#I don’t have the bloody time for this to be clear

[okwonyo]

FIGHT FOR YOU 。 𝗉𝗌𝗁

𝐈𝐕────𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎

❪ 𝖠 ★ 𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 ❫ 、 boxer!psh & fem!rea 1O8O fluff 𝘄 ｡ mention of blood skinship kissing ◞ ◟书

REBLOG = KISS ！

door closed but unlocked, you take sunghoon in after he knocks a few times on the door. he presents to you breathless, pecks heaving as he tries to calm the pace of his heartbeat. his hair is messy, sticky on his forehead due to his sweat. he is wearing a white tank top that sticks to his abs for dear life.

“hey, pretty,” he greets you. with his usual smirk tugging on his wounded lips. he still looks ridiculously handsome, even bruised and bloody.

you roll your eyes at the petname, although you still smile, and walk into the room without greeting him back, “close the door behind you.”

“so bossy,” he laughs quietly. he listens to your order however as you sit on the chair in front of the bed.

he sits down, right in front of you. he is quiet for a short amount of time, watching the way your fingers work softly to prepare the cottons and products you will use to ease the slight sting on his skin.

you hold his chin. turning his head to the side, you trail your eyes over his perfect jaw. you turn his head to the other side, looking at the wounds that you need to take care of.

he isn’t very bruised. just a cut on his lower lip and left eyebrow. there is also some reddened parts due to the hits he received, nothing some ice can’t heal.

“you didn’t come watch me fight,” sunghoon breaks the long silence. his lips are formed in a slight pout. it’s cute, even for a giant like him.

you laugh quietly, “i didn’t,” you can never bring yourself to. your knees buckle at the thought of him getting hurt alone. as you tap the disinfectant soaked cotton on his lower lip, you think that you will have a heart attack if you watched one of his fights.

“i won,” he tells you. you nod slowly, patting the tissue, letting the blood disappear from his perfect face. “you own me a date.”

he hisses when you press the material against his bruise. you didn’t do it on purpose, “i’m sorry—w–what?”

sunghoon’s fangs show up when he smiles so widely, “damn, do i make you that nervous?”

you sigh loudly, tossing the bloody cotton in the bin next to you, “please, shut up and let me work on you.”

he runs his tongue on his mouth, tasting the cleaned cut on his lower lip. “you can work on me anytime, sweetheart.”

you ignore his comment and the creeping blush on your cheeks. his presence makes your heartbeat go at a ridiculously fast pace. even more when he talks to you this way.

“so?”

“what?”

“you own me a date.” he presses while you clean his other cut.

you sigh once again, too busy focusing on your work to give him an answer just yet. you remember that he told you about how he wanted to take you on date. and you joked that if he won his next fight, you would think about it. but you thought it was meaningless joking.

“i don’t know what you are talking about,” you put the other tissue in the bin again. then you get up to take a pack of ice in the fridge.

you can hear the grin in his deep voice, “oh yeah?”

clearing your dry throat doesn’t help. your voice is still weak, “y–yeah.”

his gaze is hard to avoid. when you stand so close, applying ice on his bruise. you don’t know why you do it for him. he can do it himself. you don’t stop, though.

“then why are you red in the face, hm?” his goddamn smirk never wipes off his face, you swear it. his eyes are burning holes in your lips when he stares at them so shamelessly. how can he know anything about the state of your face when he is only focused on your mouth?

“stop it.”

“what?” he fakes confusion. tilting his head to the side.

“looking at me like that,” you are embarrassed of your voice’s ridiculously high pitch.

he seems amused by it. he chuckles, “like what?”

the tension in the room is building. you feel your body being pulled by his, telepathically, more and more, “like you want to kiss me or—or something!”

sunghoon falls silent. your eyes rest on his face after your sudden outburst and his gaze is still on your lips. slowly, he brings his hand to yours, the one that is holding the ice against his skin.

you can only blink as he brings it down, away from his face. “would you let me?”

you breath is stuck in your throat for a while. you eyelashes bat as you slowly try to take in what he just asked, “what?”

you want to hear it again. you want him to be clear, as he always is.

“if i kissed you,” his voice is quiet. you didn’t realize how close he got to you— or was it you who leaned in without realizing? “would you let me do it, doll?”

he is already close enough. he might be able to hear the sound of your fastening heart rate, “d–do you really want to?”

his lips tickle yours when he answers, “i really need to.”

the sound of the ice pack falling on the ground echoes in the entire room. you hold his face into your palms. his lips smash against your with such a passion that your body reacts to it like it would to electricity.

his hair are fluffy against your hand after you wrap your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his locks. he smiles against your mouth when you grip into his hair slightly.

his strong hands hold onto your waist. he yanks you closer to his body. you can feel the metallic taste of his cut on your tongue when his mouth moves so smoothly against your own.

sunghoon’s hand comes to hold your own. he slides your hand down to his neck, then your palm brush of his pecs and you soon feel his sculpted abs under the thin tissue of his tank top.

“fuck, love it when you touch me,” he says. it makes your knees so weak that you almost fall. but he holds you tighter and slides his tongue in your mouth when you yelp.

after thinking for a while, you decide that will let him take you on a date.

분지 ܃ for sallie 🎀

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist open 。

[dismalflo]

…it’s me again from the last req. maybe you could do one where it’s like one of the pure blood boys(I was thinking maybe Sirius or barty) and it’s like they don’t realise how deeply rooted like the misogyny of how they grew up is in their brains. Maybe they make an offhand comment or action towards the reader that’s like almost passive aggressively sexist and she like totally calls them out on it and is like y, u can’t talk to me like that. did that make sense? I don’t think that made sense but oh well

thankyou for requesting!! i struggled with this one for a bit but its such a good idea. i hope you enjoy <3

Barty Crouch Jr. x fem!reader where he can't quite understand why you're upset ✩ 1.6k words

cw: misogyny, little bit angsty, hurt/comfort, Barty is a dick (but he tries to learn from it), reader plays quidditch.

an: sorry i made your fave a piece of shit (with redemption) it hurt to write

“ –you agree with me Reggie, surely.”

“I do not, thank you. And do I have to remind you that your girlfriend–”

Regulus cuts himself off when he sees you approaching, but the scowl directed at Barty doesn’t shift. Barty doesn’t seem to care as he, noticing your arrival too, turns to smile so wide, you’re sure it hurts his cheeks, forgetting the conversation all together.

“Treasure!” he exclaims as you sit yourself beside him, before planting a lingering kiss to your temple.

“What were you guys talking about?” you ask before nodding to Regulus, “Heard you mention me.” 

"Barty’s an idiot, Y/N, I’m sorry." Regulus sighs heavily, standing abruptly from his seat. "I'll see you at practice, yeah?" His gaze flicks to you, not a single word is directed toward the boy beside you, his arm comfortably wrapped around your waist. The snub feels sharp, though you're not entirely sure why.

“He’s become bloody dramatic since he started seeing potter.” Barty says cheerfully, as if he’s not the most melodramatic man you know. The only times you’ve seen Barty drop his theatrics is when it’s only the two of you. He’s still impulsive and daring but the fire gets dropped for sweetness and he's lovely. You’re his and he’s yours.

“What did you do to rile him up, Bee?” you tease, leaning into his side with a gentle smile. 

He squeezes your waist briefly, pulling you in closer before responding.

“We were talking about Quidditch, and he complained about one of your beaters. I said that it must be annoying trying to get the girls to listen, poor bloke.”

You blink, processing his words, and a cold chill starts to creep down your spine. It takes a moment for the reality of what he's said to fully hit you. 

"What did you just say?" You ask slowly, your voice steady.

Barty doesn't notice the shift in your demeanor. His grin only widens, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watches you. To him, it’s just another offhand remark; playful, maybe teasing, but never meant to hurt. It’s the way he’s always been.

"I said, it must be annoying trying to get the girls to listen," he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Y’know because girls never stop talking.” he nods.

Your smile falters, and you pull back from him slightly. His arm falls from your waist, the space between you suddenly feeling miles wide. Regulus’s parting words echo in your mind, but you focus on Barty now. His face morphs into one of confusion, a flicker of amusement still lingering, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand why your mood has shifted.

 It’s laughable, really, coming from a boy that says everything that flashes through his mind, always loud and known. That’s just Barty and you’d never complain about it or ask him to change –you love him–but this rubs you the wrong way.

“You’d prefer that I didn't speak so much, then?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Tres, I didn’t say–”

“But you did, Barty! I'm on that team! I'm one of the girls Regulus has to deal with!”

Barty blinks, clearly thrown off. His smile falters for a moment, and he opens his mouth, likely trying to smooth things over with some careless, half-thought-out joke. But when he sees the sharpness in your eyes, the edge to your voice, it makes him falter.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he begins, his tone defensive but still a little unsure, his hand coming up to run through his hair–because he’s frustrated or nervous you can't tell. “It’s just that, well… y’know, girls can sometimes be a bit more, uh, talkative than the guys–”

“Are you serious right now?” You cut him off, your voice not loud, but steady with the kind of controlled anger that makes Barty’s stomach twist.

Barty opens his mouth, then closes it, unsure of how to proceed. An uncomfortable feeling taking hold, but there’s also something inside of him—a deep-rooted, unexamined part of him—that wants to dismiss this as you being too sensitive. He’s never really thought about his own words that deeply, never had to. Growing up, he was surrounded by a very particular brand of masculinity.

"I didn’t mean to offend you, honestly," Barty says quickly, his voice softer now, though still with that edge of defensiveness. "I just meant that—"

"Yeah, I know what you meant," you interrupt, voice icy. "But the problem is, Barty, you're so used to saying whatever comes to your mind without thinking about it for one second. You don’t get to say things like that and just get away with it. "

He stares at you, his mouth opening and closing again, looking as though he’s trying to piece together exactly where he went wrong. His brow furrows, a flash of frustration crossing his face. 

"You're making it sound like I hate women or something. I don’t. You know I don’t. It was just a joke."

“No, I don’t think you hate women,” you respond coolly. "But you clearly don’t get how ingrained some of that shit is.” You stand up suddenly, ready to walk away. “I’ll see you later, Barty.” 

-

It’s just past curfew when you hear the knock on the door of the girls' dormitory. You open it, bleary-eyed and ready to tell whoever it is to sod off—only to find Barty standing there, hair a mess, eyes wide, hands full of... flowers?

They’re awful. Wild, lopsided things that look like they were pulled from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And he’s holding them like they might explode.

“Hi,” he says, voice tight with nerves. “I—I brought these. They’re not from an actual florist or anything, but I thought maybe you’d like them anyway because... well, because I’m sorry. And I didn’t know what else to do.”

You raise an eyebrow, but you don’t close the door.

“I was a dick,” he continues, words tumbling out now like he’s afraid if he stops, you’ll shut him out for good. “A stupid, arrogant, loud-mouthed dick who didn’t realise that he’s been spoon-fed this idea that making fun of girls is just ‘harmless banter’. But it’s not. Not when it’s you. Not when it makes you look at me like I’m someone you don’t recognise.”

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“I don’t want to be that person,” Barty says, voice breaking a little now. “Not with you. You make me want to be—better, not just louder.”

The silence between you stretches.

“I hated how quick you were to dismiss it. To dismiss me,” you say, voice softer now, but still firm. “You’re smart, Barty. You should know better.”

“I do now. I was thinking about it and then I went to talk to Reg about it. He said it's something about the way we were raised, some batshit thing that goes hand in hand with my fathers bullshit, but I know that's not an excuse, tres.” He steps forward slightly, holding the scraggly bouquet out like a peace offering. “Please let me make it up to you.”

You hesitate. But in his eyes, you see none of the easy arrogance you’d grown used to. There’s only sincerity.

You sigh and take the flowers, fingers brushing his as you do. They're prickly in places, uneven, with leaves still clinging to the stems—but they’re honest. Wild and untamed, just like him.

Barty doesn’t grin. Doesn’t make a joke. He just walks in slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his robes, like he’s afraid to breathe too loudly.

You sit on the edge of your bed, the flowers resting in your lap. He stays standing.

“I’m not good at this,” he says after a beat. “Like… not just the apologising part, but the learning part. I've been told I’m clever all my life, and it’s made me lazy. I don't question things unless they get in my way.”

You nod, watching him closely.

“But you’re not just someone in my way. You’re the person who makes all the noise in my head worth it. So if I’ve got to unlearn everything just to not lose you, I’ll do it.”

A breath catches in your throat. “This isn’t just about keeping me, Bee. It’s about being someone better. For you.”

His eyes flicker, glassy for a moment, and he sits down—tentatively—beside you. “I know.”

You glance down at the flowers again and then up at him, lips tugging into a small, reluctant smile. A silence settles between you.

 “These are hideous.” you say finally. “You can’t just fix things with flowers and guilt, Barty, It’s not that simple.”

“I know.” His voice is quiet, sincere. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

Barty reaches over, tentative, and places his hand over yours. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t try to pull you closer. He just stays.

“I’m gonna mess up again,” he says softly. “But I’ll listen. I’ll learn. And I’ll apologise when I do. Properly. Not with jokes.”

You glance at him, heart aching with something complicated and warm and stubbornly hopeful.

“You’d better.”

His smile is small, a little broken around the edges, but real. “Does this mean you’re not going to dump me?”

You pretend to consider it, then lean your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “You’re on thin ice, Junior.”

He huffs a laugh, and for the first time tonight, it sounds like him.

“I’ll take it,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your hair.

masterlist <3

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter eleven

Synopsis: You’re awake, Invincible is back from a two-month space excursion and tensions are high in the Guardian’s Headquarters.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Chapter: 11/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: PTSD-like Symptoms

Note: Here we are!!

You couldn’t hear the fluorescent lights this time, it was too busy around you. Your eyes felt heavy, and you were exhausted, more than usual. Multiple voices talked over each other from all around you, one you recognized instantly as Cecil’s. After a short struggle, you managed to open your eyes, there must have been over ten people crammed into that little room.

“She’s awake.” One of the people next to your bedside stated, they were wearing a mask, must have been a doctor or a nurse. You looked down at your arms to find several tubes trailing off from you, something you had not seen in a long time.

As if they were all working from the same neural connection every single one of the doctors and nurses exited the room almost in single file. Leaving only Cecil. If you were more awake it would have unnerved you.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something more important?” Your voice came out softer than you expected, crackly.

“You don’t think this is important kid?”

“I’m not sure what this is.” You admit, pushing your hands against the bed in an attempt to sit up. A sharp pain appeared in your side just to immediately disappear. A pain that did not immediately disappear came more strongly from your arms. Your body seemingly having realized the foreign objects was attempting to heal around them. “Shit.” You muttered, immediately going to pull the various tubes from your individual arms.

“Wait-!” It was too late, you had already grabbed them in a single handful, pulling them out. You rubbed your arms separately as your skin almost instantly mended the needle entry points.

“Sorry, that started to hurt like a bitch.” You croaked, and as if on cue your head started pounding. You held the heels of your palms against your forehead for a few seconds, fighting to stay quiet while the pain rippled through your body, and then: it stopped. Your head was still aching but there was nothing left to heal.

“Those were slowing down your healing process. Your body was overcompensating and keeping you in a state of limbo, we had to place those so it would stop trying so hard.” Cecil held to fingers to his temple, closing his eyes in frustration.

“Well, I’m awake now, so I must be fine.” You shrugged slowly dropping your hands from your head and giving him a guilty smile.

“This is the third time you’ve woken up.” Cecil muttered, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Oh.” You looked down and rubbed your sore arm a little. It wasn’t a pretty picture, the idea of you having woken up just to convulse in a bloody mess not once but twice. You waited a few moments to see if your headache was about to progress further, but it continued to just ache timidly. “Guess I’m okay?”

Cecil sighed, taking a few steps away from your bedside.

“How long have I been out?” Usually, it was only a few hours you were out, and then you were back on your feet without any help at all. What was different this time?

“Three days.”

Three days? You jerked up into a completely upright position, panic immediately starting to rise in you, and not for the reason you expected. You were afraid yes, but not that you were losing control, you were afraid Cecil was going to let you go. That he was going to fire you.

“What kind of backlash are the Guardians giving you?” You asked cautiously, your fingertips gripping the course, thin hospital blanket.

“They haven’t said anything. I am sure there are tensions, but I honestly have had much more important matters to deal with.”

You were afraid to ask, was he talking about you? This problem? You squeezed the blanket tighter and considered just pushing through it, offering your resignation.

“Invincible is back.”

“He’s back?” You state dumbly, your mind immediately goes blank.

“Just arrived, has a kid with him, we believe it to be Omniman’s.”

“Omniman’s?”

“Appears so.”

“Appears so…” You echo. God stop repeating him. However, you didn’t have anything to say about this, it felt like too much information. Usually, Cecil was very guarded, you weren’t sure why he was being this open with you about this situation, something told you that you’d find out soon though.

“He’s going to check in with me sometime later today, I would like you to be there, see what you can feel, if anything.”

“Today?” STOP REPEATING-

“Do you not feel up to it?”

“No, I do- or I think I do-”

“Great. Then meet me in the training room once you are dressed. You have some clothes on the counter there.” You look over and sure enough, there is an outfit, it looks business profession rather than your supersuit.

“Did you know I was going to wake up today?” You quickly turned your head to look at him again, examining his expression.

“No, but I hoped.” He seemed genuine, sincere. He placed a pat on the guard rail of the hospital bed, probably the closest thing to physical reassurance you would ever get from him.

__

Your nails made a clicking noise as you tapped them on the metal gurney. You haven’t been in this room in at least a week now. In the field training was proving much more fruitful than working only with ReAnimen. The chill of the room you never seemed to get used to though, no matter how much time you had spent in there. You figured it was that way to keep the body fresher, sure they were usually drained of blood, but this one wasn’t. Specifically for your benefit.

For your benefit. You frowned down at it, the bright red eye dully looking back. Who was this person before they became this? Cecil had told you they were soldiers, “serving their country one last time”. Was the first time not enough?

Your fingers continued to tap on the cool steel, your gaze staring off past the corpse. Three days you were out, three whole days. And the whole time it felt like you were having that nightmare over and over again. You didn’t remember ever waking up, it was probably better that way. A defense mechanism, so you don’t remember the trauma of it. You could hardly remember going out the first time, it was still coming back in pieces, but mostly you remembered Rex’s voice. You weren’t sure why. He had sounded so panicked; an inflection you had never heard from him. He was cocky, arrogant, whiney even at times. But never panicked. Anyone would respond like that if they saw someone in front of them begin hemorrhaging to that degree. Did you really expect him to have no reaction?

Your gaze settled in the corner, and for a moment you could swear you saw someone, just in the corner of your eye. Out of reach, just in the distance. Wearing a dark uniform, a gun in his outstretched hands. You jerked your head to look and there was nothing.

You were starting to hate this room.

“Ready?” Cecil is standing near the door, you hadn’t heard him arrive, either by teleport or by walking in.

“As I’ll ever be.” You give him a nod, absentmindedly straightening out your dress shirt. “Why am I dressed like this by the way?”

“Where we’re going it would be better to be discrete.” Cecil walks towards you, he’s holding a wristband of some sort. He holds his hand out in a gesture for you to do the same and once you do, he clasps it around your wrist.

“You think it’s my color?” You turn your wrist over a few times before looking at him again.

He doesn’t respond, no scoff, no nothing. Tough crowd. “Try not to needlessly speak, I am not sure how this will go.”

You nod, opening your mouth to verbally affirm him and then in a blink your surroundings have completely changed. You had expected to feel sick or jarred, but it almost felt natural, it didn’t even feel like the terrain changed underneath the soles of your shoes.

You were in a building, you knew that much. Great deduction Sherlock. The walls were painted a tan color while the carpets were blue. The kind of carpet you see in office spaces, so any type of mess or spill isn’t as obvious. And- yeah no you had no clue where you were. There weren’t any windows around either, just rows of wooden doors. Maybe an apartment complex?

“All of them!” A voice sounded from around the corner seconds before the owner of the voice appeared too. A man with dark black hair nearly collided with Cecil before jumping back with a started noise.

“And when exactly were you planning to tell me you were back?” Cecil’s expression was surprisingly soft. You looked back and forth between the two of them trying to catch every micro expression, anxiety instantly rising in you. Why couldn’t Cecil ever seem to properly brief you? How hard would it be to say, ‘hey yeah were going to see Invincible immediately, no prep no nothing’, or ‘there is a security guard who HAS A GUN’? You were getting better at improv though, maybe a good back up if Cecil decided to fire you.

Mark’s gaze settled on you for a moment before jumping back to Cecil. “I mean, it’s not like you didn’t know.” This was going horribly already; you felt extremely out of place. Mark was practically bristling in the exceedingly short exchange the two were engaging in so far.

Cecil furrowed his brow before talking. “I ordered you not to go. You were gone two months. Now you don’t even check in?”

“I needed to see my mom and my girlfriend first.”

“We had a deal, Mark. You promised if I put you in the field, you’d follow orders. You don’t get to pick and choose when that applies.”

Mind you, less than a few hours ago you were peacefully knocked out in a hospital bed. Well, suffering a constant repetitive nightmare but still. If you were in control of the teleportation involved with your wristband you would be out of there. You weren’t sure why the high tensions were getting to you so much right now, but you really felt like you weren’t meant to be there. And it was only a matter of time until Mark actually took notice of you.

Maybe you were embarrassed. Invincible was one of your major inspirations. Reading his file had given you the confidence you had needed when you first started on with Cecil. And now that person was real to you. Standing a few feet away in a dark blue sweatshirt. Maybe you felt bad, felt like you were betraying this person you had never even met in person. You weren’t stupid, you had pieced together why it was so important to Cecil that you learn how to manipulate Viltrumite blood. And in theory, it made complete sense, Omniman turned bad, what is to stop that from happening with Mark?

But you also worried that in setting up these fail-safes Cecil might be pushing Mark towards it. In a way, it was a threat. If any of the Guardians knew what you could be capable of you were honestly nervous that they might try to kill you. Or at the very least never trust you again. Could you blame them?

“I saved millions of lives out there, Cecil. And it looks like everything here was just fine.” Mark responds defensively.

“Yeah. Things were just peachy.” Cecil turned his attention to you as if expecting you to step forward. Oh great.

You stepped forward trying not to immediately mess up whatever point he was trying to make. “There have been a few minor everyday issues, but just a few days ago an unidentified entity by the name of Omnipotus made an attempt at conquering the world. Several major injuries were sustained by different supers.” Professional, like an official report. Crap it might have been straight from the report you gave to Cecil on the ordeal now that you thought about it. Who cares, you weren’t making a fool of yourself yet. “You know… basic Tuesday stuff.” And there it is. Very nice. You wanted to blow your brains out.

“The Guardians almost died saving the planet while you were off gallivanting with space bugs.” Cecil turned his attention directly back to Grayson. If he was unhappy with your input, he in no way showed it in his demeanor.

“What I did out there, what I found was important.” There was a pause and Mark looked between the two of you. He blinked a few times before scowling slightly. “You already know, don’t you?”

There is another pause, and you are completely lost. Once again, your mind wanders to the fact you were completely unconscious not that long ago. And now you were standing here in a pantsuit that made you look much more mature than you felt.

Cecil sighed, drawing your attention back. “We keep an eye on Debbie for her protection. Passive monitoring, mostly. Certain keywords trigger a closer listen.”

“Unbelievable.” Mark scoffs before resting his hands on his hips. “You’re angry about me not reporting in? I don’t need to. You’ve got cameras in my mom’s house.”

“It’s not cameras. We would never do that.” This made you give Cecil a sideways glance. You were almost certain he had some way of monitoring your apartment with cameras. Or had it just been auditory devices? How else had he left that note on your nightstand that night all those weeks ago? Had he just heard you and known that you were going through something? He must have seen it. You were almost sure of it. Would he lie?

“All right, since you already know everything, I’ll go see my girlfriend like I planned.” Mark went to pass you both, brushing slightly past you. The side of your hand leading up to your pinkie finger made the briefest contact with his arm. And for a moment you could swear you felt it. The blood flowing through his veins. Your eyebrows raised slightly at the revelation, an expression that Cecil did not miss. He looked at you for a moment before looking up at Mark as he was walking away.

“Fine by me. I’ll send a team to pick up Nolan’s kid.”

You felt your expression change immediately as your eyebrows knitted together in a wince.

Mark immediately turned around with a soft gasp. “You can’t.” His voice was soft, disbelief clear in his tone.

“What are you gonna do? Leave him with your mom? He’s an alien. We’re more qualified to take care of him.”

“He’s my brother, not a science experiment.” Mark stepped towards Cecil again, moving forward in front of you.

Their arguing fades as you turn your mind towards the life source of the person standing in front of you. His shoulder is directed towards you, his entire attention on Cecil. Thrumming, like rain on a tin roof. Thrumming, thrumming. His heartbeat. It’s a promising sign; you didn’t even notice it anymore when you used your powers on normal humans. You didn’t have to use the same amount of concentration with them now that you were so experienced. Or more experienced at least.

You could almost feel it, just beyond your reach. Like trying to grip water in your hands, the droplets escaping over the sides and the cracks of your fingers. Grabbing at smoke.

“I’m sure your mom will love looking after her ex-husband’s new kid.” Your concentration returns to the conversation at this. Mark had a scowl on his face, and Cecil was not looking too happy either. Should you say something-?

And in an instant, you were standing back in that room. The cool of the area raised goosebumps on your skin.  

“And?” Cecil was looking at you expectantly, his head tilted slightly.

“I felt something.” You admitted softly. “I think I can make the link.”

Cecil nodded and you could almost swear he could smile. If anything, he at least looked relieved. “Good, I’ll have someone bring the blood bag back in. I want you to give it a few tries again.”

“Should I be jumping right back into all of this after the last time putting me under for three days?” You ran a hand over your adjacent arm, trying to create a semblance of friction to chase away the chill. “Donald said my brain waves were becoming unpredictable. Last time there were almost no signs besides my headache. I almost feel like it’s becoming easier to enter an episode with each time.”

“How do you feel?” Cecil said simply, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Do you have a headache right now?”

“Uh- no?”

“When was the last time you remember being completely without a headache?”

You thought for a moment, when was the last time? It must have been before the museum job. You had gotten so used to it over the past weeks that it almost felt like you had never been without one. “A while ago.” You admitted softly.

“I had your brainwaves monitored the entire time you were out. I believe that because we were able to artificially slow down the process, your body was able to properly heal. Everything that it has been doing a bang-up job over while you had your energies focused on other things should now be up to optimum capacities.”

You glanced at the gurney while he was talking, subconsciously nodding along. “What if you’re wrong?” One of the things you were most nervous to admit. Something you thought that voicing might get you let go. But you were scared. What if you never overcame this?

“Kid,” Cecil starts, “Killdeer.” He squints slightly as if carefully putting together what he is going to say. “I don’t have a doubt in my mind about your place here and at the Guardians. You are a valuable asset and a loyal member.” He crossed his arms while speaking. “I have placed a great deal of trust in you on sensitive matters. But I am also aware that with knowledge comes a lot of pressure. Keeping secrets isn’t fun, it’s not exciting. It is a duty, and one that I do not entrust to just anyone. And it is our duty-” He gestures between the two of you, “to do what must be done. To be the ones who ensure the world is safe. No matter what.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, still not completely sure. If you just worked in tandem with Cecil every day for the rest of your working life, you were sure you could manage. But the problem was you had to work with others. With Immortal, Kate, Shapesmith, Rex. You couldn’t stay at his right hand, feeling sure that you were making all the right moves and doing what was best. You had to be independent, and that was just not something you were sure you could do one hundred percent of the time. At least for now, you didn’t have to.

“You sent a team to pick up Mark’s brother?” Your eyebrows lifted in concern as you returned your eye contact back to Cecil.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Do you really think I was just oh so ready to have a pissing contest with a Viltrumite?” Cecil scrunched his face at you. “I wanted to give you more time to assess him.”

“Oh.” You felt a little silly at this. “A little high risk don’t you think?”

“Why don’t you leave it to me to calculate the risks.”

__

A ripple, you had been able to cause a single ripple before you decided to give it a rest. It felt insignificant at first since you were so far past the ripple stage with human blood. But as you were cleaning up to leave it dawned on you how much this meant. You were truly improving. You were going on missions and holding your ground, you were making progress with your relationships on the team.

Well, some of them.

Well…maybe two of them.

Maybe.

Crap, Rae. You just remembered the concussion she had received during the last fight and how you told her you were going to check on her the next day. You should probably stop by the R&D floor inside the Guardians too, as they most likely have your suit.

The sound of a single click reverberated off the walls behind you, small, almost unnoticeable. You practically snapped your neck to look back, but there was nothing there. Just the same blank walls, and steel gurney. You could feel your breathing pick up; did Cecil have invisible agents stationed here with you? No, you couldn’t feel anything living within the area of the room. You would know.

You would know, you would know- You took a few deep breaths trying to calm down. You knew it wasn’t real. You knew exactly what the clicking sound was. The sound of a bullet entering the chamber of a gun. The sound you had barely registered before the sharp crack of it being fired assaulted your eardrums.  

Maybe you should talk to Cecil about having a few days off.

__

Almost instantaneously as the elevator doors slid open you could feel the atmosphere shift. Most of the members of the Guardians are standing in the common area. The wall display has video playing as well as several diagrams loaded up to the side. As you take a few steps out of the elevator you realize each of them are of you. The video is security cam footage from your training room. How did they even get that? There was no way it would slip through that easily with how guarded Cecil was. And the secrecy that revolved around her private training sessions.

The others were diagrams of your face, different muscles outlined, with individual pointers leading away from them.

Another part of the screen is playing footage of your episode from the other day. Your body is limp in a pool of your own blood, and Rex is still holding your hair, his other hand trying to hold your head up out of the growing overspill. Maybe he had been nervous that you would drown in your own blood. What a way to go.

Another step closer seemed to alert them all to your presence, Rudy’s voice stopping as several of them looked over at you. You have got to be kidding me. What are the chances you decide to go in while this is all happening. It had to of been low, you were out for three whole days and now is when they decide to discuss…whatever this is. “They haven’t said anything” Thank you Cecil. Constantly monitoring every little thing until it comes to this somehow.

“Ah, Killdeer.” Rudy said with an unreadable tone, and his expression didn’t give away much else either.

“What’s going on?” You tried to give them a confused smile, anything, but your tone came out sour. You were too tired for whatever this was.

“Why didn’t you feel it was necessary to make known that you are prone to- whatever this is?” It was Immortal who spoke, his hand gesturing to the screen displaying you completely passed out.

Your eyes rested on it for a moment, the display was on loop, portraying a constant purgatory of Rex frantically yelling something while you lay motionless. “It doesn’t concern the team.”

“Something that doesn’t concern the team would be what you had for breakfast this morning, not this.” Black Samson interjected; his voice didn’t seem near as accusatory as Immortal’s, but you still could feel your defenses rising.

“I’m getting it under control, it doesn’t affect my work.” You state shortly. Not necessarily the truth, but you had no intention of explaining it much further. But maybe you should. You could tell them the limitations of your abilities and the side effects. You don’t have to mention anything besides healing. It would be the truth.

A glance over the group of them reveals something that stops you though. You’re met with furrowed brows and concerned glances. You stand alone in front of a mass of people. And none of these individuals have any intentions of listening, they are already forming opinions about your competency before you can explain anything. Your eyes land on Rex for a moment, who is standing near the front, his arms crossed in his usual judgmental stance. But his face does not reflect this same sentiment, he looks almost shocked to see you. His eyes run over you time and time again as if seeing a ghost. As soon as he meets your gaze though his expression hardens. Typical.

“You don’t get to decide if it affects your work or not.” Immortal declares, his lip twinging slightly upwards in a grimace.

“You all have seen me in the field, I have been nothing but competent and I have even saved a few of you.” Your eyes land on Bulletproof, the edges of his mouth are down turned, but he runs a hand over his arm as if checking to make sure it is still healed.

“Competency is not the only thing in question. There has also been a lack of honesty.” Rudy doesn’t say this to you but to the rest of the team. It’s starting to feel like you are in court, with no lawyer to work on your behalf. “We cannot work cohesively as a team if we are not able to trust each other. You for some reason have read our files, which means you know a lot about us.” He’s holding his hands together with the tips of his fingers. “Why did you purposely hide this?”

You grit your teeth, trying to not let your tone reflect your growing unease. “I did not purposely hide it; I did not think that it was something I needed to make fully known. I can usually monitor when an episode is coming. This one…snuck up on me.”

“How often does this happen?” Rae was asking this time, genuine concern on her face as she stepped forward.

“Not often.” You felt bad not being able to be completely honest with her, out of all of them you wanted to tell her the truth the most. “It’s really not a huge deal-”

“I watched your fucking head explode asshole!” Your gaze snapped to Rex, he had let his arms fall, his fists clenched at his sides. “What about that isn’t a huge deal?”

You opened your mouth to try shooting back a response, say something snarky about him finally learning to care about someone other than himself for five seconds. But the argument died at your tongue, he looked upset. Not just angry but upset. You hadn’t considered how it might affect someone to witness what to you had become a common occurrence.

“I motion that Killdeer should be put on suspension for the time being. All current headquarters’ access revoked until we have the time to consider all the information and consult with Cecil.” Rudy proposed this to the group in front of you, but his focus was on Immortal.

“Wait, what?” Your expression softened in surprise. There are some murmurs from the small gathering and a few people look unhappy with this. Rae and you exchange glances, she does not seem at all enthused with the prospect of your absence even if she was caught off guard by this whole situation.

“I mean, shouldn’t we put it to a vote or something? Is it really the best choice to just toss her out?” Amanda spoke up, with her eyes on Rudy.

“This is not a democracy.” Immortal responded concisely.

“It is too much of a risk to have her in the base, we don’t know enough.” Duplikate cut in.

“We’re meant to be a team, what happened to loyalty to our teammates?” Bulletproof finally spoke up.

“Loyalty implies trust. I haven’t seen her doing a whole lot of that.” Duplikate’s stare bore into you at this. At least now you knew she didn’t like you rather than having to wonder.

“What do you have to say, Rex?” Rudy asked, his monotonous voice was beginning to get to you. He could at least sound angry while screwing you over. “You had the most invested interest in this. Without you, I might not have looked into it further.”

“What?” Your gaze lands on Rex, he almost looks guilty, his left hand reaching over his torso and clasping his other arm. You weren’t sure why you were surprised. He had been consistently the most vocal about wanting you gone. But for some reason it still felt like you were being punched in the gut, the air forced out of your lungs.

“I don’t…” Rex didn’t finish, his jaw was set tightly, and his creased brow was directed back at Rudy.

“Killdeer should be required to fully explain herself. Tell us why she thinks she should stay.”

You finally ripped your eyes from Rex to return them to Immortal after his statement. Looking at them all was beginning to put a bitter taste in your mouth. “You want me to beg.” You scowled at Immortal, only further annoyed by the righteous look he was giving you.

“If you wish to remain as apart of this team then you might want to lose the indignant attitude.”

“You know what, I am not even technically under you Immortal. No more than Invincible is.” You clenched your fists tightly at your sides. “And it doesn’t matter anyways. Because I quit. You are all incompetent, sorry, jerks-” Oh wow you really got them there. “And I couldn’t imagine hating myself enough to continue working with any of you.” You throw your hands up and turn to storm straight for the elevator.

“If you leave now, you are never entering this building ever again.” Another power trip from Immortal. You knew he did not actually have the power to say that. If Cecil made you come back then you would be back, regardless of what he wants. You weren’t about to stand here as if you were on trial to these people, and definitely not to The Immortal.

“If I never came back, it would be too soon!” You retort, pushing the button for the elevator. Taking in the looks on their faces for, what at the time, you hoped would be the last time. As the elevator closed multiple people started talking at the same time, directed at Rudy and Immortal, loud and disorganized. The only person not immediately turning their attention to the dispute was Rex, the one who started all of this months ago without you knowing. His expression was unreadable, but you knew yours wasn’t. You had spent months trying to mostly play nice, but now you were giving him the most resentful glare you could muster. As the elevator doors closed there was a sudden silence, it immediately blocked out the commotion. Just the soft mechanical whirring of the elevator traveling down.

Quiet. Actual quiet. You couldn’t even conjure a thought. This was the first time you had real silence in a long time. No anxious ramblings, no fear that your head was about to explode, no Rex. Just quiet.

Once you were in your car you just sat for a bit. It had been so long since you just took in the moment. There were some new indents in your steering wheel. Or if they weren’t new, you had never noticed them before. Pulling out onto the road you opened the windows. The wind was cool against your skin, welcoming. Not like the cool of the training room. You looked in the rearview mirror and watched Headquarters grow smaller behind you. The air smelt damp but fresh. Like the morning dew on fresh green grass.

It looks like it’s going to rain later.

Author's Note: You might want to refresh on chapter one if you want, but next chapter will be a Rex POV, so there will be a bit of recap there as well :) Thank you all for reading this far! I have a lot more I want to do with this.

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101

[jtargaryen18]

The Arrangement ~ Chapter 10 Preview

Coming by Friday...

Tommy arrived late to the shop that morning, not by hours, but late enough to turn heads. His tie was slightly loosened, a rare thing for him. He couldn't get the sight of his beautiful fiancee out of his head. He wasn't sure how he'd even dragged himself out of his own bedroom with her still in bed, wearing only his shirt and her brand new ring. With her smiling at him like that... He'd really wanted to strip everything off her but the ring, and spend a couple of hours making her sing for him, beg for him. 

But there were things to be done now. There was security to plan, names to cross off lists. A wedding to finalize that would silence every voice in Birmingham daring to question who she was to him.

Still, as he pushed open the door to the betting shop and stepped inside, a ghost of a smile stayed with him. 

Arthur spotted him first. “Well, would you look at that,” he muttered, elbowing John. “He’s grinning. Poor bastard’s in love.”

John leaned back in his chair, boots on the table, hands behind his head. “So? Did she say yes?"

Tommy crossed the room like a man with a hundred fires to put out, but for once, he didn’t seem burned by it. He dropped a file onto the table with a quiet thud, glanced up, and smirked. “She said yes.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Arthur said with a grin, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder. “We’re all done for.”

Even Rory cracked a smile from where he stood near the window, arms folded.

The jokes settled after a moment, replaced by the sound of pages turning and footsteps echoing down the hall. But Tommy didn’t sit. Instead, he glanced toward Rory.

“I need a word,” he said. Not unkindly.

Rory stepped forward without hesitation, and Tommy met him halfway. 

“I know your father’s gone,” Tommy said. “And I’d like to ask you to stand in for him.”

Rory’s brow furrowed.

“At the wedding,” Tommy clarified. “To give her away.”

Silence. Arthur went still, and even John lowered his boot from the table. Rory looked like the breath had left his lungs.

“I...” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You want me to...”

Tommy nodded. “If you’re willin’.”

Rory swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’d be honored, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy clapped a hand on his shoulder, firm and brief. “Good.” His grip lingered a second longer as his gaze met Rory’s. “And it’s Tommy,” he said quietly. “You’re family now. One of us.”

Rory stood a little straighter, as if the weight of the words hit him somewhere deeper than he expected.

Arthur gave a rough nod. “’Bout bloody time someone around here had some sense.”

John grinned, nodding his approval. Laughter loosened the tension in the room for a moment, but the meaning stayed. Rory wasn’t just marrying into this life through his sister. He was part of it. And from where Tommy was standing, Rory had bloody earned his place.

Flipping open the map of Birmingham laid out on the table, Tommy steered the conversation back towards business. “Now, security. I want every man on alert. We’ve got a week, and no surprises.” He jabbed a finger at the church, then the mansion, then a few key streets surrounding both. “Stationed here, here, and here. Anyone breathing the wrong way near the wedding party gets stopped. Ask questions later. I want eyes on rooftops. Intersections. Train platforms.”

Arthur leaned in. “You want snipers?”

“Don’t want ‘em,” Tommy said. “Already called two. Lee boys. Trusted.” He looked up. “They’ll be on rooftops."

John gave a low whistle. “All this for a wedding.”

Tommy looked him dead in the eye. “Not just a wedding. It’s a message to every family from here to Camden Town. I want everyone to know who my wife is, that she's mine to protect. That means something.”

Rory nodded his understanding.

That was when John shifted, clearing his throat. “On the topic of family… Lizzie’s still seeing Angel Changretta.”

Tommy’s brow lifted slowly. “Still?”

“Spotted ‘em two nights ago, walking by the canal like they didn’t have a care in the fuckin’ world.”

Arthur scoffed. “Christ, she knows better.”

“She should,” John muttered, sharper now. “Should’ve known better than to get tangled with Italians. Especially that Italian.”

Tommy sat back slightly, eyes narrowing. “It’s a distraction. And worse, it’s sloppy. She knows who the Changrettas are.”

“She doesn’t care,” John bit out, then caught himself. “Or maybe she does. She’s always liked trouble.”

Arthur smirked. “Or maybe it’s you that cares, eh?”

John glared at Arthur. “Shut up.”

Tommy raised a hand. “That’s enough. I’ll speak with Lizzie. She’ll end it.”

Rory hadn’t said a word, but he was watching them all with that quiet, calm read-the-room silence of someone new to the politics, but no less aware of the tension.

John huffed and sat back. “I’m just sayin’… if he keeps sniffin’ around, someone’s gonna have to put the bastard in his place.”

Tommy gave him a cold look. “Not until I say.”

John didn’t argue, but the heat in his eyes hadn’t cooled.

Tommy closed the map with a snap and leaned forward, voice low and final. “No fuck-ups this week. None. After the wedding, we can deal with any loose ends.”

Tommy’s fingers tapped against the edge of the table as the others started murmuring about routes and patrols. But his mind wasn’t on the map anymore. It was on John. On that twitch in his jaw, the low simmer in his eyes. John was going to be a problem. Not because he meant to be. But because when John got that way, jealous and wound too tight, he didn’t always wait for orders. No, he'd look for somewhere to bleed out that frustration.

Tommy's gaze landed on Rory across the table, still silent. But his eyes had shifted too, narrowed slightly, tracking John the same way Tommy was. Good.��At least someone else saw the storm coming. And if it came to it, he might need Rory to help hold the line.

As the meeting wrapped, Tommy straightened, brushing a hand over the lapel of his coat. “I’ll be in London for a couple of nights for the expansion if you'll remember. I leave in the morning.” His voice was cool, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. “Until I’m back, I expect the house guarded. Eyes on her at all times. No risks.”

Arthur nodded immediately. “You don’t have to worry, Tom. We’ve got it covered.”

Rory nodded.

Tommy gave a short nod of approval, but his gaze lingered for a beat on John, who hadn’t said a word. John was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. Distracted. His foot bounced restlessly beneath the table.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That clear, John?”

John snapped his head up, forcing a smirk. “Crystal.”

But Tommy didn’t buy it. Not for a second. He turned for the door without another word, but the thought stayed with him, pressing sharp against the back of his mind. Something was coming. And his brother John was going to light the bloody match.

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

I haven’t eaten much today

I had fruit and yoghurt and the rest of a cream bun in the morning

Ate a couple of pakoras when I got home. Had a custard bun.

I haven’t eaten like. A proper meal

I was tired after cooking dinner (grilled chicken sandwiches) but I had gotten up to force myself to eat

And then I realise

That thing that flicked onto the garden door when I pushed my cat off the bin

That I cleaned up

*was a worm writhing about that had come from his tail*

Like

A white, slimy, small parasite worm

I’m not typically that squeamish. I didn’t gag or anything, but my appetite which was tenuous to begin with, is gone.

It’s also the fact that I’m tired and very fed up with my family today, even more so now that this has happened because it’s going to be my time (which is already packed) used up to take the cat to the vet

As well as getting the bloody deworming pills for myself

[jaesblogstuff]

Some soft fluff. He’s basically like a lovesick lost child when you have to leave home without him.

—

You’re halfway through swiping on your lip liner when you hear the soft pad of boots on the hardwood behind you. He’s back earlier than expected, and you feel his presence before he even says anything.

“Didn’t think you’d be home yet,” you say, glancing at him in the mirror. He’s leaned in the doorway, black shirt rolled up to his elbows, forearms crossed as he watches you.

“Wrapped up quicker than planned,” Simon replies. His voice is low, that familiar Northern rasp brushing against your nerves in that way it always does.

You turn slightly, revealing the open back of your dress. “Could you—?” you ask, nodding toward the zipper.

He pushes off the doorframe with a quiet grunt, stepping behind you. You hold your breath. There’s something intimate about asking someone to zip you up—especially him. You feel the air shift when his fingers graze your spine.

He fumbles for a second—warm hands brushing lightly against your skin, the zipper resisting him just enough to be annoying.

“Complicated thing,” he mutters, almost to himself, a tiny scoff under his breath. “Imagine—a bloody military lieutenant, can clear a building in under five minutes, but can’t zip up a dress.”

You laugh under your breath, but it catches when his hand lingers after he finally gets the zipper to slide into place.

He doesn’t move right away. He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Then one to your jaw. Then another to your lips.

“Simon—” you say, through a laugh, as he pecks your mouth again, and again, “Stop, you’re gonna take off all my lipstick.”

“That a threat or a promise?” he murmurs, smirking.

You roll your eyes and gently press your thumb to the corner of his mouth, wiping away the smudge of red that’s transferred to him. “Now you’ve got it on you, too.”

“Y’look good,” he says finally, voice a little rougher now. He drops his hand, but not before letting his fingers brush down your spine like a promise. “Too damn good to be going anywhere, if I’m honest.”

You turn to face him fully, and there’s that half-smile you only ever get in private—tired and a little lovesick. His hand twitches at his side like it wants to reach for you again.

“I’ll be back before midnight,” you offer, teasing.

He huffs. “Not worried about the time. Just… hope your girls appreciate the effort. If they don’t, I’ve got eyes for hire.”

You roll your eyes, but your grin gives you away. “You saying you’ll follow me?”

Simon tilts his head, just slightly. “I’m saying… you look like trouble. And I’ve got a bad habit of keeping trouble close.”

You lean up, brush a kiss to his cheek��lingering just long enough for him to sigh quietly, and then grab your purse.

At the door, you look back once. He hasn’t moved, still standing there with that look. Like he’s memorizing you. Like letting you go tonight costs him something.

“I won’t be gone long,” you say softly.

His eyes don’t leave yours. “You’d better not be.”

And when you finally walk out, you swear you feel his gaze on your back all the way down the hall.

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

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[beloveds-embrace]

Part two of the Lavender Marriage au! Considered adding smut to this but I chickened out lmao if the ending is abrupt it’s because of that 🙂‍↕️

The four men are fuming.

Since witnessing the lip-lock battle, they’ve been stewing in barely-contained anger. Every time they see you- on your porch in one of those sweet sundresses, humming to yourself as you water the flower boxes or hand them freshly-baked cookies- they’re consumed by a burning desire to tell you the “truth” about your cheating husband. But the ring on your finger, and your seemingly cheerful demeanor, stop them every time.

Still, they’re restless. It’s wrong to let you live in ignorance like this. But also, it’s not their business even if they want it- even if they want you. The thought of ruining your cozy life, despite your husband’s unfaithfulness, isn’t an easy one to swallow.

It becomes easier to think of admitting it all to you with each passing day, though.

“He’s walking around like he’s done nothing wrong! The bastard. How does she not see it?” Kyle grumbles, gesturing wildly with his tea mug. He grits his teeth, watching your husband saunter inside the house without offering to help you. He just puts down a plate of steak Kyle knows is too fucking cooked. Heathen. Bastard. Ughhh.

“She’s either blind or loyal to a fault,” Johnny agrees, sprawled out on the couch, looking far more despondent than usual. “Breaks ma bloody heart, lads. She’s makin’ us lemonade an’ cookies, an’ he’s aff canoodlin’ wiith some bloke under her roof.”

Simon grunts, his eyes narrowing as he joins Kyle’s side. “What kind of man cheats on her? She’s…” He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence, but everyone knows what he means: She’s perfect.

Meanwhile, John leans back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on a cigar. He’s been unusually quiet, though it’s clear he’s just as agitated, fist clenching on his lap. Finally, he speaks, his tone commanding.

“We wait until he leaves,” he says, much to the others’ dismay. “We don’t meddle now. If she finds out on her own, we’ll be there for her. Until then, we keep our mouths shut.”

The others grumble, but they nod in agreement. For now.

You, meanwhile, are oblivious to the internal warfare raging next door. Your days are filled with your usual routine of pretending to be the dutiful wife, gossiping with the neighborhood ladies, sweetly cooing about your hardworking husband, and pretending you don’t know they will gosspi about you after you leave. On the way, you also deliver a basket of homemade muffins to your handsome neighbors.

Such good men; they didn’t even yet know they were your little kitchen rats to taste-test everything you make for the annual baking contest. This year, that bitch Beatrice will not win and you swore it.

“Oh, these look incredible,” Johnny says when you hand over the basket. He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you can’t help but smile back, cheeks warm. “Y’know, if yer husband does not appreciate all this, I might just have ta steal ye away, lass.”

You laugh, waving off the comment as a joke, but the other three men go rigid. “Not the time, mate.” Kyle mutters, elbowing Johnny, though you really don’t notice. Their house is coming along so nicely and so fast; the perks of having handy men as its owners, you suppose.

Later that day, while you’re trimming the hedges of your precious little garden , you spot Simon working on their roof. You catch him staring at you- not that you blame him, you are wearing your one of cutest skirt and top- and you give him a small wave. He almost falls off the roof even if he does wave back, so you decide to just focus on the damned hedges and hopefully avoid any more incidents.

They’re so distracted by your lovely self that they almost forget their rage toward your husband. Almost. Because just as Price and Johnny are helping you carry bags of groceries back to your house, your husband- traitorous bastard- walks out of the house all patient and whistling.

“Be back soon, honey! You know how long my business trips take.” your husband calls over his shoulder, giving you a quick wink before he hops into a car and drives off.

Unbelievable.

The tension is palpable. John glares. Johnny looks like he’s seconds from sprinting after the car. Simon mutters, “Unbelievable,” under his breath from where he and Kyle are watching from the window.

“Oh dear,” you sigh, though on the inside you are very happy. You know your husband’s boyfriend has a nice surprise picked for him- you helped get it, after all- and now you have the house all to yourself again. Perfect.

You turn to John, batting your lashes up at him and it is as if all his anger melts away. “Be my guests this evening, John? I’d be terribly lonely, all by myself in this big house.”

John really, truly, fucking hates your husband for doing this to a precious, lovely thing like you. But at least it means they’ll be the ones in your company.

“Alright, doll,” he nods, fond as he watches the grin stretch across your face. “Let me just go tell the muppets, then we’ll come by and help.”

“There’s no need-“

“I insist, sweetheart.”

That evening, as promised, the four of them come by to “keep you company” and help. You’re in your element, flitting around the kitchen in an apron as you serve drinks and chatter away, oblivious to the tension radiating from the group. You are practically glowing; your pretty flowers were complimented and the food looks so good you can’t wait to post it on your instagram.

Simon leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring daggers into the walls- into the portraits of you and your husband. Kyle is poking at one of the cookies you made like it’s done something to offend him, his mind adrift. Johnny’s chopping away at vegetables, muttering under his breath and wishing it was something else under his knife. And John? He’s nursing his whiskey like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. It might as well be. You talk so nicely about your husband and what he’s customized for you in the kitchen, still so unaware of the truth.

John contemplates just telling you right then and there, but then it happens.

The front door swings open, and in strolls your husband, laughing loudly with none other than his boyfriend- the one the group saw kissing. They’re holding hands, both grinning like idiots.

“Sorry we’re back so soon!” your husband calls out, completely unbothered by the fact that your house is now hosting four very large, very angry military men. “I forgot my wallet-”

The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when he notices the four men staring at him, expressions ranging from pure disbelief to murderous rage. His boyfriend freezes too, glancing nervously between you and the men like he’s walked into a firing squad.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Johnny practically shouts, pointing between the two men with the knife. “You’ve got the audacity to bring him here? Here?”

Kyle crushes the cookie when he slams his fist on the table, standing abruptly. “Under her roof? After all she’s done for you? Again?”

Simon doesn’t say a word because he truly doesn’t need to- he’s just staring, fists clenched, practically vibrating with barely-contained fury.

John finally speaks, his voice low and dangerous, pulling your surprised self against his side protectively. “You’ve got some confessing to do.”

Your husband just… blinks, then glances at you. “Wait, you didn’t tell them?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t think it would come up like this.”

“Tell us what?” John demands, his tone sharp. He is still glaring at your husband and the boyfriend

You wave your hand dismissively, like this is the most normal thing in the world with a soft sigh. “Oh, we’re not really married for love, John. It’s just for the benefits- y’know, keeping his parents off his back and mine off mine.”

The room falls silent. Dead silent.

“What?” Simon finally growls, his voice low and dangerous. All this time…

Your husband grins sheepishly, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Yeah, I’m gay. This is my boyfriend. He’s great, isn’t he?” He says, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek.

Johnny looks like he’s just been hit with the frying pan the vegetables he’d been chopping was meant to go in. “Yer what?”

Kyle stares at you, wide-eyed. “You knew? This whole time?”

You shrug, popping a cookie into your mouth. Ohh, Beatrice should count her fucking days. “Of course I knew. We planned the whole thing together. It’s not that complicated, really.”

Simon mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

“Anyways, we do have places to be,” your husband sighs. “I’ll just get my wallet and leave you all be to your date.” When he returns with his wallet a few minutes later, he kisses your forehead. “Bye, love. I snuck some of the cookies too- Beatrice is absolutely not winning this year, trust me.” And then he leaves at last.

John exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You’re married but it’s just… out of necessity, and you’ve just been… pretending to love him?”

“Exactly!” you say brightly, clapping your hands together. “See? Not so hard to understand.”

The four men just stand there, utterly gobsmacked.

“You mean to tell me,” Johnny starts, pointing an accusatory finger at you after placing the knife down. “that we’ve been stewin’ for weeks over a cheatin’ husband that doesn’t even exist?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you reply with a giggle, pouring a drink. Your eyes widen then. “But you cannot tell anyone here, in this shitty town, about this!”

“We won’t, love, promise.” Kyle groans, slumping back into his chair. “I need a bloody drink.” And then he perks up when you slide him the drink you just made. “…fucking lifesaver you are, love. Thank you.”

Simon just shakes his head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” under his breath.

John sighs, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go. “You’re going to be the death of us, doll.”

You grin, completely unfazed. “Oh, come on, boys. It’s not that bad.”

The four of them exchange a look- one of disbelief, exasperation, and maybe just a hint of relief. Because as much as they’re reeling from the truth, one thing’s clear: you’re technically single. And that, at least, is something they can work with.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! may i get a poly marauders x reader where reader just completely becomes quiet and stuff around negatively raised voices? like if two of the others (not necessarily reader) are arguing and suddenly theyre arguing in raised voices and reader has grown up in that kinda household so she js makes herself absolutely scarce in fear of one of them snapping at her or smth? sorry if this is very specific or if its not something ur comfortable with lol have a great day :)

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: implied trauma around shouting/aggression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“You didn’t think to look for a sign?” 

“I didn’t see any sign.” 

“There was a sign less than ten feet away.” 

“Okay, I saw that one.” Sirius reaches up into your cupboard, shuffling things around until he gets to the sleeve of biscuits in the back. His attention is noticeably not on Remus. “I thought it was only for the spot it was posted in front of. They ought to make those things more clear.” 

“The rest of us always manage to interpret them fine.” There’s no bite you can find in Remus’ tone. He’s not standing stiffly, or crossing his arms. But deep in your chest, there’s a small coil of tension brought about by something in your boyfriend’s demeanor you can’t identify. It has you lingering at the edge of the room. You think Remus is more upset than he’s letting on. 

Sirius seems to sense this, too. “Oi, it’s nothing to get your knickers in a twist about. It’s being handled, isn’t it?” 

“It is being handled,” Remus says. He rubs his thumb into his temple. “I’m beginning to wonder how many times it’ll have to be handled before you learn how public parking works.” 

“I did think after three tickets we’d be done with it,” James jokes, oblivious to the rising tension. “Surely at some point the towing company must start giving us a discount.” 

Sirius pops a biscuit in his mouth. He folds his arms, speaking around it. “I’m taking care of it, alright? I’ll pay the ticket. I’ve already paid the towing company and gone to the lot to get the car back—which ate up a good chunk of my day, by the way, so I don’t really fancy coming home to be lectured about it.” 

“Sirius.” Remus sighs harshly, eyes closed as if this is all giving him a headache. “Do you really want me to feel bad for you about a mess you got yourself into?” 

“I just don’t see what’s left for you to be pissy about!” 

“Right, well, you’re not the one who’s going to have to go to court for it, are you? This is our fourth parking violation, and the car’s in my name. I’m going to have to use a sick day for it.” 

“Just let me go instead, then.” 

“That’s not how it works, Sirius.” 

You find yourself retreating from the room on silent feet, disappearing down the hall. 

“Would you stop saying my name like that? I can’t bloody well help what’s already happened. I’ve said I’m sorry, what else do you want me to do?”

“I’m not sure you have said that, actually.” 

“I’ve said I’ll go to court for you!” 

“Hold on,” James cuts in, “let’s just—” 

“Doesn’t sound quite like the same fucking thing, does it?” 

You shut the bedroom door with a soft click. It deadens the voices, though the sharp tones seem to pierce the wood. You push out a breath, forcing it around the tension in your chest. 

Everything is fine. Nothing truly bad is going to happen, not with these boys. You feel caught between pressing your ear to the door to hear every word and putting in your earbuds to drown it all out. 

It doesn’t take terribly long for the tones to soften into something safer. Not kind, exactly, but less jagged. James’ voice chimes in more often. You hear more sighs than scoffs. The feeling in your chest stays, primed. 

When Sirius comes to find you, you’re scrolling aimlessly on your laptop. 

“Hi,” he says, giving you a little smile as he slips in the door. 

You smile back. “Hi.” 

“It’s all clear out there, just so you know.” Sirius sits at the end of the bed, a gentleness in his features that makes you feel sheepish. “Safe to come back out if you want to.” 

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly. 

“We’re okay, baby.” 

“And you and Remus…” 

“He’s still a bit miffed with me,” he admits, “but we’re alright. I’m going to see if they’ll let me go to court for him since I was the one using the car.” 

You nod. The inside of your cheek finds its way between your molars. “I’m sorry you got a ticket,” you say. 

Sirius smiles, gray eyes soft with fondness. “Thanks, sweetness. It’s okay. It happens, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Some could argue it might happen less if I was perhaps a bit more cautious.” 

Your lips quirk. “They could.” 

“But it’s all fine. Everything’s really alright, we’ve made up. Do you want to come have dinner?” 

“Oh.” You get up. “Yeah, sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “What’re you sorry for?” 

“I didn’t mean to hide.” 

He hums, pulling you close to press his lips to the side of your head. “I don’t blame you,” he murmurs. 

James is stirring a pan of vegetables in the kitchen, his arm wound snug around Remus’ neck. They appear to be speaking quietly between kisses. When Sirius pulls out a chair for you at the table, James turns with a smile. 

“Hey, lovie.” His voice shines with affection. 

It’s not a scene you’ve always been used to after an argument. Smiles and a shared meal, all of you in the same room together without a sharp look exchanged. 

“Hi,” you say back, trying to smile in the same way. Your feet come up onto your seat, legs folding into a pretzel. 

Remus leans around James to see you better. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to drive you off.” 

“You didn’t drive me off,” you reply. You both know it’s a lie. Remus’ mouth slants sympathetically. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” you say, honestly. Sirius rubs your thigh like he’s going to make sure of it. “You?” 

Remus smiles softly. “I’m alright. Thanks, sweetheart.” 

“I think we should institute a new system.” The vegetables hiss as James pushes them around in the pan. “Whenever two of us are having a row, the other two get to vote on who’s right, and that’s the end of it.” 

“But,” you hesitate, “there’s four of us? What if it’s a split vote?” 

“Then that’ll be the least of our problems.” You can practically hear the eye roll Remus is holding back. “Taking sides would never work.” 

“Agreed,” says Sirius. “I vote that James doesn’t get to institute new systems.” 

“What?” James sulks. “You always take Remus’ side.” 

“Clearly not.” 

“Well, you always do when it’s against me!” 

“I’m going to leave again,” you joke, gratified when James instantly apologizes and Sirius puts his hands over your ears. 

“You heard her.” Remus smiles, dropping a light kiss to James’ hair. “No more bickering, you two. Honestly, I’ve no idea what possesses you. Can you believe them, dove?” 

“Nope,” you say, smiling. 

Sirius fixes you with a look. “I’m going to start bickering with you next if you’re not careful.” 

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[devil-in-hiding]

John Price wouldn’t consider himself a possessive man. Never felt the need to keep a tight leash on former lovers, more so he would call himself protective, obviously.

However if you were to ask his men, which he advises you to not give those muppets the time of day, they would tell you he is possessive over what he deems as his.

Which includes you. You are the most constant thing in his life besides his duties and the team. You keep his head straight, at his side with a glass and a cigar, ushering him over to collapse onto his office’s couch on nights he feels as though if he types one more word his head might actually explode.

“I need to-“

“I will finish typing up this report, YOU will relax. You have bags under your eyes.” Never taking no for an answer, and he always gives in. It gives him a chance to admire you, the comfortable silence the two of you sit in whilst you type away, muttering to yourself as you go over his notes.

It’s one of the little things he adores about you, always seeming to find you having a conversation with yourself as you tend to whatever task he had asked of you, or, when you indulge them, whatever Soap and Gaz begged you to do for them before Price found out.

And that’s where it starts. If he finds you working on something he assigned to those idiots, he does not expect to find HIS pretty girl doing it. He has made it clear to you, multiple times, that you don’t have to do it just because they sweet talked you into it. Oh and help any young solider that tries to treat you as a glorified errand girl. One young man made the mistake of barking an order at you, the water was running low and he had seen you talking to Ghost, and you just about jumped out of your skin when the guy all but yanked you away, missing the way Ghost stiffens (he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, ever, but he also knows Price is watching, always.)

“You deaf or somethin’ you daft girl? I told you we needed-“

“Let go of her. Now.” Price’s growl has both of you spinning around, and he glares down at the recruit, who cowers.

“I was just asking her-“

“She is not a bloody errand girl. Now, I said let go of her.” His voice drops, and the recruit drops your wrist as though you had burnt him. “Captain Price-“

“A hundred laps. Get to it before I up to one fifty.” He barks, and the young man scurries away, eyes wide and Ghost watches the way John gently lifts your wrist, inspecting it.

“He didn’t hurt you now did he pretty? Bloody fuckin’ muppet, should make him scrub the toilets.” He mutters, tracing his finger over a vein.

“I’m okay John, really. I think you scared him enough as it is.” You smile, falling into step behind him as he strides towards his office. “Let’s get you away from these idiots.”

“Yes sir.”

[starlight-sev]

A View From Above (Severus Snape x Reader)

Or, that time you shared New Years Eve with a kindred spirit.

A/N: Happy (belated) holidays! I hope this season treated you well. This is a gentle, fluffy one, a hug in writing form to anyone who may find the holidays to be a struggle. It’s not always an easy time, and I’m thinking of you ❤️

The cold night air bit at your cheeks as you nestled yourself further into the nook of the Astronomy tower. It may have been cramped, and not to mention near freezing, but it had one of the most beautiful viewpoints in the entire castle.

And not to mention the quiet. This was the only place you were able to clear your head properly.

“You’re not off at the party with the rest of the staff.” The sudden remark nearly made you jump, despite being quietly spoken. You shifted in your little corner, looking up to find Severus standing a few feet away. He wore his trademark stern expression, but for a split second you could’ve sworn he was biting back a smirk.

“I thought you were a student, the way you’re all crammed up in there.” Severus nodded to your little corner, and this time a tiny smile did make it to his face. “I was ready to take points away and send you to detention in the morning.”

You snorted, pushing yourself up out of your corner to properly greet your coworker. While you wouldn’t go so far as to call Severus your friend (he’d have your head if you did, probably), you felt… comfortable around him. It was more than could be said about the other staff.

“Drew the short straw and got put on patrol, I guess?” You asked, stretching your legs a little as you moved to lean against the guardrail of the tower. Severus followed suit as he settled in beside you, scoffing.

“They’ve come to know over the years that I never attend Dumbledore’s bloody holiday parties. Since I don’t go, I get patrol duty. It’s become… an unspoken rule.”

Severus paused, gazing curiously at you.

“Had I known you wouldn’t be attending tonight’s party either,” he continued slowly. “I would’ve volunteered you for patrol tonight.”

“Why?” You retorted with a small laugh. “Missing out on the festivities now, after the fact?”

“No,” Severus drawled. He rolled his eyes at you, but you caught the small huff of a laugh that left him. “It would be nice to celebrate the new year in peace. Alone. Like you’re doing now.”

“Well…” you thought for a moment. “You can stay here with me. I won’t say a word, it’ll be like you’re alone.”

As you looked out at the lake, you caught Severus turn to gaze at you properly out of your peripheral vision. Heat crept up to your cheeks, and you kept your gaze on the water below.

“You went away for the holidays.”

You blinked in surprise, finally turning to meet Severus’s gaze.

“I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.”

He nodded. “But you came back early. classes don’t start for almost another week.”

Despite the constant statements, your co-worker’s dark eyes were filled with questions. You usually appreciated Severus and his matter-of-fact nature, but things were feeling… too close.

“My family.” You sighed, not wanting to go into too much detail. “The holidays are hard. I go visit because I have to, but this year was too much.”

You braced yourself for more questions, but to your surprise Severus simply nodded.

“The holidays are godawful.” He murmured.

“Is that why you never go home for Christmas and New Years?”

Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line. Now he was the one to keep his gaze on the lake below.

“Let’s just say, I’ve burned many bridges over the years.”

You gazed at him, watching the way memories of his past left a murky darkness in his eyes. You shuffled over a bit more, instinctively wanting to provide some sort of comfort, to let him know you understood. To your surprise, Severus didn’t step away.

“Want to know why I come up here?” You asked softly. Severus raised an eyebrow in question.

You beckoned him back over to your little corner a few feet away, and crouched down to the small window.

“Here, squeeze in,” you murmured, tucking your knees in and wrapping your arms around your legs. Severus glared at you skeptically.

“You’re much smaller than I am.”

“Oh, stop it. You’ll fit. Come on. Just tuck your legs in a bit.”

A ragged sigh and an unintelligible grumble later, Severus was crammed into your little spot beside you. You were surprised at how warm he was, despite the cold air that drifted around you.

“See there? Down there, to the right?” You pointed through the window to a far-away cluster of tiny lights. “It’s a village. Right at midnight, they set off the most beautiful fireworks. From here, they’re so small, it’s like watching them from space almost. It’s nice, without all the noise and chaos of actually being there.”

You glanced quickly at the time and smiled. “It’ll be midnight soon. Not much longer now.”

“You can’t- argh, my leg-” Severus cut himself off as he shifted positions, trying to fit beside you comfortably. Your knees knocked together and you tried your best to shuffle in further to give him a bit more space. Your hands brushed together as a result, and you fought to ignore the way your heart jumped.

“You can’t see this from anywhere else more comfortable?” He asked, his voice strained. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

“No. The lookout doesn’t stretch this far. If you’re lucky you’ll maybe catch one or two fireworks if they go astray, but this is the only place where you can see them all.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, save for Severus shifting every now and then to keep his legs from cramping up as he sat beside you.

“Have you ever been kissed on New Year’s?” You murmured softly, resting your hand against your cheek. The look of surprise on Severus’s face mirrored your own feelings as you realize what you just said. You expected Severus to scoff at you in his usual tone, but to his surprise he shook his head.

“No. I suppose going to parties would’ve certainly helped with that, however.”

You held back a laugh, only to let it bubble up as Severus glanced at you with perhaps the only warm smile you’d ever seen him show.

“And you?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “But it was… odd. It felt forced. We were both drunk.”

“How romantic.” You laughed once more at the sarcasm that was evident in Severus’s reply. “You’re really selling the tradition from how you’ve described it.”

“You’ve really never been kissed at midnight?”

“Was my first answer not clear enough?”

Despite the biting reply, there was laughter in his eyes.

“No, just… I’m surprised, that’s all. It’s something everyone should experience just once.”

“So is getting hungover, but you don’t see me scrambling to experience it ever again. Besides, who are you to talk? You just said your New Year’s kiss was awful.”

“I never said that!” You protested, only to receive another signature glare. “It was just…”

Severus snorted. “Certainly wasn’t good, from the sound of it.”

“Okay fine,” you sighed, running your hands over your face. “It wasn’t good. But it wasn’t awful either.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

You laughed, elbowing Severus teasingly. To your surprise, he nudged you back gently.

“I’m glad it was you that found me up here.” You murmured, pulling your knees a little closer to your chest. Severus gazed at you, smirking.

“Why? Filius or even Minerva would’ve enjoyed this spot. At least they would’ve fit.”

“Not that.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s just… you’re the only one I feel I can be myself around. Like now. I’d never be able to talk about this kind of thing with anyone else.”

Severus gazed at you silently, his eyebrows knitting into a tiny frown as he processed your words.

“Sorry. That came out of nowhere.”

“Don’t apologize.” He replied softly. He didn’t say anything more, but there was a comforting warmth that filled his eyes. No words were exchanged, but you felt as though you understood.

A tiny spark flashed in the corner of your eye, and you glanced out the window as tiny fireworks bloomed in the distance.

“Oh.” You gasped softly. “We missed the countdown. It’s midnight.”

“Mm. So it is.”

You turned your gaze to Severus, whose gaze was fully absorbed in the fireworks. The conversation from a few minutes earlier ran through your mind, and you leaned forward to press a tiny kiss to Severus‘s cheek. He gazed at you, bewildered.

“Happy New Year.” You managed to squeak out. The shock faded from his eyes, and it was replaced by that familiar warmth as he softened. Severus dipped his head respectfully in acknowledgement.

“Happy New Year.”

The two of you sat together in silence, watching the fireworks. Then, to your surprise, Severus tapped your arm lightly.

“This, us tonight, stays up here?”

To your surprise, it wasn’t a statement. You could see there was a bit of nervousness in his eyes. You nodded.

“Yes. Of course. This is our secret. Why do you ask?”

The air felt heavy for a moment as Severus paused in thought, before closing the already-small distance between the two of you. He pressed his lips softly to yours, caressing your face with both of his hands. In the back of your mind, it hit you that he was gentle and calculated in literally everything he did, not just potions. It made your head spin, and your heart race.

The fireworks were over by the time the two of you pulled away. Severus let his gaze fall away, but you caught his hands in yours before he could pull away completely. You squeezed his hands reassuringly to let him know it was okay, and he returned your action with a kind smile.

“Hopefully that… wasn’t as awful as your last New Year’s kiss?”

You let out a giggle, and felt a rush of pure joy run through you as Severus shared your laughter.

“That was, by far, the best. And hopefully not the last?” You added shyly.

In response, Severus leaned in and kissed you again.

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 

“Loved him so bloody much.” 

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

[loves0phelia]

hi! I wanted to request a cute jj fic where they’re just being cute together and he’s overprotective (can you base it off an episode in the series?)

thanksss!

Risking

Summery: Moments JJ risked his life to protect you.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: near death experiences, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm like 100% sure this is not what you meant but this is what i came up with, thank you for requesting xxx (for anyone that requested i will do them all eventually, might just take time)

JJ was always protective of his friends no matter what, whether it was in a fight, an argument or just a small altercation, he was ready to protect. But with you, it was quite different. He wasn't just protective, he was ready to kill to assure your safety. He followed behind you wherever you went like a personal guard. He would do anything to shield you from any harm.

The first time you noticed just how much he was committed to your protection, was during the Kegger at the beach. You and him had begun dating a couple of months prior and it was the first beach party of the summer, where kooks, pogues and torons met to have a good time.

“Hey, y/n! How are you doing?” Your head turns when you hear the call of your name. You notice  Topper, Rafe, and Kelce approaching. Their presence quickly becomes hard to ignore. They are always looking for trouble, even when there is none.

“Oh, uhm I'm good Rafe, thank you for asking” You began looking around for the familiar head of blond hair you loved combing your fingers through but only failing.

“Looking for someone?” It was now topper's time to speak up.

“Actually yes, I'm looking for JJ-”

“Yeah I don't actually care, you want a drink?” Topper smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eye; it was in no way comforting. It was malicious.

“No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight…” You slowly start backing up feeling cornered by the trio.

“Relax, we’re just being friendly. Have a drink with us. Unless, of course, you’re too good for that. But you won't deny a free drink, right, pogue?” Topper pushed and almost shoved the red plastic Solo cup filled with beer that tasted like pee in your face.

“What the fuck is going on here” Sighing in relief, A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you heard his voice coming up behind you. You turned to see JJ striding over, eyes hard and jaw clenched. His gaze flicked from you to the three boys, warning in his stare.

“There you are, we were just offering your little bitch of a girlfriend a drink, isn't that right y/n?” Topper laughed, feigning innocence. 

JJ didn’t back down, his voice low but clear. “The fuck did you just call her?.”

Topper took a step closer, his grin mocking. “I called her a bitch. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” He laughed and earned a slap on the back from Rafe.

Before anyone could process what was happening, JJ's fist was swinging toward Topper landing a solid punch across his jaw.

The air was thick with tension, and you instinctively took a step back—until Rafe's hand caught your arm, gripping tight.

“Let go of me!” you snapped, trying to pull free.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Seeing you struggle, JJ’s face darkened

JJ lunged toward Rafe as Topper troubles to stand from the sand still winded from the hit he received. Then, In a second everyone at the party began circling the fight.

Both blond boys punched and kicked around earning cheers from the crowd surrounding.

“Stop!” John B and Pope push through and quickly pull JJ off the bloodied Rafe.

“Lay a hand on her again, and you’re dead. Got it!?” He screamed at his face before getting completely pulled off.

JJ’s demeanour softened as soon as He turned to you, “Hey, you alright?” he asked, gently brushing his fingers over the red handprint on your arm.

You let out a relieved breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, thank you,” you whispered, slowly raising your tippy toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek.

His hand raised to your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you away from everyone. He couldn't wait to lay in bed close to you.

the second time you noticed was when he was ready to take a bullet for you. You and your friend hadn't expected your summer to turn into a treasure-hunting adventure but here you were with a nugget of badly melted gold in your pocket on your way to a “warehouse”.

“Is there really a warehouse out here?” Your friend, Kiara asked, confused. The route you were on only had forest and maybe a couple of cabins nearby, no place where someone could be keeping 70k in cash.

“That's what she said, hehe that's what she said” JJ smirked and you from your spot on his lap slapped his thigh and gave him a warning but playful look.

‘Shut up” Pope said unimpressed which only made JJ's smile fall into a frown.

“Sorry baby,” You said and kissed the tip of his nose and his smile was back immediately. He had already forgotten his bad joke.

“Cops? out here?” Your little make-out session was interrupted by the flashing of the red and blue lights and siren.

“Hide the gold!” All the pogues panicked and tried acting as innocent as possible, but JJ only tightened his arms across your lower stomach holding you against him.

Barry appeared, his face hidden with a skull scarf, and in his hand was a shotgun. He raised it, pointing it directly at John B. in the driver's seat. You all froze, hearts pounding.

“Why don't you get out and raise those arms in the air” Barry sneered. “Right now!”

John B stepped out of the van, hands raised high in fear.

“Come everyone get out! Let's go”  Shaking you slowly got up from your place in JJ's lap and got out of the car.

“There you go pretty girl, hurry up!” He pointed the gun in your face, the barrel touching your forehead.

“Relax bro!” JJ jumped out after you and instinctively pushed you behind him. His face was dark with anger as he screamed. Your heart jumped in your throat when the gun shifted from you to him.

“Stay back bitch!” he shouted at JJ.

“Face down in the ditch, get down on your knees” He threatened with his gun and pushed down Pope's head as you all got down in the dirt.

After a short while, Barry went into the van and went looking for the gold but as he was searching John b got up and went into his car to ambush him.

Thankfully his plan worked and as soon as John B got the gun out of his hand you all rushed to help. JJ ran and punched him in the ribs, Kie punched his face, Sarah pulled the car door on his face twice and you kicked him as hard as you could where the sun dont't shine.

Barry spat, his anger mingled with a hint of fear now. “You’re dead for this. You hear me? All of you!” You all just took what he had stolen from you and left.

Later that night in bed pressed against JJ's stomach at the chateau you thought about the situation.

“You can't jump in front of me when there's a gun involved” You whispered and JJ's rubbing movement on your back stopped.

“the hell I can't” he scoffed.

“You're gonna get hurt badly if you keep protecting me.”

“It's my job to protect you, if something happens to you I will literally die, I can't live without you” His sentence made your head shoot up.

“You mean that?”

“You're the love of my life y/n, nothing matters more to me than you.” You carefully laid your head back down on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat and hugged him tight, almost wanting to crawl into his skin.

The third time you were out in open water, nowhere to turn, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Sarah had gotten kidnapped by her family and you and the rest of the pogues were on a mission to save her.

The boat pitched and swayed on the ocean. JJ and you stood side by side, backs pressed to the railing, as you faced off against Renfield, an employer of Ward Cameron. 

The man grinned wildly, holding a machete with a terrifying confidence, the blade shining menacingly in his hands. 

“JJ look out!” He lunged forward, machete raised, his eyes locked on JJ. Your heart leaped in fear, but JJ ducked, narrowly dodging the swing. The machete sliced through the air, missing by an inch.

Before he could make another move, you stepped in, launching a punch right into his nose throwing him off his balance. But he quickly got back up continuing the fight.

Before JJ could fully react, Renfield rushed forward, landing a brutal punch across his jaw. The force of the blow sent JJ stumbling backward, right up against the railing. Disoriented, he struggled to regain his balance.

His vision was blurry but he didn’t miss how The blunt end of the machete in the man's hand was making a beeline for your head.

“Y/N!” He lunged from the floor and pushed you out of the way. 

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your feet as you watched JJ topple backward receiving the hit that was initially meant for you, arms flailing as he plunged into the dark, icy water below.

“JJ!” you screamed, rushing to the side, your eyes frantically scanning the water for any sign of him. The boat rocked beneath you as you leaned over, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

Without a second thought, you kicked the man and jumped in after your boyfriend.

“JJ!” You swam closer and closer until you reached his floating body, you held him and hugged him close to your body, elevating his face above the water.

“Please! John B.” You felt yourself sink further as you frantically moved your legs beneath you.

“Please, JJ I can't, I can't” You choked on the water filling your mouth.

As you sank several pairs of hands grabbed onto you and JJ pulled you onto a smaller boat when you realized your friends had saved you you rushed to JJ's side, begging, and shaking his shoulder attempting to bring him back.

“Please get up!” suddenly he began coughing up water and slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh my God” You sobbed and held his face gently with your hands.

“Sup” Everyone around you erupted in laughter and you laid your forehead on his chest giggling.   “Don’t… ever do that again,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

JJ chuckled weakly. “Can't promise anything”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite the panic that still lingered. 

“I'm coming with you,” you argued.

“No you're not,” JJ said as he was putting his diving gear on.

“Yes, I am” You take the second wetsuit and start unzipping it.

“Hey, no” he takes it from your hands and puts it aside.

“Yes, JJ. I am going down with you whether you like it or not” Your tone hardens which took him aback, JJ rarely saw this bossy side of you, you were always soft-spoken and gentle or at least with him you were. 

After pulling on the suit and oxygen gear both you and JJ were ready to go down.

“Okay guys remember the safety stops, or else you get the bends” Pope warned and you both nodded.

The water was calm and clear. Underwater, everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rhythmic hiss of your breathing through the scuba gear and the faint echo of distant waves above. It felt like a different isolated world.

He gestured to you, pointing toward a dark shape partially buried under a rocky overhang. You nodded, eyes bright under the goggles as you swam toward it, fins propelling you through the water. 

But before either of you could examine the wreckage further, a shadow passed over you, casting a sudden darkness across the sandy floor.

Just as you looked up, the unknown diver was on you. The stranger grabbed you by the shoulder, yanking you backward, forcing you to drop the small underwater flashlight you had been holding. 

“y/n!” JJ’s eyes widened as he took the spear he had brought down with him and stabbed the attacker without mercy. But that angered him. Quickly he turned and punched JJ, with his skills he swam quickly and locked JJ up in a room inside the wreck while he was disoriented, leaving you alone with the man.

“NO!” he yelled but it was muffled by the oxygen tube.

The stranger’s hands reached for you again, trying to get hold of your air tank, and when he did he cut off your oxygen supply. Your lungs burned instantly from the lack of oxygen and panic.    As soon as JJ managed his way out of the trap he was in, he shoved his regulator into your mouth, completely uncaring about his need for oxygen. He took your hand while you were taking desperate breaths and he kicked himself forward, rushing to the surface and escaping from the attacker.

As you broke through the water, you both gasped for breath and clung to each other, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Are you okay!” His hands reached for your face, and you only weakly nodded.

“Talk to me please, baby” 

“I'm okay” You swam closer to him and he held you without daring to let go until John B was near.

When you finally reached the safety of the boat you and your boyfriend sat close. You were still panting, your chest heaving but as you took another breath, you felt a sudden, sharp pain twist through your chest.

"Guys, are you okay?" Kiara asked, noticing the pained expression on your face.

You tried to respond, but winced, feeling an intense, stabbing ache radiate from your joints to his abdomen. Your head spun, and you suddenly felt nauseous as though your blood had turned to acid. Panic flashed in Pope's eyes as he watched you and his best friend struggle, the realization hitting him hard. 

"They have the bends, we need to get them to the hospital" Pope and Cleo slid their arms around JJ's back lifting him up and John B. and Sarah did the same to you. 

JJ panicked at the sudden disconnection between you too, You were so close now so far apart because of your friends separating you. 

“y/n” JJ moaned as pain shot through his side.

“We're getting you both to the hospital!” pope shouted. The ride felt like thousands of hours, the pain was unbearable. 

"Almost there, guys, just hold on," Sarah encouraged, as she tried making you both take deep breaths. 

The van rattled down the dirt road, jostling you and JJ in the back as you leaned against each other, pale and clammy, both fighting the building pressure in your heads and chests. 

“go, go, go” one of your friends screamed and tore the van door open pulling you out of the car. You struggled through the hospital door and in a second you were shoved into a small, cramped hyperbaric chamber that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two.

After a couple of minutes of groaning, heavy breathing and twitching you both cooled down shoulders pressed against one another, his breath shallow and quick, matching your own in the tightness of the space. His fingers slid into yours sneakily.

JJ glanced over, a spark of guilt in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably now tracing his fingers on your face. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from all this” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You met his gaze, his face so close you could see every freckle on his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his hand brushed your cheek as he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'm glad you didn't,” you said. JJ’s hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt yourself leaning in, just slightly, as though pulled by a force.

“I'm glad you didn't because if you did I wouldn't be here with you ” you whispered, unable to look away.  Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap, kissing him with a fierceness you didn’t know you had.

JJ’s lips met yours, soft and warm, and his hands found their way to your waist, pulling closer. The hum of the machine, the aching in your muscles, even the fear — all of it fell away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in this moment.

“It’s the first and last time I ever let something happen to you, got it?” You grinned and rolled your eyes. You shifted, grabbed a pillow and quickly pushed it directly in front of the circular window before climbing on his lap pressing a deep kiss to his plumped pink lips.

Only the two of you know what happened in that chamber in the minutes that followed.

[starmapz]

THREE'S A CROWD

𓉸 toji fushiguro x shiu kong x f!reader

𓉸 kinktober smut oneshot

❝ you've been working with shiu and toji long enough to know that they both have eyes for you and after a particularly bloody and frustrating mission, you give in to their teasing for the first time. you know two things for sure. shiu needs a bigger car, and it won't be the last time you give in. ❞

𓉸 warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. threesome. spit roasting. marking. biting. slight voyeurism. rough car sex. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). manhandling. fingering. mild size kink. throat fucking. nipple play (f! receiving). mild praise. mild degradation. mild dacryphilia. mild choking. pet names (doll, girl, pretty, baby, sweetheart). use of cigarettes. toji's dirty talk is a warning in itself.

𓉸 words ; 3.9k.

masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist

Seeing Shiu’s car is a goddamn relief. Blood drips from your cheek to your sleeve and you can feel the crimson that coats your gloves and pants seeping through the material. Sure, the blood doesn’t phase you anymore, but it doesn’t make soaked clothing any more comfortable.

Toji rolls down the passenger window as you approach in Shiu’s largest car, the one he usually uses for kidnappings and hostages and the sight of Toji likely means that’s just what they’ve returned from.

“Shiu, I swear to god if there’s a person in the trunk on top of my clean clothes, I’ll lose it,” you grumble, leaning forward to glance into the back. At least there’s no one tied up in the back.

“Don’t worry, doll. He was in the back and the job’s done,” Shiu’s words are slightly muffled as he lights his cigarette.

Letting out a sigh, you nod. “Pop the trunk?”

A puff of smoke leaves Shiu’s lips as he leans down to flick the lock for the trunk of the car. It opens with a thud, revealing your duffle bag with a fresh change of clothes. You had requested Shiu pick you up in a fairly remote location, shrouded by trees on every side to allow you some privacy to change rather than painting the inside of his car crimson.

If Toji were a better man, he would keep his eyes on the shroud of trees ahead. Alas, that’s not the case as Toji’s eyes stray to the side view mirror as he shamelessly watches as you pull your black compression shirt up over your head. He shuffles in his seat, attempting to adjust his cock as it hardens at the sight of your cleavage bouncing in your bra.

You pull your gloves off and let your hair down and if Toji didn’t know you were an assassin, he might think you’re an angel. You wipe some blood from your hair and forehead with the old shirt before pulling on a new black low-cut top. Sliding out of your pants, you slip into a pair of gray sweatpants before slamming the trunk and groaning as you finally sit down in the back seat.

“How was the job?” Toji asks, clearing his throat as he brings a foot up onto the seat to hide his… problem.

“How many guards does one person need?” You groan, rolling your eyes as you slouch back into the leather. “It was such a pain, I didn’t think it would take so long.”

“Mm,” Toji hums a response, unable to keep his thoughts straight. “Stressed?” He asks, shooting a glance at Shiu. He barely manages to contain his scoff when he catches the strained look on his handler’s face as the man keeps his eyes set dead ahead. Oh he’s as bricked up as Toji is right now and it doesn’t do the assassin any favors as his cock jumps at the lewd thoughts running through his mind.

“You have no idea,” you grumble, throwing your head back as you stare at the car’s roof.

Toji takes a pause before deciding to get a bit brazen, wondering if Shiu’s noticed he’s not alone. “Y’know,” Toji begins, the smirk on his lips audible in his voice, “I have an idea that could help with that.”

Catching the obvious innuendo held within Toji’s tone, Shiu finally shoots him a glance. It’s hard not to notice the tent in Toji’s pants even with his leg up on the seat in an attempt to block it. The handler takes a long drag of his cigarette, equally unable to stop his cock from growing harder in his slacks just as he was beginning to get it under control.

Toji shuffles to get a better look at you in the back seat as the gears in your mind turn. Shiu is close behind, moving his head more subtly to stare at you in his peripherals. You’re not oblivious to the deeper meaning behind Toji’s words and you can’t deny that they’re both attractive. Both men have also made their attraction to you fairly obvious over the past few months of working with them. In fact, it’s hardly a debate in your mind whether you want to have sex with them. The real question is whether the car can handle both of them. Or if you can.

“Care to enlighten me?” You play along with Toji’s words, a sly smirk donning your lips.

The assassin grins, eyes darkening as his pupils blow with lust. “Y’know, you gave Shiu and I a bit of a show back there, n’ we both seem to be havin’ a bit of a problem.”

Your brow raises as you fight the urge to call them out for watching you, but you bite your tongue given that you were equally guilty in this scenario, having purposefully made a show out of changing for both men. Had you truly wanted to, you could have absolutely stood closer to the trunk to change but you made sure you were in view of the sideview mirrors, just as you know Toji has done in the past.

“I’m thinkin’ we could help with that stress, n’ you could help with our problems,” Toji shrugs like it’s all a simple exchange.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Shiu. You gonna help with all my stress?” You purr, watching as he stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray sitting in the center of the car with a smirk.

He’s out of the car in a second, back door open as he slides into the back seat with you. His lips eagerly collide with yours just as you see Toji slide between the gap in the front seats with a grunt of effort. Though you can’t see him, you can hear him shuffling around, knocking both you and Shiu in his effort to slip into the back seat with you.

Shiu pulls back, ready to spout irritated words at Toji, but a single tug on his tie from your eager fingers pulls him back down to you. He gives in immediately, shoulders relaxing as your fingers rake through the short hair at the base of his scalp.

You gasp into the kiss as Toji’s large hand grips your thigh, a row of sloppy kisses planted along the column of your neck. His scar brushes against your skin as he focuses his attention at the base of your neck. Shiu swallows your whimper when Toji begins to suck on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

Shiu doesn’t break the kiss as he easily shuffles out of his suit jacket. The clanking of a belt cuts through the lewd sounds painting the air as he tosses that into the front as well.

“Such a dirty little thing, aren’t ya?” Toji hums, groping your breast with one hand as he covertly slips you onto his lap. His hardened length tents his pants and rubs against the swell of your ass as he not-so-subtly ruts his hips against you.

With each roll of Toji’s hips and sloppy kiss left on your neck, you shuffle and whine into Shiu’s mouth. The handler sighs, pulling back to shoot Toji a look. “Fushiguro, stop moving her around so much, I’m practically up against the seat.”

Toji clicks his tongue. “Not my problem,” he gruffs.

“It will be when you’re the one shoved up against the seat.”

“Boys, there’s enough of me to go around. You can both have your turn,” you purr, squeezing Toji’s thigh as you press a chaste kiss to Shiu’s lips. It seems to satisfy them both as Toji’s hands grip your hips while he continues to grind against you while Shiu loosens his tie and discards his shirt.

As Shiu undresses, Toji uses his thumb and forefinger to turn your chin to him, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss. By comparison to Shiu, Toji’s lips are rough and he moves against you with fervor as though he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment. He commands you with his tongue rather than moving with you. Toji wants control.

With your attention on Toji, Shiu’s hands wander over your thighs before sliding along the band of your sweatpants as he begins to work them down your legs, lifting you briefly off of Toji’s lap. Your attention is pulled to the handler as you let out a surprised yelp at being lifted so suddenly, but Toji’s having none of that as he tightens his grip on your chin and pulls you back to him.

“Ah-ah,” Toji tuts, squeezing your cheeks with his forefinger and thumb. “Eyes on me, girl.” He stares at your puckered lips, running his thumb over the lower one as you stare into his emerald eyes, obediently keeping your attention on him. Shiu pushes your thighs open, resting them on either side of Toji’s knees beneath you. He begins to kiss up your inner thighs, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You bite back a moan but Toji grins as your eyes glaze over with need, growing more lidded by the second. “You wet for Shiu already, pretty lil’ thing?” Toji drawls, a puff of air leaving his nose in a dry laugh when all you can manage is a moan.

“Words, doll,” Shiu instructs, equally as pushy as Toji even as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

“Y-Yes,” you manage, lips parting as Shiu licks a long stripe up your clothed pussy.

The handler smirks, fingers digging into your skin as his tongue swipes over his lower lip. “She’s fucking soaked for us, Fushiguro.”

Toji finally lets your chin go, your head falling back onto his shoulder as he moves his attention to your breasts. Large, rough, hands knead the plush of your breasts as Shiu hooks two fingers beneath the fabric of your panties and moves it aside.

You wouldn’t know with your head thrown back on Toji’s shoulder but they exchange a look as Toji flicks your nipple and Shiu gives your clit a couple of kitten licks at the same time. A shrill gasp leaves your lips followed by a whimper as you arch your back against Toji at the sudden sensation. The assassin’s cock twitches against your ass as he hums in your ear, pleased with your moans.

Shiu occupies himself with your pleasure as he plunges his tongue into your core, lidded mahogany eyes focused on your reactions as he flicks the muscle within your gummy walls in search of what sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your lips are parted as you lean your full weight back against Toji, his hands continuing to pinch, flick and tug on your nipples. Both men’s actions send pleasure straight to your throbbing pussy but it’s when Shiu withdraws and slides his middle finger deep within your walls that you jolt and your hands go out in search of something to grab onto.

“Easy, girl,” Toji chuckles at your reaction, rutting his hips against your ass as your sudden movement teases his pulsing cock with friction. His lips attach to your neck as he sucks and bites at the tender skin, leaving behind marks that you know will turn purple in a matter of moments.

Clutching onto Toji’s thick forearm and the seat in front of you, you whimper as Shiu curls his finger within you. It’s only a matter of moments before he’s found your sweet spot and begins to rhythmically bully your walls.

“Shit, doll, you’ve got a pretty moan,” Shiu groans as he begins to palm his hardened erection through his boxers. The shuffling of fabric tells you that endeavor doesn't last long as he pulls his cock from his slacks to slowly pump himself as he reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. He moans against your cunt, the vibrations sending a chill straight up your spine as you arch your back for him.

“You close already?” Toji teases as he continues to palm your breasts with one hand, moving the other to hold your hips in place as you begin to squirm on his lap. The movement of your hips is driving him crazy, but he resists the urge to flip you and bully his cock into you right then and there out of fear of breaking you.

“Ah- f-faster-!” you whimper, legs quivering on either side of Toji’s knees as you attempt to fasten them around Shiu’s head. The handler chuckles once more, sliding a second finger easily past your folds and adding to the intense pleasure coiling in your abdomen. Your nails dig hard into the leather of Shiu’s front seat and Toji’s forearm as the digits within your walls pick up their pace, moving faster and harder.

“Cum on your handler’s face f’r me,” Toji coaxes in your ear, his voice low and sultry in tone, sending you crashing into your climax like a ton of bricks.

“Shiu-! Shit- haah-” you babble and moan as your back arches and your walls pulse around his digits. Toji holds you firmly in place with one hand as Shiu doesn’t relent, only slowing his movements to draw wave after wave of your orgasm out of you. When you slump back against Toji with a pant, Shiu finally withdraws his fingers, getting to a hunched standing position. He leans over you, gripping your chin as he slides his slick-covered fingers between your lips.

“Good girl,” Shiu praises, wiping your arousal from his chin with the back of his other hand. You suck his fingers, the taste of your climax sending heat between your thighs once more. You subconsciously attempt to close your legs again, catching Toji’s attention.

“Still horny after that, eh?”

“Don’t be a tease, Toj’,” you groan breathlessly.

“Dunno, think you might deserve it after the show you gave us earlier,” Shiu comments as he lights a cigarette.

“Open a window, asshole,” Toji growls with a huff. Shiu shrugs, a puff of smoke leaving his lips as he cracks the window behind him.

Your chest still heaves, completely blissed out as Toji easily lifts you from his lap and sets you down on all fours on the back seat. Your legs are still trembling from your orgasm as you struggle to hold yourself upright on shaky limbs.

“Still sensitive, doll?” Shiu teases as he blows a puff of smoke out the window and gives you a moment to come down from your high. You nod as you look up at him before your attention is drawn to his cock. You blink a few times as you take in Shiu’s size. His shaft is of fairly average girth, but he’s long. You inadvertently bite your lip, catching the handler’s eye. “See something you like?” He grins, holding his cigarette off to the side as smoke cascades up to the roof and out the window.

“‘M thinking we should have done this a while ago,” you purr, aiming to sit down on your knees in an attempt to tease the man, but you’re immediately pulled back up into your original position. You yelp in surprise, turning your attention to Toji, who’s now mostly undressed with his shirt tossed aside and pants pulled down enough that you can see the tent in his boxers.

“Nah, stay on your hands and knees,” he chides, getting on his knees behind you, although he’s forced to bend over your back to avoid hitting his head on the car’s roof. His breath is warm on your back as you feel him pull his length from his black boxers. The weight of his cock on your ass makes you swallow as you turn your head to catch a glimpse of the bulky man behind you.

Toji is grinning as he slowly pumps his length, eyes lidded as he watches the way you take in just how thick and long he is. A pulsing vein runs up the side of his length up to his swollen tip, dripping with pre-cum that damn near makes your mouth water.

“As much as I like havin’ you ogle me, I wanna see that pretty lil’ mouth of yours wrapped around a cock while I rail ya from behind.” Toji’s words are filthy as he lines himself up with your sopping lips.

Shiu’s fingers grab your chin as he guides you back to him. He twitches at the mere sight of you, a puff of smoke leaving him as he pushes his tip between your lips.

“Shiiit, doll,” Shiu groans as you obediently hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue over his swollen head. He leans his knee on the seat to support his weight as he slowly pushes himself into you while Toji ruts his length through your folds, covering it in the slick that still drips from your previous orgasm.

“D’ya think Shiu prepared you well enough f’r me?” Toji teases, and you half expect him to push in right then and there, but it’s his long and thick finger that slips easily into your cunt.

“T-To-!” You cry out around Shiu’s cock, but you don’t manage to finish the assassin’s name when Shiu pushes to the back of your throat, holding you in place by your chin and stifling your cry.

“Hah- Fuck.” A puff of smoke leaves his lips as he moans and throws his head back. “Bein’ such a good girl for me,” he groans, leaning over to stub out the last of his cigarette as he gives you his full attention.

He doesn’t move for a moment, his length pressed to the back of your throat restricting your breathing as tears form in the corners of your eyes.

“Too much, pretty girl?” Shiu taunts, lidded eyes admiring the look of your mouth stuffed full of him. He pulls back just enough to let you breathe and barely mutter out a no. “Tch.” Shiu smirks, bringing a finger to your cheek to wipe the first tear that falls.

Behind you, Toji slips a second finger into your cunt, curling his fingers so expertly it sends a spark of electricity up your spine and heat straight to your core. You moan around Shiu, grinding your hips back against Toji as he teases your clit with the rough pad of his thumb, but just as quickly as he begins to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, he pulls his digits out.

Your muffled whine barely hits the air before Toji sinks his tip in and forces a gasp from deep in your throat. You collapse forward onto your forearms as pain and pleasure mix and coil in your abdomen, forcing Shiu to lower himself with you, though he doesn’t mind now that his head isn’t hitting the ceiling.

Why the fuck did you decide to do this in the car?

Leaning over you, Toji moves his hips as he feeds you his length inch by inch, slowly so as not to split you in half.

“Shit, y’re tight,” he groans, one arm on the back of the seat while his other hand rests by your elbow. When Toji bottoms out, he waits for a moment as he allows you to adjust to just how full you are with his cock. Shiu doesn’t move either as both men give you a chance to take a breath before they ravage you with need. Your handler’s length twitches when you swipe your tongue over the tip teasingly as the pain in your stomach dissolves into nothing but pleasure.

“Hah, you being a tease right now, doll?” Shiu breathes out as he holds your head in place and pushes his cock deep into your throat, moving rhythmically as he fucks into you relentlessly. Toji takes that as his sign to move as well, his cock jerking as he watches you choke on Shiu’s cock.

The assassin rams into you, his length brushing your sweet spot with every thrust. Both men use you so meanly that you’re being shoved back onto each cock in both directions as though they’re competing with one another.

“Mmf-!” You barely manage to choke out a cry as your climax approaches quickly.

“Y’like being used like that, baby?” Toji mutters from above your shoulder. “Y’like bein’ a little toy f’r us?” He pulls out fully before ramming his full length deep into your cunt and pulling a cry from you again as Shiu continues to bully the back of your throat. “Clampin’ down on me, y’re close already, aren’t ya?”

You can barely manage a whimper when your high hits hard and fast, your stomach knotting and releasing in a wave of pure bliss. You see stars as neither man relents, chasing their own orgasms without giving you a break as you gush around Toji’s girthy shaft.

“Gonna make me cum with that mouth of yours,” Shiu moans, his cock jerking and twitching as your throat contracts around him with each whimper and whine that you release. He follows shortly after you, his release painting the back of your throat white as you swallow every drop, your tongue swiping his sensitive tip and pulling a moan from him as he jerks and slumps back into the seat with an arm over the back of the seat and one over the ledge of the window.

Toji becomes surprisingly quiet and although he doesn’t say much, his movements grow sloppy and imprecise and it’s barely a moment before his arousal fills you up and seeps out around his base, leaving a ring of white at the base of his cock as he pulls out.

He gives himself a couple of last pumps as he licks your back once before sitting back on the seat, mirroring Shiu’s actions.

At last, you collapse forward, curled into the seat as you pant to catch your breath. Your tear-filled eyes are blurred with pleasure as you come down from the high of being with Toji and Shiu.

Shiu rakes a hand through your hair so tenderly you almost wouldn’t know he’d just pounded your throat raw barely a minute ago. “How are you feeling?” He asks, tilting your head subtly to get your honest reaction.

You shoot him a smile. “Might be the best dick I’ve gotten in my life.”

Both men chuckle. “Good to hear,” Shiu replies, reaching forward for another cigarette. As he lights it and smoke begins to curl from the ashen tip, he turns his head to blow smoke out the window. “I think I owe you both a night at a hotel,” he comments.

“For the threesome or the job?” Toji chuckles.

“For the job, dumbass.”

You let out an exhausted, breathy laugh as you force yourself to sit up. Shiu grabs his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, his cigarette balanced between his lips.

“You know, you could lie and say it was the threesome and make us feel good,” you tease.

“I think I made you feel plenty good, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “Dunno. Maybe you could show me what you mean at this hotel you’re talking about?”

Toji scoffs, a grin on his scarred lips. “Such a greedy lil’ thing. Already lookin’ for round two?”

You put your hands up defensively. “What can I say?” You smirk, falling back into the seat to catch your breath. “Oh, and Shiu? You need a bigger car.”

masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist

𓉸 a/n ; ugh i hoped this would come out way earlier but ended up getting sick among other things. finally starting to feel better though so i hope you enjoyed! as always likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated ♡

𓉸 taglist ; currently open. please comment here or on the masterlist to be tagged in the last of my kinktober work ♡

@fushitoru @tojis-ball-sack @rathreads @sukunadckrider @nxcxllxsevens

@r0ckst4rjk

[timmydraker]

CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.