried.

For the most part everything was normal, you had a job at the local library and were close to your neighbors. Everything you had told them was true, just with a little tweaking. You changed dates, and left out the murdery bits. You had been a different witch back then.

The Darkhold had corrupted you. You were glad it was out of your hands, even if you fought it at first.

Agatha had been your friend, at first. You had both just lost everything. She had lost her only son, and your coven had banished you. They were kind enough to let you walk away with your magic intact.

You and Agatha had run together for years, committing unspeakable acts if evil. Everything in you told you to hate her, but you just couldn't.

The last you you has seen her she had taken the Darkhold and you both fought, blasting magic at each other. You knew it was futile but you fought her anyways. You were surprised you came out of that fight alive.

The only witch to fight Agatha Harkness and walk out alive was a feat in and of itself. You never understood why she left you alive, but maybe it was because she felt something for you, like you did for her.

When Wanda Maximoff came rolling into town, you were lounging on your couch, your familiar laying on your lap. A book in one hand, the other on your familiars head, giving gentle scratches. A soft humming coming from your lips.

The blast from the Hex made you fall of your couch, your familiar going down with you. The book went flying from your hands and landed on the other side of your coffee table.

"Marceline, you okay?" You said as you sit up, the hidden runes on your walls glowing pink. Your familiar meows at you and makes her way around the couch. You groan as you plop back onto the floor and close your eyes.

Marceline lets out another meow. You open your eyes and Marceline's yellow eyes bore into yours.

"Fine I'll go check it out." You sigh as you sit up again and stand. You walk over towards the large window.

You pull back your curtains just slightly. Your eye's widen at the sight. The entire world was black and white. The flowers in your garden, your car, the purple of your front door. You pull back your curtains even further, they're still the same shade of black. Too dark to blend in.

You bite your lip, hesitating. You hadn't used your magic like this in a long time. Marceline lets out another meow.

"Yes, yes I know." You ball your hand into a fist. " It's just been awhile."

You step back from the curtain, another meow.

"I'm doing it alright." You whip your head around as you whisper out the worlds. You take a deep breath, slowing moving your hands. A pink glow forming between them.

It's a simple glamour spell. You can do this.

You let the words come out, and toss the spell towards your curtains. You put your arms down and let out a shaky breath as the spell works it way through your house to hide yourself.

"I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot more of that." You let out a laugh as you walk back over to the window, pulling back your curtains once again.

You look up and see a flash of purple.

There she was in all her witchy glory, landing on Westviews newest residents doorstep. Agatha looks back over her shoulder, a plant in her hands. You quickly step back and curse under your breath.

"Shit, shit, shit." You rush over to your front door and turn the locks. Did she see you? She must have, she winked at you. You rush up the stairs and into your bed room and pull open the closet doors. You half to have something in here.

You weren't getting caught today, let alone by Agatha Harkness. You pull out a long brown pleated skirt, a plain white button down, and one of your many cardigans. Along with a very old pair of saddle shoes.

Marceline hops up onto your bed, curling up near your pillows.

"We're going to be fine Marceline, we'll just have to ride it out is all. Blend in, nothing we haven't done before." You toss your pajamas off and onto the floor. You pull your button down over your shoulders and start closing your buttons. "Just with more magic that normal." You slip into your skirt and as you walk over to your dresser and rummage around for a pair of socks.

You look back over your shoulder at the black cat curled up against your pillows.

"Don't give me that look. I don't like it either, but we need to blend and this is what we have to do. Agatha and this new witch are very powerful. As soon as we can, we'll run for the hills." You finally find a matching pair of socks and sit down on your bed with them in hand.

A meow comes from behind you as you slip your socks and shoes on.

"What do you think I'm doing?" You walk over to your vanity and think about what to do with your hair. " I'm going to go be neighborly."

With a swish of your hand, your hair was up in a pony tail and a headband was added for accessory.

You stood from your vanity and walked back over to your bed. Your hand found Marceline's head and you gave her a couple of scratches.

"Be a good girl. I'll be back in a jiffy."

You rush down the stairs and stand hesitantly at your front door.

"It's okay you can do this." You whisper to yourself, with a shaky hand you turned the lock on your front door, and step out closing the door behind you.

Your outfit turning black and white, with the outside surroundings.

You still got it.

With a smile you walk over to the new house down the block. As you approached the front porch you fiddle with the ring on your middle finger.

You knock on the door and suddenly panic, you should have brought something. A simple spell and you had a container of cookies in your hands.

A women opens the door, and you smile at her.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N). I live down the block and thought I would bring you some cookies." You hand her the tin and give a shy smile.

"Hello (Y/N). I'm Wanda."

She moves aside to let you into the house. You walk in, and when you turn to walk into the living room there she is.

Agatha Harkness herself.

[captain-huggy-bear]

I'm just emotionally attached to the dimple on his right cheek and how he doesn't even need to smile for it to be there, it's just ever present :) Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You don't really think you can be blamed for staring at him, not really. Clayton is beautiful in the sort of way that's hard to quite explain. He's not beautiful in an untouchable way, but beautiful in the way a forest is beautiful or the ocean is beautiful, beautiful in a way that can be touched, held, experienced. Tangible. Real.

So it's not really your fault that you're sat at the kitchen table, cheek resting on your palm as you prop yourself up to watch him as he moves around the kitchen. It's not your fault that your eyes get a little lovesick or that you let out a little sigh every now and then because he's just that handsome...and he's yours something which doesn't feel real more often than not.

You definitely can't help it when that dimple on his right cheek keeps appearing every time he purses his lips, licks them or smiles, it's almost constantly in your line of sight and it's just so...adorable.

"You're staring, baby." The smile he gives you, wide and bright, teeth on show as his baby blues crinkle at you, only makes that dimple deeper. More obvious to your eyes. Maybe you're lovesick, maybe you shouldn't love the little seemingly insignificant details about him so much, but you do.

"Yep, I am."

Clayton lets out a little huff of a laugh at your blatant and blunt admiration, you'd learnt long ago there was little point hiding it. Why get embarrassed about it when he was yours to admire in the first place?

"Anything you want to share with the class?" Clay bridges the distance between himself and the table you're sat at, palms flat on the table top as he lowers himself down just enough to be at eye level with you. One eyebrow raises just enough, that quiet confidence running through his shoulders. That dimple closer now and on clear display.

"I love your dimple." You sigh it out like it's a little prayer, sweet, oh so sweet, enough so that the tips of his ears start to turn red, the base of his neck flushing slightly at the surprising admission.

"My dimple?"

"Yeah, when you purse your lips, you get a dimple, right.." You lean forward, finger reaching up and tapping the indent in his cheek lightly with your nail, "here. 'S cute." You're giddy about it in the sort of way that has you biting your lip to contain a grin because he's so cute, so adorable that you're just happy. Happy that he's here. That he's yours. That you get to stare at him and it not be creepy or weird.

"Cute?"

"Mm, adorable." He shakes his head at you in disbelief, hand reaching out to grab your finger, completely encasing it and most of your hand in his own and tugging you as far forward as he can with a tabletop between the two of you. You can see it, that little twinkle of playfulness in his eyes, the way that dimple deepens as he tries not smile, lips disappearing in an attempt to resist smiling.

"I'm not supposed to be cute. I'm supposed to be manly and sexy."

"Never say that again, dork." You laugh at him even as he practically stalks around the side of the table, effortlessly twisting your chair until he can push himself between your legs, closer than ever. The sort of casual display of strength that sends a thrill right through your body.

"What if I do?" Clay leans over you, hands on the tabletop behind you until he's entirely in your space, all consuming, that damn dimple still in place. The air takes on that sort of heavy atmosphere, not in a bad way, in the sort of way that tells you he enjoys this banter just as much as you do.

"I'll bite you."

"You do that anyway, sweet girl."

"Mmmm, and you love it."

Another laugh escapes him, low and gravelly in the back of his throat, "Unfortunately you have me wrapped around your little finger, baby." His hand finds your jaw, thumb pressing underneath as he tilts your head up just enough, just enough that his lips graze yours as you breathe in each other's space.

"Yeah? Well, you have me in a chokehold..." You whisper it because anything louder feels wrong, but the moment you do it's like your words spur Clay to action.

The way he slants his mouth over yours isn't gentle, not really, but it's not rough either. It's passionate and warm, the sort of adamance that speaks of how much he loves you. You're not sure kissing Clay will ever not be thrilling, will ever not cause your heart to pound, you to grasp at his wrist and tug him closer. It's like the world slips away whenever he does, like all you can ever focus on is him. Him and the press of his mouth, the slide of his tongue against yours, the hold of his hand at your throat as he tilts you whichever way he deems best.

Kissing Clay is a perfect sort of give and take, a partnership in motion.

[tricksh0t]

Sub Cregan gets overstimulated by husband to the point he starts begging for him to let him take a break after returning from the Wall. He said yes after he comes one more time the last time he makes Cregan squirt and he screams so loudly the whole castle can hear him.

★ moaner, groaner, or screamer?

☾ cregan stark x top m reader

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ chat if I may ask why do we thirst for this guy? he showed up once in the whole reason, and I honestly don't like his cadence. don't get me wrong, I wrote this damn fic but it's cause the plot was good and he's a looker (if it's abt the book okay)

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 1.52k words

cw: anal penetration, handjob (cregan receiving), very subby cregan, multiple rounds (not depicted), begging, overstimulation, male squirting, screaming, dacryphilia

Cregan's not sure he's got much left to give anymore.

He's cum what, five, six times? Two of those have been at the hand of his husband's skillful cock, and the rest of those–three or four, whatever makes the math work–have been at the hand of his hand.

Cregan's sure you, his husband, have reason for this. He must miss him, after his dutiful visit to the Wall. Furthermore, the Lord of Winterfell at the hall, even after the days long journey from the Wall back to Winterfell, looked exquisite. He looks a lot more delectable and pretty now, splayed upon the bed, legs spread like a common whore.

It does not befit him, not as the leader of House Stark and certainly not as the Warden of the North, but it has always been pleasing to see Cregan give way to your command.

That there must be the reason.

He doesn't know what to think, his mind is a spinning mess of a blizzard. Actually, he can barely think.

In fact, these thoughts aren't even his.

You have one hand on Cregan's cock, constantly and incessantly pleasing him, while the other cradles the back of his head, a recent development, to hold it up to look at him.

Cregan Stark, your husband, does in fact look pretty splayed out like this on the bed, limbs all limp except for his knees. He looked slightly less exquisite dismounting his horse, but nonetheless, it seduced you to his bed.

And yes, you do miss him. He has been gone entertaining a southern prince for far too long. Thirty-nine days and thirty-nine nights, for that matter, and nineteen of those were spent on the road.

It is jealousy as much as it is a need to see Cregan rest, and a Stark as dutiful as the young lord only rests after he is thoroughly spent.

Finally, and this you can admit to even to the Maester himself, much to Cregan's chagrin, you do so very much enjoy the sight of your lord husband mindless and obedient.

You're fairly sure he's not got much to give anymore, based on his endless babbling, spasming hips and the fact his last orgasm hadn't produced much in the way of seed.

Between moans, babbles, and the squelch of the movement of your hand around him, Cregan mutters something awfully coherent.

"What was that, love?"

When your thumb runs over his apple of his cheek, Cregan's eyes finally snap open once more. A whimper begins from his mouth first, then a word. "Please."

"Please what?" You ask, voice soft. You give him the mercy, even, of slowing down the movement of your hand.

Overstimulation, regardless, fogs his mind and slurs his speech. The pain of consistency and being overwhelmed course through his veins like a sedative. "I...need a break, please, husband."

"A break?" You say, as if the very idea offends you.

In truth, it is amusing for him to ask for a break, rather than to simply stop.

"An hour, at least! Some water, r-respite for my body." He pleads, eyes fighting to roll back into his skull even whilst he locks them with you. "Please."

"Does it feel good?" You ask, speeding up the movement of your hand.

"Yes!" Cregan exclaims, a touch too loud. With how many hours this has lasted, you're sure someone knows by now, if not, the whole of the castle.

"Then what reason there in stopping?"

He moans in what sounds like desperation, foot coming behind you to push at your back in some instinctual retaliation. His eyes dart down as the force of his foot only has your long-forgotten cock rutting further into him, only stimulating him further. Cregan moans at the feeling.

"Careful."

Cregan cries out a sob. "I'm sorry, my husband, but–oh, fuck."

His eyes do roll back, this time, without control, as you thumb at the skit of his tip, practically calling him to cum once more.

"A break, you said?" You hum, swirling your thumb around the head of his cock almost as if it is a motion you make when in deep thought.

"Yes," Cregan breathes out shakily, "yes, a break, husband. Please, please, please."

You still your hand. He will have his break, if only it lasts five minutes.

"Wait!" Cregan wails, hips bucking restlessly and helplessly into your still hand. "Wait, I was so close!"

You laugh, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. When it does, it does so with a thump, as Cregan was very much not minding its weight.

"What will it be, my Lord Husband?" You use the title mockingly, wiping a stray tear off his cheek. "A break or continuing?"

"Ohhh," Cregan whines, like he does on his bratty bouts, "one more! Just one more, please. I want it so bad."

...you do so enjoy it when he begs.

When you pump your hand slowly up and down his cock, it has his hips shaking as the slow speed urges him to not buck but follow along the movement, having him use the last of his strength.

You stop after the third pump, causing him to whine again. "Beg."

He does so without question. "Ple–"

"And look me in the eye when you do it."

His eyes hazily come back into focus when he opens them again, and you can clearly see the slow way they return from when they rolled into the back of his head. "P-Please." He sputters pathetically.

You reward him with a quick movement that has his hips fruitlessly fail to follow. "Say it like you mean it, Cregan."

"Please." Cregan's voice is whiny as well as shaky, with the way tears are beginning to form in his eyes. "Please, husband, I want it. I want it more than I've ever wanted anything. Please."

"I'm not convinced–"

"Please!" He exclaims, and it's loud. "Please, my love!"

When your hand falls from his cock, a sob escapes his lips, but it is quickly replaced by a moan as you snap your hips into him.

After how long ago his last orgasm accompanied by your cock was, he had forgotten the feeling.

Cregan's eyes roll back again, and his legs wrap around your waist. "Please, please, please!" He begs, though you hadn't asked.

"Ah!"

Cregan's wails grow loud and wet, the loudest thing coming out of the room, but you're sure that the thudding of the bed can be heard from the neighboring rooms and even downstairs, and the slapping of skin can be heard from outside the door.

When you lean over him, nose buried into his jaw and hot breaths against his neck, Cregan embraces you, if only to enact revenge by clawing at your back.

That pain doesn't stop you from continuing, snapping your hips into him with a strength and speed that befits your Northener blood.

His cock moves wildly with each snap of your hips, slapping against his abdomen and weeping precum once more like a steady stream.

"Fuck, oh, husband!" Cregan only grows louder. "Mmgh!"

His moans grow more girlish the longer you continue, pleasure and pain running at his nerves not like a fire but like ice so cold it burns.

And then you wrap a hand around his cock once more, and Cregan wails.

The feel of it has him cumming in a shock, cock spurting the last of what his balls had.

His moans die down a little as his voice grows hoarse, but they remain a constant anyway as you fuck him through his seventh or eighth orgasm and begin with yours.

They turn, finally, into hums of relief as you fill him full for the third time, this count you can be sure of.

"I–"

You cut him off as you press further into him, pushing his head against the headboard. "One more."

"My love?"

"One more."

He's too sensitive, but his softened cock grows to full mast with just two tugs.

Your hand is so fast his mind can barely keep up. His moans do, however, growing just as quickly in volume that it's a wonder no one has come knocking at your door yet.

You pay attention to the whole of his cock, from the base, where your fist makes contact with his drained balls, to the red, swollen tip; and that is why he's cumming again so quickly.

Cregan screams.

He screams so loud that you're sure the whole castle can hear him—even, maybe, the small folk outside its walls.

There is no one at your door, you remember, because this is not the first time.

You watch as his cock spurts high peaks of not cum but something else. He's not just cumming, he's squirting, high peaks of it, so liquidy they quickly run down his sweaty body and add onto the mess on your sheets. He finishes in three spurts of it, each lower than the last.

"Well done." You whisper against the crown of his head, before kissing it.

Cregan can only smile and laugh deliriously.

It is only when he speaks that you realize how hoarse his voice is. "I love you."

[sundrop-writes]

[Hope this is okay]

Could you do a wee thing about the Teen Wolf guys supporting their [mate/partner/wife/other] giving birth?

Your teen wolf stuff hits me right in the feels and I am thinking of this one a lot lately.

see, this is why I love keeping old requests in my inbox, because then when I am feeling the creative flow for that fandom again, I can just go back to those requests

also, I just picked four of the first guys from the show that came to mind, but please let me know if you want me to talk more about Vernon or Jackson or others. they are underappreciated and I love them too

Teen Wolf requests are OPEN. Please read my Rules before requesting!

How would the Teen Wolf boys help you through giving birth?

Included: Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, and Stiles Stilinski.

Warnings: usually I try to do GN!Reader with my reactions, but this one called for Fem!Reader - so the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant; obviously, there is mentions of giving birth and the types of medical complications that can come with it (though I purposefully didn't go into too much detail with the unpleasant aspects of giving birth); in every single one of these situations, the reader is dating the specific character and the pregnancy would be due to having sex with them, even if it's not explicitly mentioned; mentions of the reader's stomach 'getting rounder' with the progression of pregnancy, but this isn't meant to indicate that she was previously thin, just a mention of pregnancy causing the stomach to look more filled out; mentions of general Teen Wolf themes like danger, the main characters being targeted by killers, etc.; and I think that's pretty much it for this. This is mostly just fluff about our favourite guys. And like usual with my reaction fics, it's unedited.

A/N: Also I apologize in advance because I kind of went haywire toward the end and just had fun coming up with dramatic situations where someone could give birth. It's the fanfic writer in me - nothing can be peaceful, everything has to have some kind of drama.

...

Isaac would be incredibly sweet and attentive.

Isaac is someone who is good under pressure - in fact, because of his (deeply unfortunate) childhood, he genuinely thrives under pressure. He didn't react well when he found out that you were pregnant - at first, he believed that he wouldn't be well suited to being a father, and he genuinely believed that you wouldn't want him to be the father of your baby, so he tried to run from the whole situation for a while.

But once you assured him through love that you knew he would make an amazing father, he had the whole duration of your pregnancy to settle in to the idea of it, and he shifted from skiddish and timid and seemingly constantly terrified to hurt to you to someone who was far more confident as your partner. He turned into a genuine support system.

He became someone who cradled your stomach, constantly had a hand on your back, always ensured the safety of you and your unborn baby - whether it was something as small as you lifting a box or carrying in groceries, he went out of his way to take care of you.

So during your labour, he was nothing short of a servant. He put a cold cloth on your head, made sure you always had water with a straw ready at your lips the moment you turned your head, made your voice was heard so that you got exactly what you wanted and needed. And of course, he was the type of partner to bring you a giant serving of whatever food you were craving that you hadn't been able to have during pregnancy once you had been medically cleared, and he had been assured that everything with you and your new baby was fine.

He would do anything for you, and he had no problem letting everyone around you know that.

...

Scott would be a nervous wreck.

Scott is someone who is really unsure and when he has time to think about things too much, he begins to panic. So him having multiple months to think about everything that could go wrong with your pregnancy would just mean that he has multiple months to panic about it. He is excited to be a father, yes - but he is also absolutely terrified about it.

So when you called him and told him to rush to the hospital because you had gone into labour, Scott found himself stalled. He rushed to the hospital, found out what room you were in, and then - for some idiotic reason - found himself stuck in the hallway. His brain was desperate for ways to cope, and as he sat on a plastic chair outside of your room, bouncing his knee, he kept thinking about the fact that if he didn't go inside your room, then nothing could go wrong. At the very least, he wouldn't know it if anything went wrong.

But eventually, his mother came out - looking to get you a cup of water - and she gave him a harsh, disapproving glare when she found him sitting there when you had complaining that he had been late and not answering his phone. And after a stern talk where she told him that it didn't matter if he was scared, parents have to push down their fear and just do it anyway (because that's what she had been doing for him during his whole life) - he finally stepped through the threshold and found you sitting on the bed.

You were in some pain, but otherwise - perfectly fine.

And when he held your baby in his arms for the first time, he realized that what his mom said was absolutely true. He would just have to face this like he had faced deadly Alphas and hunters and giant killer lizards - terrified, pretending to be brave, and most of all: with love in his heart reminding him what was most important. He would push past all of his fear because he loved you and your new baby.

...

Derek would be incredibly protective.

Right from the moment that you found out you were pregnant, Derek was incredibly protective of you. He was weary of you riding in the car with anyone else driving but him - and in fact, he traded in his Camaro for something with much higher safety ratings, and a roomier backseat so that he could install a highly rated carseat (which looked odd to outsiders when your pregnancy wasn't even showing and you didn't have a baby to put in there, but he wanted to be well prepared). He insisted on preparing all your food himself to make sure it was safe, and any time you slept, he stayed away to keep watch over you.

From the moment he knew you were carrying his baby, he became a slave to his wolfish instincts, needing your safety to be his top priority at all times.

So naturally, this meant that he didn't trust you to be locked up in some hospital to give birth. After a lot of discussion about why it was important to him, you agreed to participate in a ritual that was ingrained into the Hale family for generations - giving birth outside. It was a werewolf thing - the need to commune with nature, especially when a baby's life was just beginning. Derek set up a very nice tent for you, and called upon the Hale family emissary - Deaton - to help you through your birth.

But other than that, he was very strict about who else was allowed to be around, still incredibly protective over you. He held your hand the entire time, coached you through the pain with soothing words and a strong hand on your back. And ultimately, your baby was born under the light of the full moon, the first member of the new generation of a strong Hale family that Derek once believed to be dead.

...

Stiles would be an unexpected hero.

Someone who threatened to faint at the sight of blood and once nearly vomited just at the mention of having to amputate Derek's arm during a similar type of medical emergency - he literally became your rock. It was a well known fact that Stiles loved to research, and from the moment that he found out you were pregnant, he had a book in his hands, a highlighter between his teeth as he tried to force himself to remember all the relevant information about breastfeeding, infant neck support, foods that could be harmful to a nursing mother.

And as your stomach grew rounder and your due date drew nearer, something that Stiles grew increasingly obsessed with researching was field deliveries. You had a birth plan in place - you were going to go to the hospital, and Melissa and Stiles were more than prepared to advocate for what you wanted - a drug free, natural delivery with very little medical intervention.

But for some reason, Stiles - every the paranoid one, especially after everything he had been through - was growing increasingly fixated on the idea that you simply wouldn't make it to the hospital once your labour started. So he had to soothe himself by researching stories of babies who had been delivered in the backs of taxis, babies who had been delivered on the side of the road, babies who had been delivered on boats in the middle of the ocean and technically didn't have a legal country of origin.

And he also became increasingly obsessed with researching any possible complications you might have during labour - because he believed that he would have to be the one to deliver your baby. And when you came across him with his laptop open, watching delivery videos again like a how to - you told him that if he didn't stop fixating on this, stressing you out, then you were going to give birth in the middle of the floor.

Little did you know - once again, his intuition had been spot on.

So when you got stuck at The Beacon Hills Animal Clinic - the power knocked out due to a raging thunderstorm, a circle of Mountain Ash that Deaton had put down being the only thing keeping you, Scott, and Stiles from being torn apart by a pack of raging Alphas - and of course, by your luck, just then your water broke and your contractions rocketed forward two minutes apart...

It was then that Stiles stepped up and actually insisted that it was one of the better situations you could have been 'stuck' in. You were surrounded by medical supplies - the Mountain Ash was keeping the Alphas at bay. You had all the time in the world, and all you had to do was trust him. So you held Scott's hand and stared into Stiles's eyes, and he used all of his well researched knowledge to bring your baby safely into the world.

...

If you enjoyed this, definitely check out the rest of my Teen Wolf Masterlist

[hummingbird24220]

May I please request swordsman! Reader who can understand swords?

I've seen in a couple fics where swordsmen are able to talk to their swords after bonding with them but the idea of reader being able to with out a bond present would be so funny! Idk if it's a skill reader learned (like a special technique) or a devil fruit power but reader just absolutely clowning on the swordsmen in one piece as a whole. Idk if the swordsman themselves can talk to their swords but I feel like it's funnier if they can't. Reader learning all about Zoro as a kid from Wado and all the embarrassing things it's seen (its been with him so long)

The only other swordsmen I can think of are Law and Mihawk. Readers experience with their swords are a little different

I feel like Yoru(I think is the name) has to much respect for Mihawk to tell any embarrassing stories like Wado but would still be embarrassing with how much bragging it does. It's very proud to have Mihawk as it's owner (he's the best swordsmen afterall)

Law's sword, Kikoku is just as cautious as it's owner but can't help but to take this opportunity to tell reader to tell law to take better care of himself

(You don't have to write for law or Mihawk if you don't want to! I just wanted to add my thoughts on them! You could just do Zoro with his three swords or any other swordsmen- honestly I have lots of thoughts about this 'prompt' so sorry for rambling <3)

(I have more thoughts if you like this request enough if not no worries!)

This is a cool idea! Thank you for requesting <3 I havent met Law in the anime yet (still on baby episodes) but i did a smol google and stalk. Sorry if hes OOC! Kinda went into it with the mindset of 'if the sword vibes with the wielder, then the wielder can kinda understand the sword' - but thee reader is fluent in swordeneese ;)

I saw your other message about you wanting a Swordsmith reader - i wasn't too sure how to incorporate it to the story so its a bit of a doozy. I could do a part 2 - focusing more on the swords being cared/repaired if you like, maybe with some scenes with shanks and his sword (reader tries not to acknowledge his sword so he doesn't think shes nosy or something? big bad shank emperor vibes ((when really hes a softie)))

Let me know if you want part 2 ^^

Enjoy <3

Sharp Tongues, Sharper Blades (Part 1)

One piece x Swordsmith!Reader

You didn’t set out to be a menace. That just sort of... happened.

Your Devil Fruit—unofficially dubbed the Blade-Whisper Whisper Fruit by a very drunk shipwright—granted you the ability to hear and speak to swords. Not just your own. Not just special, bonded blades. All swords. All the time.

It was less of a superpower and more of a constantly running group chat in your head, filled with temperamental steel with centuries of backstories and too many opinions.

Zoro’s swords were loudest of all.

You had snuck into the Sunny’s training room while the crew was off eating. You were supposed to be sharpening some of the crew’s utility knives. Instead, you were crouched beside Zoro’s swords, whispering like you were conspiring with old friends.

"Alright, alright—Wado first," you muttered, eyeing the pristine katana resting in its scabbard.

Wado Ichimonji’s “voice” came through calm and noble, but with the weary sass of someone who’s seen too much.

“It’s about time you listened. Do you know how hard it is being the only reasonable one among these idiots?”

You snorted. "You're literally a sword."

“And yet more emotionally mature than your average swordsman.”

"Tell me something embarrassing."

There was a pause.

“…When he was ten, he practiced shirtless in front of a mirror because he thought he’d grow muscles faster that way.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep the laugh in.

Sandai Kitetsu gave off an unhinged energy, like a cursed blade that listened to heavy metal and screamed into the void for fun.

“I told him to stop juggling me. That was not a test of fate. That was plain stupidity.”

"How many times has he tried to use you while drunk?"

“Seven. Eight if you count the time he mistook a mop for me.”

Shusui (grumpy, old, and dramatic) immediately interjected.

“Hmph. That mop had better stance.”

You pressed your forehead to the wooden floor, wheezing with laughter.

"Wado, how do you deal with him?"

“Love, patience, and the ability to ignore shirtless mirror flexing.”

You wiped your eyes. "You're killing me."

A familiar voice suddenly barked from behind you.

“What the hell are you doing with my swords?”

You turned slowly to find Zoro in the doorway, brow furrowed, arms crossed.

Think fast. “...uh, bonding?”

He looked skeptical. You grinned.

“Wado says you used to practice shirtless for gains.”

Zoro’s face turned ten shades of red.

“WHAT?!”

From the sword rack, Wado Ichimonji whispered smugly: “He also cried after losing to a squirrel once.”

-

Dinner on the Sunny was loud, chaotic, and usually filled with the sounds of Luffy trying to steal food off every plate within reach.

Tonight, it was also filled with the sounds of you barely containing your laughter as you side-eyed Zoro across the table.

He was trying to act normal, gruffly chewing through his rice like it hadn’t been hours since you’d had a little... chat with his swords. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eye kept twitching every time you looked at him and smirked.

You were so going to milk this.

“So, Zoro…” you said casually, poking at your food. “Ever get into any fights with… squirrels?”

He froze mid-bite.

Luffy blinked. “Wait, what kind of squirrel? Like a big one?”

Zoro narrowed his eyes at you. “You said you weren’t gonna say anything!”

“I said nothing about dinner,” you replied, grinning. “Besides, Wado told me. I’m just the humble messenger.”

Sanji leaned over from across the table, intrigued. “Oi, moss-head, did you really lose to a squirrel?”

“It was strategic retreat,” Zoro grumbled.

Robin was sipping wine, completely unbothered. “How charming. Perhaps we can find you a rematch.”

“I’LL KILL THAT SWORD,” Zoro snapped.

You snorted into your drink. “I don’t think that’s how swords work, sweetie.”

Wado Ichimonji—propped up nearby in its sheath—was practically vibrating with smug energy in your head.

“Tell him I still have the scar. Right on the saya. From when he tripped into a tree trying to dodge it.”

You bit your tongue. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Okay, laugh later.

“Anyway,” you said, taking a bite, “the real scandal was the mirror thing.”

Zoro dropped his chopsticks.

Usopp looked between you and Zoro. “Wait—what mirror thing?”

Nami raised a brow. “Oh no.”

Brook’s skull tilted curiously. “Was it about his form?”

“Or lack of muscles?” Sanji added with a smirk.

“HE WAS TEN,” Zoro barked, face red. “DROP IT.”

You smiled sweetly. “But you believed it would work. That’s the cute part.”

Zoro shot to his feet. “I will personally throw all your tools into the sea.”

You shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll just ask Wado what your favorite shampoo is and swap it with mayonnaise.”

Wado, gleeful: “It’s lavender. He says it’s for 'clarity.'”

Zoro screamed into his hands.

Across the table, Luffy was just staring in awe. “Your swords talk back?! That’s so cool!”

Zoro glared at you. “They don’t talk.”

You leaned back in your chair, arms behind your head, grin wide as the ocean.

“No, Zoro. They don’t talk to you.”

-

The galley was quieter after dinner, lit only by warm lanterns and the soft clatter of dishes. Sanji was elbow-deep in soap suds, humming a soft tune as he washed. You were drying plates beside him, content for once to enjoy the stillness after a meal full of teasing and near sword-based homicide.

“You know,” Sanji said, glancing over, “for someone who spent dinner instigating Zoro into an aneurysm, you’re surprisingly helpful in the kitchen.”

“Gotta stay useful somehow,” you replied with a shrug. “Besides, I only poke the moss bear out of love.”

He snorted. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

As he turned to scrub a pot, a glint from the knife rack caught your eye. A particular chef’s knife—slender, perfectly weighted, lovingly honed. It practically vibrated with attention as you passed.

“Hey,” it whispered, voice soft and precise, like a blade gliding through ripe tomato skin. “That man. The one with the cigarette and perfect fingers. He’s a good one.”

You blinked, surprised. Most blades didn’t care for conversation unless they had drama to spill or blood to remember. This one was… almost reverent.

“You want me to tell him something?” you murmured under your breath, pretending to clean the counter.

“Tell him I appreciate the oil he uses. The cloth. The sharpening stone. And the way he holds me—steady, confident. It’s rare to be treated with such respect.” A pause. “…His julienne game? Immaculate.”

You stifled a chuckle. “Right, I’ll let him know.”

“What was that?” Sanji asked, glancing over.

You hesitated. Normally, you’d play this kind of thing for laughs. But this blade wasn’t mocking. It was genuine. So you dried your hands, turned to him, and leaned against the counter.

“Your favorite knife just wanted to say you’ve got great technique,” you said casually. “Like, really appreciates how well you take care of it. The oiling, the sharpening, the… julienne game. All of it.”

Sanji paused mid-scrub, frowning. “You serious?”

You nodded. “Dead serious. It’s almost poetic about it. Kinda adorable, honestly.”

For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the Sunny.

Then Sanji—cool, composed Sanji—turned pink at the ears.

“…Tch. Stupid knife,” he muttered, looking away. “Gonna make me emotional over a hunk of steel.”

You smiled. “Steel’s got feelings too, apparently.”

He shook his head, but there was a softness in his eyes as he went back to scrubbing.

“I always knew that one was special,” he murmured. “But... thanks for telling me.”

You gave the knife a quiet pat. It practically purred in your mind.

“Tell him he makes me feel like art.”

You looked over at Sanji, this man who danced around a kitchen like it was a ballroom, who wielded his tools with precision and pride.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “He really does.”

-

You hadn’t meant to end up at Mihawk’s castle. That’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

A pitstop, a storm, a bit of misdirection from a smug talking dagger who told you “he’s got the best view in the East Blue,” and here you were—on Kuraigana Island, standing in front of the most intimidating sword you’d ever laid eyes on.

Yoru. Black blade. Supreme Grade. Taller than you. Probably older than everyone you’d ever met combined. It radiated authority.

You hadn’t even tried to speak to it yet.

It waited, mounted in quiet glory behind Mihawk, who was calmly sipping wine like you weren’t internally panicking about what this sword was going to say to you.

“I hear you speak to blades,” Mihawk said, not looking at you.

“I do.”

“I presume you’d like to speak to mine.”

“…A little.”

He finally glanced at you, gold eyes narrowing.

“It doesn’t speak to just anyone.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “It doesn’t need to. I don’t ask to hear them. I just do.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “Then proceed.”

You turned to Yoru, stepping close.

The second you entered its aura—because yes, this sword had aura—you heard it.

Rich. Deep. Regal. Like a baritone dipped in ink and forged in centuries of ego.

“Finally. Someone with the taste to recognize me.”

“Oh boy,” you muttered under your breath.

“You may tell the boy—sorry, Dracule Mihawk, Wielder of the Blade Supreme, Greatest Swordsman of the Era—that he is… doing a satisfactory job.”

You blinked. “That’s it? You just want me to tell him he’s adequate?”

A pause. Then—

“…And that I am still undefeated. Still untouched. Still flawless. Unlike that moss-haired one. Wado said he once slipped in mud. Disgraceful.”

You held back a laugh. “You brag more than a sword with arms.”

“My existence is a brag.”

You turned back toward Mihawk, who was watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Well?” he asked.

You cleared your throat.

“Yoru says… you’re doing a satisfactory job.”

He blinked.

You smirked.

“And that it is still undefeated, untouched, and flawless.”

A long pause.

“…Of course it did,” Mihawk muttered.

You hesitated, then added, “Also it wanted me to let you know that Wado thinks Zoro once slipped in mud. So. Clearly, your sword is keeping up with the gossip.”

Mihawk took a very long sip of wine.

“I expect you to never repeat this,” he said flatly.

You gave Yoru a wink. “No promises.”

As you turned to leave, Yoru called out—low and proud:

“Tell me—did the chef’s knife like his compliment?”

You blinked.

“…How do you know about that?”

“We all talk, child. You think I don’t keep tabs on the competition?”

Oh. Oh no.

Even ancient blades were messy little gossip gremlins.

-

You weren’t supposed to be here overnight.

And yet, here you were: Mihawk’s castle guest for the evening, curled up in a surprisingly cozy chair by the fireplace with a cup of hot tea, while the man himself read quietly across from you.

You hadn’t spoken much. Mihawk wasn’t the chatty type. But the sword? Oh, Yoru had no such issue.

“You’re slouching.”

You frowned. “I’m not slouching.”

“Your spine is curved like an inferior blade.”

You glanced at Mihawk, whispering from behind your mug, “Yoru says I’m slouching.”

He didn’t look up from his book. “Yoru says that to everyone.”

You leaned closer to the sword, which rested behind Mihawk’s chair like a smug throne.

“You ever say anything nice?”

“I allowed you to address me directly. That’s the highest honor I offer.”

You stared. “That’s… genuinely the most pompous sentence I’ve heard from an inanimate object.”

“I’m not inanimate. I’m revered.”

Mihawk finally sighed, turning a page. “Yoru, must you?”

“He needs the practice. You’ve been brooding at the fireplace like an oil painting all day. I’m carrying this conversation.”

You snorted into your tea.

“Also, remind him,” Yoru added, voice dropping dramatically, “that it is time to oil my hilt. I detected dryness. This is unacceptable.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. “You have dryness detection?”

“Superior craftsmanship has superior needs.”

Mihawk glanced up at you, then at the sword.

“…Did it say something ridiculous again?”

“Yes,” you said, barely holding it together. “It wants you to moisturize it.”

“I do oil it,” he muttered, clearly offended.

“Not last Tuesday. You skipped.”

You fell off the chair laughing.

Yoru, ever composed: “She is unworthy of my presence.”

You wiped your eyes. “Then why do you keep talking to me?”

“Because someone must appreciate my glory. And I’ve exhausted Mihawk’s capacity for flattery.”

“I never flattered you,” Mihawk said without looking up.

“You held me up to the moon once.”

“That was a duel. You were reflecting light.”

“It was symbolic.”

You choked.

Later, after Mihawk retreated to his room (muttering something about “blades with superiority complexes”), you sat beside Yoru again in the quiet dark.

“…You really love him, huh?” you asked softly.

There was a pause.

“He is a warrior worthy of me. A craftsman of battle. A bearer of precision, discipline, and solitude.”

You nodded.

“…Also, have you seen how well he grooms his beard? That is commitment.”

You grinned, whispering, “You’re kind of obsessed with him.”

“As he should be with me.”

You leaned back against the stone wall, letting the warmth of the fire and the low hum of Yoru’s self-importance lull you into calm.

Maybe you didn’t mean to stay here. But honestly? You could get used to this.

-

The first thing you noticed when you stepped onto the Polar Tang wasn’t the crew. Or the high-tech submarine layout. Or even Law himself, who was exactly as grumpy and sharp-featured as you expected.

It was the sword.

Kikoku.

You didn’t even have to look directly at it to feel it watching you. Not menacing. Not hostile.

Just… wary.

You’d felt cursed swords. Wild ones. Vengeful ones. But Kikoku wasn’t like them. It wasn’t cursed. It was careful.

You didn’t speak to it right away.

Law met you in the upper hall with a raised brow and crossed arms. “You’re the one who talks to swords?”

You nodded. “They talk to me, mostly.”

“Tch. Great,” he muttered. “Just don’t touch anything.”

“Don’t plan to,” you said, and then, softer, to Kikoku: “May I?”

There was a long pause. Then, softly—softer than any blade you'd ever heard—

“…You’re not with the Marines?”

Your breath caught. “No. Definitely not.”

“You're not with the World Government? Cipher Pol?”

“No.”

“You don't plan to experiment on anyone while you're here?”

“…Also no.”

Kikoku exhaled—if a sword could do that.

“Alright.” A pause. “You can talk to me. But keep your voice down. He's always listening.”

You glanced at Law, who was standing just far enough away to look disinterested.

Yeah, that tracks.

You stepped a little closer to Kikoku, careful not to make sudden moves. “You okay?”

“I am functional. I would be better if he got more than four hours of sleep a night and remembered to eat food that wasn’t coffee and spite.”

You smiled. “Should I tell him that?”

“…Yes. But phrase it gently. He pretends not to care, but he does.”

You turned to Law, who looked extremely done with your presence already.

“Kikoku says you should sleep more.”

Law blinked. “You asked it that?”

“Nope. It told me on its own.”

You paused, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “Also said you live on coffee and spite.”

There was a long beat of silence.

“…Tch. It talks too much,” he muttered, brushing past you toward the bridge.

Kikoku, smug now: “He heard me. That’s what matters.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, grinning. “You’re a softie.”

“He won’t listen to anyone else. If I have to nag him myself, so be it.”

You liked this sword. It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t gloat. It didn’t care about power or titles.

It cared. About its wielder. About his health. About keeping him safe.

It whispered like a quiet protector in the middle of a warzone.

You looked after Law as he stomped down the hall, coat flaring like always.

“Hey, Kikoku?”

“Yes?”

“…If he ever needs help, I’ll be around. Just whisper.”

“…Thank you.”

-

You weren’t technically snooping.

You just happened to be in the Polar Tang’s small medbay, tidying up after helping Bepo rewrap a sprained paw, when Kikoku—leaning quietly in the corner, within arm’s reach of Law’s desk—whispered to you again.

“He had another nightmare last night.”

You froze, hand still on the edge of the cabinet. “…About Flevance?”

“No. Corazon.”

That made your chest squeeze a little.

Kikoku wasn’t like the other swords. It didn’t speak unless it had to. And it never gossiped.

So if it brought something up… it mattered.

“Does he talk about him?” you asked quietly.

“Never. But sometimes he mutters his name in his sleep. Apologizes to him. Tells him it wasn’t supposed to go that way.”

You turned to the blade, frowning. “Why tell me this?”

“Because you’re the only one who listens. And he won’t say it himself.”

“…You want me to say something to him?”

“I want him to stop carrying everything alone. If that means you talk to him, fine. But don’t push.”

Just then, the door opened behind you.

“Talking to my sword again?” Law said flatly, stepping in with a clipboard.

You didn’t jump—barely.

“I was just…” You paused. “Yeah. I was.”

Law raised a brow. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

“I realize how ridiculous you sound, constantly pretending you don’t want people to care.”

His eyes narrowed.

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Kikoku just… it worries about you. That’s all.”

Law scoffed, moving past you toward the desk. “Swords don’t worry.”

“Kikoku does.”

He set the clipboard down harder than necessary.

“…And what did it say this time?”

You hesitated. “That you had a nightmare.”

That stopped him cold.

You added, gently, “That you talked to Corazon.”

Silence. Heavy and tense.

You didn’t fill it. Not this time.

Law slowly turned, shoulders stiff. “I don’t talk about that.”

“I know. And you don’t have to. But you don’t have to carry it by yourself either.”

His jaw clenched.

“Look,” you said, stepping closer, “Kikoku isn’t trying to betray you. It’s worried. I’m not here to drag your past out of you. I’m just… here. If you want someone to talk to.”

Law looked at you for a long moment. Eyes searching. Calculating. Vulnerable, maybe—just a crack behind the walls.

Then he looked away.

“…Tch. Tell Kikoku to mind its own business.”

You smiled faintly. “It did. That’s why it told me.”

You turned to go, pausing at the door.

“Kikoku’s a good sword,” you said over your shoulder. “And you’re not alone, even if you keep pretending you are.”

You left the room in silence.

Behind you, Kikoku whispered, ever so softly: “…Thank you.”

-

It started out simple.

You were at a neutral dockside tavern with the Straw Hats and Law’s crew, sharing a temporary alliance and, supposedly, a peaceful meal.

You had barely touched your drink before Kikoku whispered in your head:

“They’re here.”

You looked up to see Zoro walking in, swords strapped across his hip, expression set to ‘grumpy and ready to duel.’

“Oh boy,” you muttered.

Then Wado Ichimonji chimed in—loud, dramatic, already fired up.

“I smell that blade. The smug one. The one with the silence complex.”

“Wado, please don’t start.”

“I never start. I finish. Tell the butter knife to sheath its judgment.”

Kikoku, cool and sharp: “Your wielder can’t even find the front door without walking into a tree.”

“Okay, that’s—”

Wado: “He’s got spirit.”

Kikoku: “He’s got concussions.”

You choked on your drink.

Zoro and Law sat down across from each other like two cats about to hiss. You sat between them like a hostage.

“I know you’re listening to them,” Zoro muttered to you.

“Don’t drag me into this,” you hissed. “They’re being ridiculous.”

Law looked equally annoyed. “Kikoku never talks like this.”

You turned to him. “Maybe because she’s never had to be in the same room as that one,” you said, gesturing to Sandai Kitetsu, who was screaming in the background.

“FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT.”

“Not helping,” Kikoku snapped.

Zoro narrowed his eyes at Law. “Your sword thinks I’m stupid, doesn’t it?”

Law sipped his drink. “That’s because you are.”

You groaned and put your head on the table.

Meanwhile, Shusui had entered the chat like a war general summoned from retirement:

“We should settle this with an honorable duel.”

Kikoku: “You’ve been retired for five owners. Sit down.”

Sandai: “I will SETTLE THIS BY BITING THE OTHER SWORD’S HANDLE.”

Wado: “Tell the emo blade to respect its elders.”

Kikoku: “Tell the museum piece to update its technique.”

At that point, you stood up so fast your chair nearly fell backward.

“I am not facilitating a steel-themed group therapy session right now. You four can air your issues without me as the interpreter.”

Law: “You’re the only one who can understand them.”

You: “And I would like to not die of psychic sword-related migraines today, thanks!”

The entire table stared.

Then Brook leaned in, cheerful as ever. “Yohoho! So are the swords dating or fighting?”

“They’re doing both,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Kikoku and Wado: “We are not dating.” “I have standards.”

Sandai: “...I’m open to a polycule.”

Zoro stood. “I’m leaving before someone stabs someone, and it’s me.”

Law nodded. “I second that.”

You sighed, gathering your things. “Next time I’m bringing duct tape. For the scabbards. And my own ears.”

As they left, you heard the swords start back up again—Wado muttering insults, Kikoku returning fire with surgical precision.

And in the background:

“FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT.”

-

You were finally back aboard the Sunny, the sun warming your shoulders as the sea stretched endlessly in every direction. Peaceful. Blissful.

Or at least, it was, until Luffy burst onto the deck holding a cutlass, a bread knife, and a rusty kitchen cleaver like a kid who just found treasure.

“DO THESE TALK?!” he shouted, shoving them toward you.

You blinked, gently pushing the bread knife away from your face. “Luffy, where did you get these?”

“Found them in a barrel! They were just sitting there! Like, waiting to be alive!”

You sighed. “Okay, but—wait. That cleaver is literally still covered in jam.”

“SO DOES IT TALK?”

You closed your eyes and concentrated.

The cutlass: “I was once wielded by a man named Jerry who only knew how to scream and swing. It was exhausting.”

The bread knife: “I'm not technically a weapon. I was forged for croissants. Please stop using me for melons.”

The cleaver: “…I yearn for peace. I miss the days of slicing fruit and feeling needed.”

You opened your eyes. “They’re tired.”

Luffy gasped. “THEY HAVE FEELINGS?!”

“Yes. Mostly exhaustion.”

Brook appeared beside you, gentle smile in place, holding his cane sword. “May I?”

You took it with care.

The second your hand touched the hilt, you felt it. Not just voice, but emotion. Waves of grief, laughter, music. The weight of time. Of silence. Of death and persistence.

And then—warmth.

“…He still plays for them. Every night, even if they can’t hear. I remember each note.”

You swallowed hard. “Your sword remembers your crew, Brook.”

Brook tilted his skull. “Oh?”

You nodded. “Every performance. Every time you stood beside them. Every time you wept while you played.”

A soft pause from the blade.

“He’s kind. Gentle. A little forgetful. He sometimes uses me to stir soup.”

Brook laughed. “Yohoho! I did do that once!”

“But… he remembers them. Always. Even when he forgets where he left me.”

You looked at Brook, voice quiet. “It says you’re the reason it never went dull. That your heart, even now, is sharp enough for both of you.”

Brook put a hand over his chest. “That is… deeply moving. Thank you, (Y/N).”

The blade hummed in your hand, full of music.

Later that night, you sat alone at the ship’s railing, feet dangling off the edge, gazing at the stars. You’d talked to so many swords—heard chaos, tragedy, bragging, battle cries, jokes. So many voices.

And for the first time… silence.

But not lonely silence.

Just… peace.

Your own blade rested beside you, quiet and still.

You smiled. “Thanks for sticking with me.”

It didn’t speak.

It didn’t need to.

You already knew.

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D

Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos

Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao

(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)

Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.

Words: 1,1k

Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!

It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.

You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.

By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.

Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.

You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.

You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.

“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.

It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”

You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.

Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”

You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”

Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.

The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”

“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*

“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”

You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”

“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”

He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”

You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.

As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”

For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.

When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.

“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.

You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”

“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.

[lunarlilacmoon]

i’ve seen a few people doing requests now so i thought i would too🫣

maybe larissa and reader comfort fic, where reader has mommy issues (her mothers a teacher and she’s too)

rest is up to you

thanks in advance 🩷

First off thank you so much to the few that have already requested I am loving being able to do this! I hope to post on a regular basis but for right now I’m getting the hang of the flow! I’m very excited to bring people ideas to life so please don’t be shy and do not hesitate to request! I have another super exciting Wanda ask that I’m working on and will hopefully post later today!! With that being said enjoy more Rissa!

Her Perfect Girl

Larissa Weems X Fem!reader

Warnings: some smut, mommy issues (literally), fingering, sub space, more soft and focused on reader! Again if I forgot any I apologize sincerely.

Summery: Having a mother you constantly want to impress and make happy is exhausting. What’s even more exhausting than that? Working with said mother as well! When Larissa witness a troubling exchange with you and your mother she takes extra steps to relieve your stress and show you just how impressed she is with all your hard work!

Apologies if there are any spelling errors it is 7 am and I still haven’t gone to sleep from yesterday lol!

A knock at the door pulled my from my trance grading papers. I rubbed my eyes looking towards the door expecting a student to walk in but to my pleasure it was Larissa.

“Hi!” I perked up instantly shooting her a smile!

She made her way around my desk planting a kiss on my head.

“How’s your day going my love?” Her eyes cast down to my desk flittering over the tests.

“Just finishing up grading tests from yesterday! What happened? I thought you had a meeting with the mayor this afternoon?” I reached for her hand running my fingers along hers just enjoying the feel of her.

“I did but unfortunately he ate something bad for breakfast and has called it an early day so we rescheduled for next Wednesday instead.” She huffed out clearly annoyed.

“Rissa” I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out, “he can’t help if he gets sick.” I teased.

“Men are such babies about being sick!”

“Hey now! I’m a baby when I’m sick!” I pouted up at her.

“Mm yes but you’re adorable and they are not, there is quite a difference!” She gazed lovingly at me.

Before I could continue our sweet moment the door swung open and I dropped Larissa’s hand in shock. It’s not that the school didn’t know about us, I just tried to keep it professional until school hours were over to avoid any issues that could arise. The thought of a student seeing PDA from us made my anxiety sky rocket but when I realized who the form was I soon was wishing it was a student.

“Mom?” My voice wasn’t hiding my surprise.

“You weren’t at the lounge for lunch so I wasn’t able to talk to you about some of the material I’ve noticed you teaching the kids. Now I know there are a few different things you have to incorporate to allow room for the new curriculum but do you really think wasting an entire semester for werewolves is proactive for the children? When I taught this class a simple week and a half course was plenty enough to get through everything important!” She zeroed in on me completely missing Larissa or greeting apparently.

“I- well hello to you too. Yes mom I do think a semester is reasonable to cover werewolves as I have a handful in my class and I do believe it is just as important for them and their peers to know everything a werewolf goes through. There are important things your old curriculum left out that I deem valuable for my students to know.”

“Darling I know you are excited because this is your second year teaching but you are going to burn yourself out with this unnecessary stuff!”

I was growing irritated with this dance. It’s one we perform often. No matter how close I am to the finish line of being good enough it just seems to stretch a little further with each step.

“The heating cycles is not something that is “unnecessary” for them to know! I understand that may have been something you found uncomfortable to talk about but unfortunately it’s something many of these young wolves will deal with and not giving them proper education before it’s too late can and will be detrimental to their social and mental health. Just because they come from families of wolves doesn’t mean everything like that is talked about.” I argued back refusing to back down on my point.

“You are so stubborn sometimes you that all I’m trying to say is you are trying to hard to get praise from whomever and you are going to crash and burn, then what? You did so good last year following my steps, keep doing that it will keep you on track!”

“Miss Moore I do believe you have a class starting in two minutes perhaps you should be on your way?” Larissa’s voice came from behind me spooking me slightly as I had forgotten she was there for a moment.

“Yes of course Headmistress, I just simply wanted to swing by and keep my daughter on track for a perfect year!” She smiled tightly at Larissa and I was ready for the ground to swallow me up. Though she said nothing unprofessional her tone wasn’t hiding her distance for Larissa stepping into “family business”.

“As grateful as I am to you for your support to staff perhaps you should work on your own class, because if I do recall correctly you didn’t score very well on your last evaluation. So let’s work on keeping you on track for a perfect year!” Larissa flashed her signature pearly smile and I swear the room was so silent I could hear both of their breaths.

Even if she wanted to say anything more Larissa was still her boss at the end of the day, and while she can be a bitch she isn’t stupid so my mother turned without a word and left the room. As soon as she was gone I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and I felt Larissa’s hand on my shoulder.

“I am so sorry she get really nit picky when things aren’t “perfect” in her eyes and she forgets herself with others. She’ll apologize after her class when she realizes how she acted!”

“Are you okay?” Larissa’s eye peered softly down at me.

“Me?” I responded shocked. “I’m fine! This is like a monthly thing! She has a little break down every couple weeks and has to make sure our image is perfect.” I laughed patting her hand.

“Oh my baby I’m so sorry.” She hummed stroking my hair.

Jesus fucking christ I was weak for this woman. A few words and she had me like putty.

“Oh no please don’t apologize Rissa really it’s okay! That wasn’t even a bad episode!” I realized my mistake once the words left my mouth.

“Pardon?” Her face grew firmer.

“Nothing…” My voice softened and I turned back to the papers. “I um, I should finish these up, I’ll be done in about an hour or so if you want to pop into town for a bite to eat?” I offered picking up my pen.

As nervous and embarrassed she saw even a small ugly part of my mother I couldn’t help how her getting protective of me like that made me feel. Like she could and would destroy the world for me. It slipped me straight into sub space but I had work to finish.

Before I could even hover the pen over the test her hand was pressed over mine pushing the pen back down.

“Mm no I don’t think so darling. Her words may not have been nasty but she hurt your feelings again, I can’t let you continue the day with hurt feelings. What kind of girlfriend would I be.

I felt her lip on my neck and I gasped intertwining my fingers with hers.

“Rissa we can’t, not here!” I gasped and she nipped at my skin.

“A quick reminder of how perfect you are is allowed anywhere, anytime.”

I had no time to think or speak before she had me spun around as she sank to her knees in front of me.

“Rissa please really it’s okay I-.” My words were ignored and I was cut off by her pulling my dress up over my thighs as they were spread about.

All words were caught in my throat as she played with my panties moving them side to side before pulling them away and licking a strip from my entrance to my clit.

“Holy shit!” I gasped out slamming my hand over my mouth as she devoured me.

I held my mouth shut as tight as I could trying to keep all the sounds in hoping no one would pass through the halls right now. Her tongue alternated between circling my clit and fucking me. Occasionally she would suck on my slit and my whole body would shake.

“You are such a good girl baby! So perfect for me!” She praised between my lips as my head lolled back.

“Look at me princess. Look at me while you cum like my perfect girl.”

She latched onto my clit and slid two fingers into my pumping to reach the spot she knew so well and within seconds I was cumming undone all over her face while she watched me the whole time through. My body spasmed as I came down and she pulled away slowly.

“See look at how perfect you are! You did so well and listened so perfectly just like you always do! Cause you’re mommy’s perfect girl!” She cooed kissing my lips. “Now let’s get you as clean here as we can and then I’ll help you finish grading after we take a bath together how does that sound?”

“Perfect!” I smiled smashing my lips on hers again.

[monotonesmile]

Jaime Reyes x reader, who is starfires cousin or sister (you can pick) who is Tamaranean from Tamaran. Also can you make it fluff and romantic please and ty.

P.s : Maybe he is taking us on a date or something? Also khaji da is a bit making fun of him for being cheesy with the pick up lines

Have a nice day! 💙

You give me butterflies

[Jaime Reyes X Fem!Tamaranean!Reader]

[Word Count: 1471]

[Warnings: Khaji-Da is his own warning]

[Fic Genre: Pure Fluff]

[Notes: Finally, I get to write about this stupid bug again, my favorite blue. Khaji-Da is in italics when talking.]

————————————————————

Jaime was always more than happy to plan any of their dates, seeing his alien girlfriend light up with excitement always brings a smile to his face, and it’s always a good time when introducing her to new people and places. He knows she loves to share facts about her planet, including her relationship with her sister Starfire, so he is always happy to show her more and more of his own home and planet.

Although anytime he does happen to share his own love for his planet with her, Khaji-Da just has to tease him about it every single time, the alien insect just has an eye for taunting it’s host, especially about his romantic life, there’s never a moment of peace with Khaji-Da around, leaving Jaime with sighing constantly in mild annoyance or irritation.

The last time they’d gone on a date, he took her to an amusement park so she could experience the rides and the general vibe of the crowded park. It definitely wasn’t a sneaky way to see if she could handle crowds, and she was so excited, she had a great time at the park. He knew now that she could handle crowds, which gave him the green light for multiple date ideas he’s had for a while, but he didn’t want to overload her on human interaction constantly, so this time, Jaime decided to take her to a Butterfly Garden.

Jaime had seen her constant curiosity towards the wildlife of earth, seeming curious of the differences between their planets wildlife and nature, she was also curious and wanting to learn more about his world, so why not introduce her to some of the most delicate insects on his planet, which he was sure to tell her about before they went inside, making sure she understood that these creatures are very delicate and to be careful to not crush any.

He couldn’t help but smile as he watches her excitedly hover around the domed in garden, it was always going to be obvious that she was an alien, she had the habit of just floating everywhere, and of course, the flowing hair that looks similar to flames moving, she was grinning so brightly as she looked around at the foliage and fluttering creatures.

“Why are you hovering?” He tilts his head as he grins softly, curious as to why she’s specifically floating at this moment, even though she has the habit of flying, she does spend many moments just walking around, especially on their dates.

“I fear I may squish one of them, like you warned me off. I do not want to do that.” She looks over at him with a sheepish expression, clearly concerned about accidentally squishing one of the many butterflies fluttering about the garden.

“ay amor…” Jaime chuckled softly, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. Everything she did was absolutely adorable to him, how she was so concerned over the little creatures around them was so endearing, she cared so much for everything that existed on this planet, especially him.

His moment of admiring his girlfriend was interrupted only seconds after by the one and only Khaji-Da, who of course, taunts him immediately, “You are pathetically in love, Jaime Reyes.”

“Seriously dude?” Jaime sighs, running a hand through his hair as the alien attached to his spine cuts through his original train of thought with his voice. Khaji-Da does this every single time.

“I am merely stating what I see, Jaime Reyes, and that is your disgustingly loving stare at the Tamaranean.” Khaji-Da hums from within his mind, making Jaime roll his eyes as he chuckles quietly to himself, keeping his voice low and quiet so he doesn’t attract any unwanted stares, well, anymore than he already has because of his girlfriend.

“That’s a bad thing?” Jaime questions the bug with a little grin, watching as she hovers around the garden, pausing at one of the many information plaques that are about the path, seeing her face light up with giddiness, likely from whatever she’s learning off the plaque.

“…I suppose not.” Khaji-Da mutters in begrudging agreement with his host, he can’t deny that Jaime has an absolutely incredible amount of love for his girlfriend, even if Khaji-Da teases him for it, he supposes it’s not a bad thing.

“That’s what I thought.” Jaime hums with satisfaction and a smidge of cockiness when he gets the stubborn alien scarab to agree with him, albeit it was a very begrudging response, but regardless, he’ll take it with stride.

“Besides, she’s a perfect mate for you.” And there it is, Khaji-Da always judged his choices in partners by scanning them to see if they would be deemed a good mate for Jaime, which most of the time, Khaji-Da says they aren’t, but not this time, he actually likes his girlfriend this time.

“Khaji-Da!” Jaime chokes on his own saliva, coughing into his fist to try and disguise his momentary shock from any people walking by, waving it off when she had looked over at him with confusion and slight concern etched onto her face.

Jaime clears his throat, trying not to cough as he waves off his sudden choking. He knew she’d obviously be concerned about him, and it was so sweet of her, but the damn parasite on his back somehow always managed to surprise him even after all these years of being stuck with him, and it’ll likely continue the entire time he has Khaji-Da.

“I’m fine, amor…” His voice was roughed up slightly from his sudden coughing fit as he calmed his girlfriend with a shaky smile, a soft blush coating his face when she hovered over to him to confirm his words for herself.

“But you sounded surprised by something.” Her hands cupped his cheeks, holding his face with such a gentle touch.

“It’s fine, so uh…which butterfly is your favorite so far?” Jaime leans into her touch with a soft kiss on her palm, changing the topic to avoid the awkward conversation that would follow him if he tried to explain why he had started coughing earlier, that is not a conversation he wants to have.

Her face shifted from concern to overjoyed, grinning with excitement as she spoke, “The pipevine swallowtail! It’s blue, like you, it is so very pretty! Just like you are!” She gently squeezes his cheeks as they darken with a flustered smile spreading across his face.

“mi amor…me halagas…” Jaime sputters out as he glanced away, a red blush coating his dark skin, he could practically envision the smirk Khaji-Da would be making if he had a face, already predicting the teasing that would come from this.

“But it’s true! They are as beautiful as you are!” She smiled at him with utter enthusiasm, she loved to compliment him, she liked how his face would change hues from her words, so she does it quite often, and if she’s not complimenting him, she’s touching him in some way, such as holding his face in her hands.

“Now you’re giving me butterflies…” Jaime murmurs into her palm with a soft chuckle, nuzzling into her soft hands, letting her warmth envelop him with comfort and love, his heart fluttering in his chest with her constant compliments, he adores that one thing about her.

She tilts her head, curious about the expression of words before moving away slightly to pick up one of the delicate blue butterflies, and then placing it gently in his hair with a smile. “Yes I am!” She chirps joyfully as she agrees with him, assuming he wanted her to literally give him butterflies.

Jaime blinks before another chuckle erupts from him as the insect is placed in his hair, making sure to not make any sudden movements to jostle the little bug, looking up at her as she happily hovered in front of him as she placed a few more butterflies on his body, standing still so she can place them wherever she so pleases.

“That comment not only confused her, but it was also incredibly cheesy, Jaime Reyes.” Khaji-Da remarks as Jaime shook his head again, he knows not even Khaji-Da would want to interrupt this moment, so Jaime shushes the scarab, making him fall silent as he tracks her movements while she gently picks up another butterfly.

Jaime thinks to himself about this date, considering it another well executed date that resulted in him covered in butterflies while his heart flutters about in his chest with pure adoration for his girlfriend, she was happy, and he will take that as a job well done, as long as she had a good time, he was happy with the day. Maybe he’ll take her to an aquarium or zoo next time to introduce her to more animals of earth.

————————————————————

[Translations]

“ay amor…” -> “oh love…”

“mi amor…me halagas…” -> “my love...you flatter me…”

————————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[live-laugh-lenney]

drunk | arthurtv

hello!

here is my long awaited arthurtv fic number two for you guys. the last one got so much love and i'm so glad it went down as well as it did - panic set in soon after i posted it because i thought it was going to flop rather dramatically so thank you for all the love and comments made; it meant so much.

currently ill with the worst blocked ear/ear infection and i've had to wait for a long while to get myself a doctors appointment so i've had plenty of time to write this current fic and dabble in a couple of other ideas i've had over the last few days.

enjoy! x

--- reader note; mentions of sick, slight hints of sex, drunk arthur, heavy public displays of affection ---

*

At two in the morning, YN was glad that the train station had an open Costa coffee kiosk.

One; to help with the tiredness she felt from having to stay up so late because she was prepared and ready to fall asleep and get, at least, a few hours of sleep before Arthur stumbled through the door in the drunken state she expected him to be in after being on the drink all day. And two; to help with the chill in the air because it was almost zero degrees and the wind was biting at the skin beneath her hoodie every time a train left its platform or every time there was a breeze that blew through the constantly open doors of the station. Her eyelids felt heavy and the chill in the station bit at her exposed cheeks, her nose running and she was forever sniffing, so her fingertips would have definitely gone numb without the much-needed Costa cup of coffee she was nursing in her hands. 

She was one of the only a small handful of people waiting at Paddington; but then, given it was almost 1am, she expected nothing but quiet and emptiness in contrast to how it would have been a few hours prior to arriving. The train from Cardiff was one of the last trains to come into London for the night and she couldn’t imagine it would be chaos to try and find her boyfriend and his two friends amongst the hustle and bustle of those clambering off the train. There was a young man sitting on a bench in the distance, hood over his head and his headphones over his ears, as he kept a close eye on the boards above. There was a couple who must have been in their mid-fifties, or so YN presumed, who seemed to be waiting for one of their children to come home, given what was written on a small banner they’d decorated for their arrival - proud parents, she thought, because she wouldn’t have dared tell her own parents about getting a train home that was to dock at almost one in the morning. And there was a security officer walking around, making sure no one was causing any problems, wearing a thick coat that YN was extremely jealous of because she could imagine how warm he was.

She heard them before she saw them.

“YN!”

George was the first to greet her, arms open wide as he engulfed her into a hug, his green hoodie tied around the waist of his shorts because he was clearly susceptible to cold air that London had to offer that night, not a care in the world to the goosebumps rising on the surface of his skin. Although, she could vouch for him because the weather was beautifully warm when they left for Wales that morning. His hat placed backwards on his head and he could barely walk in a straight line in her direction, shoelace undone and she kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t trip and fall flat on his face. Everyone knew what a typical Platform Roulette filming day entailed - plenty of drink, plenty of shots, plenty of piss-taking and plenty of fun - so she expected nothing less than what was standing before her.

“Thank you so much for this,” he hums and she could smell the beer on his breath. His chin rested upon her shoulder and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t basking in the warmth he was radiating, “you’re the best.”

“I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Couldn’t leave you three stranded in the middle of London in the freezing cold, drunk out of your minds and wandering around without a clue on where you were going,” she snorted, patting him on the back as she pulled away from him, taking a long sip of her coffee to keep the feeling of heat running through her body, “you’re welcome, though. Nice knowing that you’ll get back safely. And it’s a free trip home so you’d be three fools to turn it down.”

Arthur Hill was the next to give her a hug and he clearly wasn’t as drunk as George seemed to be so she was intrigued to know just how well her boyfriend had handled his drink that day. He whispered a thank you, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and pulled away from her before following George towards the station exit where they disappeared around the corner.

“Baaabe,” Arthur smiled, slurring the term of endearment incredibly heavily and YN knew she was in for a long, long night when they arrived back at her flat. His eyelids were sunken, his cheeks were rosey-red and he had a silly smile upon his face that she only saw when he’d sunken more pints than he could handle, hair messed upon his head, hoodie tied around his shoulders in a makeshift cape hanging down his back, “I missed you today.”

He draped himself over her in the tightest hug he could muster, almost knocking the two of them to the floor in the middle of Paddington station, and she could feel eyes boring into the back of her skull as people watched the two of them - anyone would think they’d not seen each other for months on end and it was a reunion for all to see. His hugs were invigorating and she’d take his arms over anything comforting. He was her safety net and seeing him after a day of not hearing from him, it made her feel soft and ready to melt at his feet.

“Are you drunk? Or are you drunk drunk?”

“What’s the difference?” He grinned cheekily, swinging his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, pressing the sloppiest and wettest kiss against her temple as they started their walk towards the exit, “m’just a little drunk. Only a little bit.”

The beer stain on his trousers and the strong smell of sambuca and the faint smell of beer on his breath said differently but that was a conversation for when he was sober and could almost remember everything that happened that day. Which she was in major doubts about. Because it seemed like he couldn’t remember how to walk, let alone walk in a straight line, and she guessed she would have to wait for the Platform Roulette video to be posted online before she got the full rundown of his day. 

His hands kept wandering across her body as they stepped foot closer and closer to the exit of the station; his arm occasionally wrapping around her waist and his hand brushing against her bum, his fingers tickling across the expanse of her chest when he laid his arm across her shoulders, and as humorous as she found it, she didn’t fancy being groped (playfully, might she add) in the middle of the train station where there were eyes watching the two of them.

“Stop it,” she warned him in a hushed tone, “save it for home.”

“But you just look so good-” a hiccup interrupted his sentence and he swallowed back a burp before she carried on, “you look so so good in my clothes.” And it came out as a whine, like a child not getting what they wanted, one foot tripping over the other as she tried her best to keep him from falling flat on his face. 

“First thing I could find in my room after you texted me to come and pick you up.”

“Well, you should wear more of my clothes. Suit you better than me,” they stepped foot outside and she felt his arm tighten around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his side to keep the two of them as far out of the cold as possible, and she really couldn’t wait to get back home. Back under the warmth of her blanket, back under the bedding she had on her bed, and back with the hot-water bottle she had resting behind her back before she left, “or you could just wear nothing at all. I love it when you’ve got nothing on, more than I love you wearing my clothes.”

“Cheeky as per usual, mister Television,” George cackled as he overhead the last little bit of their conversation, wiggling his eyebrows in his direction, “we best get home quick so Arthur can get his-”

Arthur charged for him and covered his mouth, shaking his head, “there is a lady present,” he looked in YN’s direction and she rolled her eyes, “besides, she knows what we’re gonna be doing later.”

She snorted at his comment and begrudgingly wiggled from underneath his arm, her car keys sitting heavy in the pocket of her hoodie as she fished them out, unlocking her car door to allow the three of them, who seemed to already be fighting over who got the front seat, to clamber inside.

*

“Are you in need of a sick bucket tonight?”

She walked into her bedroom, with a glass of water in one hand and two paracetamol tablets in the palm of her other hand, and saw Arthur tucked up in her bed. His blue t-shirt chucked on the floor in a heap of cotton and his beige trousers left at the door as a reminder to put them in the wash the following morning, his rucksack hanging on the back of her desk chair and his shoes kicked off next to the fluffy slippers she kept beside her en-suite bathroom. A tea light was lit under the wax burner she had upon the shelf above her bed, emitting the smell of cinnamon and gingerbread around her room, the flickering flame adding a sense of sensual comfort to the room, casting shadows in her room and upon his face.

“I can handle my liquor,” he stated and shook his head, snuggling a little further down upon the mattress and patting her side of the bed with his hand, “I told you I’m only a little drunk, I promise. Now come and lay down with me.”

“I just want to get everything ready before I get settled,” she insisted as she placed the glass of water and the paracetamol on the bedside table that was closest to him, ready for him to take in the morning, “and I need to make sure you’re set for any headaches or whatever.”

He watched as she flitted around her bedroom, making sure the bathroom light was off and that his shoes were placed a little neater than how they’d been left, kicking his t-shirt towards his trousers so neither of them tripped over the items when they needed a wee in the middle of the night. She threw a couple more pillows on the bed, because she hated laying flat when she slept, and he helped out by placing them where she would normally have them, which she felt incredibly grateful for. And, as she stepped closer to the bed, he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle tug - enough was enough and he felt she was spiraling in her tired state.

“You look after me so well,” he smiled softly, dropping her hand and grabbing her waist, pulling her onto the bed, the duvet slipping from his chest and exposing his nude upper half for her eyes to divulge. She situated her legs either side of his, hands on his shoulders, fingers combing through the hair at the nape of his neck and her eyes couldn’t leave his, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to his body, shuffling around into a more comfortable position, “it’s lucky we’re not doing anything tomorrow because I’m getting the feeling we won’t be sleeping much tonight.”

“That’s cheeky,” he smirked, hiding his face in her neck and pressing a litter of kisses across her collarbone, “but you’re so correct, baby.”

*

not sure how i feel about the ending... but here it is! in all its glory.

if you've made it this far then please let me know what you think and don't hesitate to send me any ideas you may have for future fics. my ask box is always open so don't hesitate to send anything in.

lots of love to you guys! thank you! xx

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

Ache // Yandere! Ticci Toby x

Fem! Reader {SMUT}

[Hello, this will be the first fic that I post. What I'm going to give you guys beforehand is some trigger warnings before we get on to it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it and give me some feedback whenever you're done if you feel in the mood.]

TW // Violence, r@pe, and a whole lotta mention of murder as always.

𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ 𓌏 ☒ - First P.O.V

Every day, it started like this. Planted in my bed, tangled in my grey sheets, waiting for that one sliver of motivation to get out of my blankets. My room was a mess. Pieces of clothing scattered across the floor, piling up around my dresser, and hanging off of places I tossed them.

I stared over the rest of what I could see while trying to get rid of the bitter taste of soda left on my tongue from last night. The posters I've collected of my favorite bands clung onto the wall for dear life, fading away from how long they had been there. An empty Sprite can stood on my nightstand, left there after my body decided to have its third caffeine crash this week.

It was getting so warm where I was lying that I was starting to overheat, making me shuffle around to stay cold. That wasn't too hard because of how freezing my room was.

When I looked at my window, I noticed it was cracked open. If I didn't shut it soon, it would get worse. But minutes were melting into each other and I didn't want to get up. Why did I love to procrastinate so much? It shouldn't be this hard to move on with my day.

Silence filled every corner of my apartment, leaving me to peacefully rot. Was it selfish of me to be like this? That's what it felt like they were trying to say when I talked to relatives. But that's the reason why I prefer to be shut-in. I never had to hear that about myself. The world outside would remain indifferent. And hopefully, by the time I had to move, I was swallowed into the Earth below.

A sudden vibration of my phone startled me. I mumbled a barrage of curses and reached for it slowly, furrowing my brows and groaning. I could only pray that it wasn't him trying to contact me.

The last time he visited, I no longer felt safe outside. I would check behind me constantly, feeling as if his light brown eyes were glued to my back, and at any moment, he could come back and chop off my limbs until I was a headless torso. Remembering that he existed caused that horrible anxiety to spread goosebumps across my skin. I was shaking as I tried to unlock my phone.

Hundreds of notifications popped up that I had been ignoring, some of them messages from my mom, and the rest were emails. I almost accidentally clicked on one before I found the most recent. "Return library books today," it read. Fuck, I forgot today was the due date for those. Despite not wanting to, I had to get up. I did promise that if I had a reason to, I would.

I peeled myself from the comfort of my bed. My sheets clung to me like glue, trying to pull me back as if it were a bad idea. Fighting against it, I shivered at the sudden change in temperature and pulled down the bottoms of my shorts so they weren't wedged in between my ass.

After not walking for what felt like forever, I took my first steps, a soreness on my left thigh making me place a hand on my dresser for support. I looked down at a bruise from that encounter, biting my lip to distract myself from thinking about it. I need to take my pills or I'll get suicidal. So many things to do. So overwhelmed.

Encouraging myself in my head, I found the strength to go for the door. I opened it and turned down my hallway, going for the bathroom with quick and light steps.

Many pictures of family and portraits were loosely decorated on the wall, a pit in my stomach opened when I stared at them. I lingered on my dad and had to tear myself away from the picture before I felt the need to cry.

Stumbling into the bathroom, I flicked on the harsh yellow light and stood before the mirror, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I reached for the medicine cabinet, the hinges squeaking as I rummaged through it. I grabbed my medication and popped the bottle open, tossing out a tiny pill into my palm. I swallowed the bitter capsule and cringed as it slowly went down.

Turning my attention to the sink, I turned on the cold water and brought my mouth to the tap to take a sip. Then I splashed it on my face after I was done, relieved that the pill was no longer there. On the counter, I focused on the facewash I hadn't used in god knows how long. I missed the feeling of my face being clean. At least, I can't forget about it now.

I poured the runny liquid into my hands and rubbed them together, slapping it on my face and rubbing it in circles to get deep in my pores. It foamed up a bit and burned. If I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I'm supposed to be using this, but it works.

As I was splashing the water on my face again to clean it off, I opened my eyes to a man staring at me in the mirror, causing me to freeze. I could see the glisten of his goggles from here, that blue hood covering his messy hair, but it didn't contain enough around the edges. It was him. The man who attacked me and my dad a couple of days ago.

A scream clawed its way up my throat, but before the sound could escape, I reached for something. Grab anything to protect myself, that's all I needed to do. But before I could, the room blurred as I twisted, my hand grasping a razor for a split second.

I was torn away from it. I felt a hard impact on my back as I was slammed against the wall, the air forcing out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. I struggled to breathe, my hands grabbing onto his wrists while they dug into my neck.

He had me pinned against it and struggling to get any sort of noise out. Slowly, I was dragged up upward and lifted off of the ground. I choked, my vision was fading as his glare burned into mine. He's going to kill me. Just like he did to Dad. He's going to get away with it. I pulled my head back against the wall before lunging it forward to collide it with the serial killer's, his hands faltering their hold and dropping me from the force of it.

I collapsed to the floor and sputtered out several coughs, hunched up in a ball and desperately trying to regain the oxygen he took from me. My neck felt numb, the indents of his fingers bruising and stung like a bitch.

He crouched down to me. I closed my eyes and thought he would finish it right there. But when I suddenly felt his lips press against mine, they shot back open. Breathing heavily through my nose, I stared at his shut eyelids. I glanced down at his lashes, feeling his breath as he sighed. He relaxed into me for a split second before pulling away, lowering his voice to a rough whisper to introduce himself, "It's nice to meet you finally, {F/N}. The name's Tobias."

Struggling to get myself sitting up, I made it by resting on the wall and using my hands to keep me there. My chest rapidly went up and down as I watched his every move. He backed away a bit, but not enough to give me leverage. I repeated, "Tobias?" And his eyebrow quirked up like he was questioning my reaction.

"I can also go by Toby. Whatever you prefer. But I gave you my full name because I really like you, [F/N]," he added. I knitted my brows and shook my head, unable to understand what he was saying. He liked me? He just kissed me? What the fuck?

I pushed myself away from him and got back up, running for it and successfully escaping the bathroom. The front door was right in front of me, I barely got to reach for it before I felt a hand grab a fistful of my hair. No, I almost had it!

Strands of my hair were ripped out as I was yanked backward and thrown onto the couch, falling onto it and yelping in pain. Tears fell from my eyes and I clutched my head, grabbing the part that hurt the most. A headache was coming on and I couldn't help but rock myself to soothe it. I sobbed, "Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone..." I twisted myself to let out the rest in the cushions, hearing him approach behind me.

After crying for a bit and nothing was happening to me, I hesitantly lifted myself to take a peek. Toby was sitting next to me, almost as if he was waiting patiently for me to finish. When he saw that I was staring at him, he patted his lap and said, "Here. Rest your pretty head and we can get to talking about this, sweetheart."

I was too scared of him to tell him no. It was the first time I felt pure terror from somebody. Like I would never be able to fight back with him. And I was right. I couldn't. The sad truth was that if my dad had fallen to this man, I'm sure I would live the same fate if I didn't listen. Dragging myself, I cringed while laying my head onto his leg, feeling his hand rest on my head and causing me to flinch. "Sh, sh, I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I told you, I really adore you, [F/N]," he reassured me. A part of me wanted to bite his leg to pieces, but if I went along with this until he fell asleep or left, then I could escape and possibly go to the police.

Deciding to go with it, I pretended to enjoy the warmth and snuggled into him. I wouldn't call it pretending actually, he was pretty warm. Toby hummed and it stayed like this for some time. He kept petting me, brushing my hair out of the way, soothing me from the chase earlier.

Eventually, he got bored of it and nudged me to sit back up. I tilted my head and asked, "What?" His hand went to rest on my lower back, applying pressure around it, pushing me forward until I was easing into sitting on him. A smile crossed his face at the compliance. He seemed intrigued by it.

"I didn't think you would give up this quick. I thought I was going to have to give you a couple more marks for memories," he sounded pleased as both of his arms wrapped around my waist. They were much bigger than mine, with a couple of veins etched up around them like vines, and faded scars littering everywhere on his skin. He had been doing this for years by the looks of it. There was no way in hell I was going to escape, huh?

Placing another kiss on my cheek, soft and gentle, his eyelashes brushed against me before he pulled away to speak again, "Do you know what I've been picturing every night to the thought of you, [F/N]?" His hands dropped lower to skim over my ass, lightly gripping, and dragging me toward him. My breath hitched. I didn't say a word.

Toby answered for me, "I've been picturing taking these off..." His fingers gripped around the waistband of my shorts and teased me about taking them off by pushing them down lightly. Continuing that, he said, "Have you to myself for a couple of hours..."

There were so many reasons why I should say no to him and why I shouldn't allow him to touch me like this. For one, he killed my father. He broke into my house and he was physically violent to me. I felt disgusting that he had gotten to this level too. But, I didn't stop him. I didn't say no and I didn't deny it. I looked into this killer's eyes and I leaned onto his chest, giving into what he wanted

When we kissed for the second time, I noticed how chapped his lips were, and opened my mouth a little to swipe my tongue across his bottom one. Toby tensed up. And without warning, I felt his tongue use the opportunity to have an exchange with mine. I gasped through my nose, the escalation getting worse and worse. A blush began to spread across my face.

He lifted me off of his lap to flip me onto the couch, putting both of his palms by either side of my head. I was back to being pinned underneath him. I don't know what was happening to me. Something was wrong with me, I was sick for this. I was sick... because I enjoyed this.

His sweater and shirt fell to the floor as we fought each other with kisses. His teeth bit into my lower lip and pulled it back while I moved to unbuckle his belt. I was giving in to this. I was really fucking the guy that took away everybody I loved in my life.

Barely in any clothes, we both took a moment to stare at each other, oddly feeling like he was admiring me from how he looked up and down my body. Toby took his time, pressing small pecks across my chest up to my neck, snaking his arms around to my back. He unclipped my bra and slipped it off of me. I wanted to cover myself, but I no longer wanted to move. I didn't have any motivation. There was nothing left to fight for.

The gloves and bandages around his fingers felt weird against my skin especially when he played with my chest. He squeezed one, bit the other, and once he heard a moan slip out of me, he stopped to let me process. He complimented me, his voice a bit raspy like he was fighting the urge to do something to me already, "You look even better so close like this, with how foggy those windows would get. It would make me want to break them and threaten you then and there."

I bit the inside of my cheek and he got closer, hooking onto my panties and pulling them down as a smirk spread on his face. My lack of response didn't concern him. He kept going despite that, throwing the thin fabric somewhere in the room before he looked up at me. His hair was in his face and the eyebags around his eyes told me he was more than dangerous. How many times has he done this?

Toby muttered seriously, breaking me out of the moment, "Who do you belong to?" I blankly gazed at him, watching as he stood up and slowly inched his boxers down. I can't speak. I can't tell him that. More scars appeared, his v-line making my eyes linger, and I got distracted. His dick was let out before I could respond.

My eyes widened and I tried to squeeze my legs shut, but he kept them apart as soon as they moved, holding both of my knees up to my shoulders. I was breathing super fast, my heart raced, and I was feeling the ache in between both of my legs. It was nothing compared to when he positioned himself and pushed the tip inside.

Digging my nails into his arms, I cried out in pain and threw my head back, looking up at his satisfied face. Toby groaned, a laugh following behind it, "You don't have to answer. I'll do it for you." He rammed most of what he could, grabbing both of my thighs so tightly that it was guaranteed to be bruised. I screamed out. He was too rough and too much for me to take like this. It hurt. It fucking ached. I was being drilled into the cushions.

Trying to handle it was impossible. He made it impossible for me. His hips connected as he went deeper, loud slaps coming from it, bouncing off and echoing. I didn't want to think about the neighbors hearing me lose my dignity like this. I didn't want to think about the fact my dad could be witnessing this. But it was starting to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and after that, I didn't care anymore.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him, pulling him closer and savoring his dick carving into the parts I didn't know were there. Moaning, swearing, and muttering filled the room. We were getting lost in the bliss and saying whatever was on the mind. Or I was. His name left me a couple of times and so did encouragement, "More.. More, please, Toby!"

Flipping around again when he got a little tired, I gyrated my hips and sat on his lap so I could bounce, sliding up and down until I could feel my walls beginning to squeeze. I was close and this position wasn't helping. I held my breath and Toby took notice, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Let it out for me, baby. Don't be shy," he cooed, sweat dripping down his forehead like he was holding back his own. I bit the inside of my cheek and a desperate moan came out, "Fuuuuuck, cummm with! Please!"

He didn't listen to me and lifted me off of the couch with him, holding me up in the air while guiding me down onto his shaft. I went limp and drool fell down the side of my chin as I buried myself into the crook of his neck, biting it a little to vent out the overwhelming pleasure. Toby didn't let up until a couple of more minutes of fucking me passed and I was fucked out enough that my legs were shaking.

When he was about to cum himself, he set me back down, rushing up to my face to give me a facial. My mouth was open from panting and I caught a bit on my tongue, swallowing it when we were back to locking eyes. The rest landed on my nose, cheeks, and lips. He let out a loud groan as he unwinded, pulling away to see the display once he was done.

I lay there. Used. I lay there for him to stare at. Until he walked away for cleaning supplies. To think about what I was doing. To come back down and face the new reality I was in. I was his now and he was mine. And there was nothing I could do about it.