#This one hit a little close but here we are

[robo-writing]

Hello!! I came from your single mom one shot and I am in love with how you write Logan. Could we have a worst!Logan and wife!reader at a bar and he’s getting hit on relentlessly by a girl who won’t take the hint even though he has stated that he is happily married MULTIPLE TIMES and then reader comes in and rips the girl a new asshole and Logan likes it a little too much and practically drags her home to fuck because of how hot he got from her getting angry and defending him?

How very Beth Dutton of you op! The girl that stands in front of him flashes him a smile—pearly whites, black hair that reaches down to her back, topped off with a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans that draw the eye of everyone behind the bar—everyone except him that is.

He knows what she wants from him before she can utter a single word, eyes shamelessly moving across his body with not a hint of subtlety. A few years earlier and it might've worked, she's cute enough. A vixen, all doe-eyed and determined, if he was a younger man she might've been his type. But that's all in the past; she's cute, Logan thinks to himself, but she's not his wife. His eyes don't move from where you're standing at the bar, barely giving the girl more than a passing glance as she speaks. "Hey there, mind if I keep you company?" He almost rolls his eyes, but he keeps himself in check in hopes that he can resolve this without any trouble.

"I do unfortunately," he says, flashing the pretty gold band around his finger as he takes another swig of his beer. His fingers play with the ring around his finger, smiling to himself like a love-struck fool when he remembers what it symbolizes. He'd hope that would be the end of it, but unfortunately for him, it is.

The gal's either too drunk or too pig-headed to get the hint, so instead of backing away she leans in real close, too damn close—close enough that it starts to draw your attention from across the bar.

Suddenly your interest isn't in your drink anymore, and before you can walk closer Logan puts his hands up, mouths out lemme handle this, before speaking up again. "Listen, I'm a taken man." He says with a sigh, giving her his full attention. It doesn't deter her in the slightest, a coy smile tugging on the ends of her lips. "That's a shame. Your wife know you're here?" "She does," he nods with a smile, "and she's right over there." He points right to you, where you raise your glass with a thin-lipped smile, sarcasm evident in your body language. He can tell you're in a good mood tonight because you haven't dragged the girl by the hair yet, and he'd rather not ruin the night because she can't take a hint. Surely, she'll leave—except she doesn't. No, she does the exact opposite; she looks back and sees you, laser-focused on the two of them, and with all the audacity in the world, she fucking smiles back. You almost shatter the damn glass in your hand. "Oh, that's alright," she whispers with a wink. "Lemme go talk to her." His eyebrow damn near reaches his hairline, looking at the young girl as if she's truly lost her damn mind. Normally he wouldn't give a damn if someone wants to catch their death, but he takes pity on her for the sole reason that he really doesn't want to get kicked out. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Don't worry," she says, and to put the icing on the cake she puts her hand on his chest, loops her fingers around his dog tags and tugs him down. "I can handle myself." With that one gesture he knows she's just sealed her fate. No, you can't, he wants to say, but she's already making her way across the bar where you stand, looking like hell itself. You know he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, but it doesn't matter—someone else touched what's yours, so you have to remind Logan where home is. He's not really sure if he should feel happy that his girl is so protective of him, or sad that he's about to get kicked out of his favorite bar. Logan sighs and puts his beer down, reaching into his pocket and dialing 9-1-1 just as the telltale sound of glass shattering echoes across the bar. It really is a shame—he liked this bar too. The only good thing that comes from tonight—minus the visual of you with blood across your face—is the jaw-dropping sex that ensues the moment the two of you get home, remnants of rage seeping through every touch as you drag him upstairs by the collar. He's more than happy to let you take the lead, content in being your personal scapegoat if it means he gets to see you bounce on his lap like a woman possessed.

Lips intertwined, clothes askew and hair tousled. The taste of iron—a split lip, he remembers—then moans into your mouth when he remembers how you got it. Is it wrong to say you look your most beautiful when you're mad? He doesn't give a shit if it is, especially if his punishment is your pussy gripping him like a vice. He likes you like this—jealous, protective—it's what drew him to you in the first place, how you bite down on what's your and refuse to let go. From the moment you saw him you staked your claim and he was more than happy to follow you for the ride. "You like it when she touched you?" You mutter, lips pressed against his as you ride him for all your worth. Sweat beads off his brow, eyes closed in bliss, he nods his head no but it's not enough—you want to hear him say it. You teeth dig into the skin of his shoulder, a delicious groan erupting from him as you repeat yourself. "Answer me Lo, did you fucking like it?" "No, no—" he gasps, hands wandering across your body. "Wasn't even looking at her, swear to god—" "And who were you looking at?" you ask, and the answer makes your walls flutter across his cock. He lets you hear him loud and clear, giving you a lop-sided grin as he thrusts up into you.

"You, sweetheart, only you." "Louder," you moan, scratching at the expanse of his back, encouraging him. He repeats himself, fucking into your gushing cunt, his words bringing you to a new high with every thrust. His words are long, drawn out, caught in his throat as he struggles between speaking and catching his breath. "Only got eyes for you baby—fuckin' christ—" He speaks long after you've stopped, so engrossed in pleasure you can barely hear anything beyond your ringing ears and the slap of your ass against his thighs. "All yours baby, all fuckin' yours."

[sturniozo]

listen, i’m a WHORE for face riding🙏 so like could you possibly make something where like ur riding (matt or chris)’s face🙏 that’s it!! go wild!

Tastes So Sweet

(Chris Sturniolo x Reader Smut)

“Ow, ow!” I pull back. “Chris that hurt.”

“Sorry babe.” Chris smiles sheepishly and runs his hand through his hair. “I got a little carried away.”

My fingers graze over my neck, where Chris had left a bite mark. “I have work in the morning, I can’t go in with a hickey.”

Chris shrugs. “So what, like you haven’t before.”

I narrow my eyes at Chris. “If I get caught like that again at work, it’s a write up.”

Chris scoffs and leans back against the headboard. “I hope you get fired. You don’t need to be working that dead end waitress job. I can support us.”

I roll my eyes before curling up to Chris’s side. He wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “I can leave a lot of marks on you, you know.” He smirks as he looks down at me.

I look up to meet his gaze. “I know you can, but I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Chris groans. “Why? So that loser, Korey, can hit on you all day without realizing you have a boyfriend?”

“Korey knows I have a boyfriend.”

“Ah, but you admit he hits on you all day.” Chris says in a cocky tone.

I sigh. “He doesn’t. And he’s my superior, he’s the one who would write me up for that.”

Chris closes his eyes and shakes his head, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I hate that guy.” He mumbles.

“You don’t have to deal with him all day.” I giggle as I lean my head in Chris’s chest.

“I have to deal with him hitting on you all day every day.”

I sigh. “Can we just drop this?”

Chris shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”

I snuggle closer into his chest. He huffs and moves his arm down my waist. “As much as i want to stay here forever and just cuddle with you all day-“

Chris cuts me off. “I don’t want to just cuddle, if you know what i mean.” He says with a chuckle.

I smack his chest. “As I was saying, I can’t. I have to go to work, I can’t get fired.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times.” Chris situates himself better to sit up straight as I sit up next to him, my arm still around him although he had removed his arm from my waist. “I can support us both and more, you don’t need that job.”

I sigh. “Chris, you know I’d feel guilty if i let you just pay for everything. I need a job, at least part time, so I don’t feel so useless all the time.”

“Hey.” Chris cups my face in his hands. “You are not useless.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I don’t mind you having a job either, I get it. I just hate you having that job.” He leans back against the headboard.

“I don’t want to fight right now.” I mumble.

“We aren’t going to fight.” Chris wraps his arm around me and pulls me in close to him. He kisses the top of my head and rubs my arm gently.

I close my eyes and nuzzle my head against Chris’s chest. “I love you.” I murmur into his chest.

Chris smiles into my hair. “I love you too.”

I breathe in this moment and smile. This perfect moment with my perfect boyfriend. I love moments like these. Moments where everything else just fades away. Everything like the almost-argument we could have had just fades away. Gone.

“Hey,” Chris murmurs against the top of my head. “You should call in.”

I groan. “Not this again-“

“No, no, no-“ He kisses my head again. “I was thinking of you calling in because you won’t be able to walk through the front door.”

I lift my head and face Chris’s smirk. “Are you being serious?” I ask.

Chris nods. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to get up to go to work.”

I laugh. “Okay.” I sit up straight and straddle his waist. “But I have a challenge for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris says as his eyes flicker up and down my body. “And what is it?”

“You have to fuck me until I can’t walk.” I lean in close, my lips ghosting over his. “But only using your tongue.”

Chris let’s put a hot, breathy laugh. “You’re in for it then.” He says before smashing his lips against mine.

I slip my hands under his shirt and begin to roam his torso, my fingers touching his skin lightly. I pull away from the kiss to slip my shirt off over my head. I toss it across the room, and before it hits the ground Chris’s hands cup my breasts.

I smash my lips back against his and grind my hips on him. One hand tangles into his hair while the other finds its way back under his shirt, feeling up his torso once again.

Chris takes off his shirt and tosses it by mine. His hands find my back as in one swift movement, he moves us so I’m on my back, my head at the foot of the bed, and his head is between my legs. He slips off my panties from under my skirt and throws them on the floor. He moves my legs over his shoulders as his head dips under my skirt and begins to lick my core.

The movements of his tongue are swift and soft. Something I’ve felt from him a million times before.

“Just your tongue baby, nothing else.” I remind him.

Chris only grunts in response as I recognize a familiar feeling. Him licking his name into my pussy.

C. A jolt slides through my body at the curve.

H. The slide across my hole sends shudders down my spine.

R. He took his sweet time with this one.

I. That line. That straight line. I buck my hips into his lips causing him to chuckle and push my hips back down.

S. The curving zig zag causes me to moan out loudly.

T. The top stride pressing my clit and making me moan out louder.

O. A perfect circle around my hole.

P. I won’t last to the end. I start panting and gripping the sheets.

H. Again, the line sliding right over my hole. Just go in my already!

E. I just couldn’t last. My legs start shaking and my hips start gyrating. I won’t make it until-

R. The loop wrapping around my hole and his tongue sliding over my clit one last time before I scream out, cumming on his tongue.

“Oh god!” I scream out.

Chris raises his head from under my skirt. “I’m not done.” He says breathlessly.

Chris throws the pillow across the room and lays down on the bed, motioning me to sit on his face.

“Chris-“

“Sit on my face right now.” He says.

A blush creeps over my cheeks and I oblige. I get to my knees and crawl over to him. I turn around, positioning myself above his face. I move my skirt to cover his head completely.

His hands hold my hips down, pressing my core right against his lips. His tongue slips up and down, rolling over my clit over and over in quick movements. His tongue dips into my hole, rolling like a wave inside of me. All while his bottom lip rubs over my clit.

“Chris!” I call out.

The familiar knot in my stomach unravels once again. Chris slurps up my juices as I ride out my high, while also riding his face. Chris doesn’t stop. He continues with his relentless railing of his tongue in my core.

Strides licking up and down, zig zagging left and right, flicking my clit at the end. The same movement over and over, done a second after it started. The feeling is unreal.

Another knot in my stomach. Another shaking sensation throughout my whole body. I release again on his lips.

“Chris, no more-“ I pant out as he continues. “Chris, I can’t-“

“Just one more baby.” He says breathlessly under me. “You can do it for me.”

Chris’s tongue rolls over my clit like a tidal wave. Over and over, tickling my nerves in the best possible way. It’s not even a minute before I release one last time.

“Chris!” I yell out. My entire body shakes and gives out, as I collapse to the side of Chris.

He sits up, positioning me in a more comfortable place, before laying next to me and wrapping his arms around me.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles as he kisses my forehead.

I nod in response, to out of breath to speak. Chris smiles and lets out a breath of relief.

“Are you gonna call into work?” He asks.

I nod again, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Good.” Chris smiles and kissing my forehead again. “God. You taste so sweet.”

TAGLIST:

@bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl1 @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chriss @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07

[chancloud8]

Teach Me

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Tags: A little bit of angst, Fluff, Kissing, OT8

Summary: After a failed date you find comfort with your best friend. He even offers to teach you how to kiss. Crazy, right?

*****************************

'Channie?' you call out when you step into the recording studio.

It was already close to midnight, but you know for a fact that your best friend is still here. He always stays late to work on his songs, either alone or sometimes with Jisung or Changbin.

'In here!' Chan's familiar voice calls back and relief floods your body at the sound of it.

You wipe your cheeks one last time with the back of your hands and take a deep breath before forcing yourself to smile.

'Bestie incoming,' you sing song as you walk the narrow hallway towards the room where his voice came from.

As soon as you walk through the door you freeze.

It wasn't just Chan inside. All the other members of his band are scattered across the couch and floor. Multiple take-out boxes and containers cover the small table and the smell of pizza and chinese food hits your nose.

Eight pairs of eyes are staring at you and it takes a few seconds before any of them react. Chan is the first one to jump up, his brows are furrowed as he takes in the state you're in.

You know you must look like a mess. Your hair is loose and wild from how you've kept running your hand through it, you know your make-up is smeared and your eyes are red from crying. You keep the smile on your face, hoping to fool your friends, but the moment he takes a step forward you know you haven't.

'You cried. What happened?' Chan asks when he's in front of you, softly grabbing your chin between his fingers so you have to look at him.

'Who do we need to hurt?' Changbin yells as he also jumps up from the couch to get closer to you as well.

You flinch at his loud voice and Chan turns his head to glare at his friend.

'No one, Binnie. I'm fine,' you say, but you know your smile is faltering.

'You're not,' Felix's deep voice says from behind Chan. You hadn't even noticed him getting up too. 'Who did this?'

You shake your head at him. 'It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

Telling Chan what happened was one thing, but telling all of them?

Nope.

You couldn't do it. It would be too mortifying.

'Come sit with us,' Chan says, letting go of your chin so he can grab your hand and lead you towards the couch where Jeongin, Seungmin and Jisung quickly make room for you.

As soon as you sit down, Seungmin shrugs off his jacket and hangs it around your naked shoulders. You shiver as the fabric touches your skin, it's warm and soft and you hadn't realized how cold you were.

'Where's your jacket?' Chan asks, as if he only just noticed you weren't wearing any while it's no longer hot outside at night.

The guys are all quiet, waiting for you to answer the question.

'I- uhm,' you swallow. 'I forgot it.'

'You forgot your jacket?' Chan narrows his eyes, seeing straight through your bullshit. 'You never go anywhere without--'

'I forgot! I was in a hurry to get away, okay,' you interrupt him, tears welling up in your eyes again as you think of the horrifying moment.

As one all of the guys lean forward, frowns adorn their faces.

'Get away from who?' Chan and Changbin growl practically at the same time.

'Y/N,' Felix gets up from his seat 'Are you hurt?'

'No, no,' you hurry to say. 'I'm okay, I promise. I'm just--' You groan and bury your face in your hands so you don't have to look at their faces. 'I'm extremely embarrassed and maybe a bit upset, but I'm fine.'

When they stay silent, you sigh and lift your head to look them all in the eye.

'I'm fine.'

They don't seem convinced and you can't really blame them.

'Look, I didn't expect you all to be here or I wouldn't have come. I'll just go home, bury myself in blankets and sleep,' you say, starting to get up.

Seungmin grabs your arm and pulls you back on the couch.

'No way we're letting you go when you're feeling down. You shouldn't be alone,' he says and the other guys all nod in agreement.

'And if you want to talk to Channie alone, we can leave you alone for a bit,' Jeongin offers, giving you an encouraging smile.

Your heart swells with how thoughtful they all are and you instantly feel a little better. You always knew they were good guys, but after tonight it was nice to get a reminder that thoughtful and kind guys still exist.

'But if you want you can talk to us too, we won't judge you, I promise,' Lee Know says from his spot on the floor.

'Or if you just want to eat or help us out with making music, that's fine too,' Hyunjin adds with a smile.

'We can also still beat up whoever made you cry,' Jisung swings his fist around in the air.

You can't help but tear up again.

'Y/N?' Chan moves over to you again and kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. 'You're not alone, you're okay and we're all here for you.'

That does it.

A sob escapes your mouth and you throw your arms around his neck, not caring about the guys seeing you cry anymore.

Chan immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his body. Like a koala you wrap yourself around him and you bury your face in his neck, letting his familiar scent calm you down.

'It's okay, you're okay,' Chan continues to whisper as he strokes your back. 'I'm here.'

It takes a few minutes for you to calm down, but when you do, you feel a lot better. You allow yourself a few more moments, keeping your head in the crook of Chan's neck as you slowly get a grip of yourself again.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper.

'What for?' Chan whispers back.

You know that everyone can probably still hear you, but it still feels like it's just Chan and you. In some way the guys are a part of Chan anyways.

'For crying and for ruining your night.'

Chan's hands move up to your arms and he gently pushes you away from his chest so he can look at you.

'You could never ruin my night, Y/N, and as for the crying, isn't that what a best friend is for?'

Your lips curl up in a watery smile and you bring your hand up to pat his cheek.

'My sweet Channie.'

He chuckles and squeezes your arms. 'That's me. Now will you please tell your sweet Channie what happened tonight?'

Your smile disappears and immediately so does Chan's.

'What happened?' he repeats, his eyes dark.

'I just went on a shitty date,' you finally confess. 'He was very nice at first, but-'

'I swear if he hurt you,' Chan growls and from the corner of your eyes you see two other members get up as well.

'Stop being so macho,' you roll your eyes. 'I appreciate your concern babe, but I'm okay and he didn't hurt me.'

Chan narrows his eyes at you and cocks his head. 'Then what did he do, Y/N?'

'Did he force you to do anything you didn't want?' Changbin asks, sitting down next to you and Chan.

You wait a second too long with denying it and both men tense up.

'No, no! It's not like that,' you hurry to say. 'He just-' You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. 'He laughed at me.'

Chan blinks at you and so does Changbin.

'What for?' Lee Know pipes up from behind you.

'Did he just laugh or did he say stuff as well?' Hyunjin asks from the couch.

You sigh and bite your lip, debating whether or not to just blurt it out. It all seemed so silly now.

'Y/N?' Chan asks again.

'He kissed me and I didn't expect it,' you say, closing your eyes in mortification. 'I froze at first and when he-' you shiver and Chan balls his hands up in fists.

'He what?' Felix asks softly.

'God this is so embarrassing you guys, you're going to laugh at me too,' you groan, letting your head fall against Chan's chest again.

'We won't,' Jeongin promises and the others hum in agreement.

'I freaked out,' you mumble. 'And when he put his tongue in my mouth, I may have gagged and started hyperventilating.'

The guys are quiet around you and for a moment you wonder if they heard you. Just as you lift your head from Chan's chest, they all start to talk at once. They don't laugh. All their faces are serious as they try to talk over each other. All except Chan.

'What?' you whisper at him when his eyes stay locked with yours.

‘I had no idea you’ve never been kissed before,’ he says, his eyes falling to your lips for a millisecond. ‘And I’m sorry your first experience with it was awful.’

You shrug and snort when a thought enters your mind. ‘If only you could teach me how to properly kiss so I don’t freak out next time,’ you joke.

Everyone falls quiet and Chan’s eyes darken before he looks down at your lips again. His tongue comes out to moisten his lips and your heart skips a bit at the sight. Shit, he had no right to look at you like that.

‘I’m only joking,’ you choke out, breaking the silence and shifting awkwardly in Chan’s lap.

Chan’s hands fall down to your hips and he holds you still.

‘I could, you know,’ he says then. ‘Teach you.’

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. All you can do is stare at him with big eyes, both in shock and intrigued. Was he really serious? Would he teach you? Wouldn’t that be weird? Wouldn’t that ruin your friendship?

‘Or any of us could,’ Changbin pipes up, breaking your thoughts. ‘Or if you need some practise after Chan teaches you-’

‘Shut up, Bin,’ Chan interrupts his friend, his hands tightening around your hips.

‘Hey, don’t get all alpha on Y/N now Channie,’ Jisung teases.

You laugh and look around at the guys, no longer feeling awkward. They really are the nicest people you know.

‘Thank you,’ you smile at them. ‘I feel much better already.’

A chorus of cheers makes you laugh and for a moment you forget the offer that still hangs in the air. That is, until Chan suddenly stands up and hauls you with him as you were still in his lap.

‘Come with me,’ he says when you stand on your own legs again.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the hallway as another chorus of cheers and whistles erupts in the room. When the door to the recording studio falls close and the sound of the guys falls away, you find yourself alone with Chan. Your heart is beating so wild in your chest that you wonder if Chan can hear it.

Is he going to kiss you? Does he really want to? What if you freak out again?

As always Chan seems to be able to read your mind and when he cups your face with his hands and locks his gaze with yours, everything else falls away. He leans his forehead against yours and his warm breath puffs against your lips.

‘Breathe,’ Chan whispers. ‘Just breathe for a moment.’

You do as he says and close your eyes as you focus on his breathing, trying to match it with yours while you try to ignore how close his lips are to yours. It doesn’t take long before you’re breathing in the same rhythm and when you open your eyes you find Chan already looking at you.

‘Now what?’ you ask, biting your lip. ‘Will you really teach me?’

Chan’s lips move up in a sweet smile and he moves his hands so that one of them is cupping the back of your neck, while the other grabs onto your chin.

‘Do you want me to?’

You should feel nervous, like you were on your date earlier, but you’re not. You feel calm. Safe. Excited.

‘Yes,’ you whisper, gripping the front of his shirt between your fingers. ‘Please.’

‘Stay still and relax, okay?’ Chan nods and then he cups your face again with his big hands. The cool metal of his rings feel nice against your hot cheeks.

Chan slowly moves his face even closer to yours and when your noses touch he stills, once again letting his breath tickle your mouth. You tremble in anticipation and tighten your fingers on the fabric of his shirt.

‘Channie,’ you breathe out, nearly panting already when he hasn’t even done anything.

Chan chuckles and closes the distance, pressing his lips against yours softly. His thumb gently caresses the skin of your cheek and you melt against him as he slowly moves his mouth over yours. You copy his movement and when he hums against your mouth in approval you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

Who knew kissing could feel so good?

After what feels like only a few seconds, Chan pulls back and you shamelessly chase his mouth with yours. A hoarse chuckle escapes Chan’s throat, but he lets you kiss him again. And again.

There’s no tongue, but at the moment you don’t feel like you neither need or want that. Not yet.

No. This is enough for now.

Chan’s lips were plump and soft and you felt like you were surrounded by his comfortable smell and touch. It felt amazing, addicting and oh so wonderful.

When you finally pulled back again to look at Chan, his pupils were dilated and his lips were red and a little swollen. He looked beautiful and you fight the urge to kiss him again.

‘Lesson one complete?’ you grin up at him.

Chan flicks your nose with his finger and grins back at you.

‘Lesson two will include tongue, think you can handle it?’

You shiver at the thought. If kissing Chan feels this good without tongue already, how would it be to really kiss him?

‘I think I can handle anything when it’s with you.'

************************************

a/n: eeeekkkk my first y/n fic. I hope you like it <3

I debated having all the guys teach her, but ended up with just Chan for now. I also might write a part 2 (; xxx

[jasvtsc]

daddy's home

at first glance, you were the epitome of innocence.

perfectly manicured nails. neatly styled hair, often with a pinky ribbon added to the mix. lips always shiny, your lipgloss being a necessity in your purse. knee-high stockings highlighting your smooth legs, paired together with some heels. and short dresses, barely hiding the soaking wet lace panties underneath.

yeah, you looked innocent.

but behind closed doors? you were a filthy needy little whore—just what ben liked to call you.

for such a small thing, your sex drive was actually insane, and it shocked him for the first time when you eagerly jumped up and down his softening dick. you were so cockdrunk he couldn’t help but find it adorable. you tried so hard to act like a perfect and innocent girl, but as soon as he was near you, you were a whiny mess, desperate to be filled.

you were like a bunny, always eager and energetic.

and honestly? he was living for it.

he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he just loved fucking you into oblivion, watching tears stream down your face as you turned into a blabbering mess.

hard day at work? he’d aggressively pound into your wet pussy, making you unable to walk for the next few days.

hughie annoyed the fuck out of him? he’d dug his fingers underneath your panties first thing after coming home, sighing in relief at the familiar feeling of your drenched walls sucking them in.

his favourite team lost the game? you were on the bed, down on your knees, ass up as he slapped it, leaving red marks from his calloused hand while fucking you.

lazy afternoon smoking some weed and simply unwinding? he’d have you cockwarming him, just sitting on his lap and looking all pretty with his fat cock buried deep inside your tight hole.

or when you simply wanted to pleasure him, getting down on your knees in front of him, his foot between your legs as you bop your head back and forth, your cheeks hollowing with every suck, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he sunk fully.

you were his drug that he couldn’t get enough. you were his perfect little girl.

and he hasn’t seen you in so long. too long.

butcher sent him on a mission on the other side of the country. he spent almost a week away from you, and even though you were religiously sending him photos he could get off to, nothing compared to the real thing of him nestled in your welcoming heat.

so as soon as he got home, he was met with your pouty lips and tears flooding your cheeks. you hugged him tightly, your arms barely able to wrap around his broad frame as you wanted to squeeze him tightly. he smirked and wrapped one hand firmly around your body, keeping you close and tight without much effort. the other hand moved to your hair, where he stroked the back of your head with his thumb, looking down at your pretty face covered in tears, pressed against his chest.

“well, well, well. look what we have here. missed me that much, hm? don’t worry, baby girl, daddy’s home,” he chuckled and patted your head.

then, he lifted you, the hand on your head now going under your dress. he rubbed your core with his fingers, feeling how wet you already were through your panties. he sighed in contentment, a cocky smirk on his face as he pressed his fingers, making the fabric stick between your folds.

“already so eager to see me. i think i should take care of ya, f’being such a good girl and missing daddy,” he hummed, carrying you to the bedroom.

not even five minutes later, you were already bent over on the bed, your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle any sounds you’d make. he held your wrists in a firm grip on your back, so you were completely at his mercy as he was sliding in and out of you, your pussy squelching. you were breathing through your nose, whimpering against the fabric in your mouth as he kept your head pressed on the pillow.

“so fuckin’ tight, all f’me,” he growled, reaching his hand between your bodies and delivering a firm slap to your clit. “too tight, though. did your little pussy already forget what daddy feels like? we can’t have that. no fuckin’ way,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder, making you cry out as he pinched your swollen bud. “yeah, just like that. cry for daddy, you filthy whore.”

he flipped you on your back and sunk in your heat again, repeatedly hitting your cervix. with a grunt, he took the panties out of your mouth, instead replacing them with his fat fingers. you almost gagged as he shoved them in, pressing on your tongue, but quickly, you swirled your tongue around the rough digits, eagerly sucking on them.

“yhym. good girl. suck while daddy fucks you,” he growled, stroking your chin with his thumb as he started moving even more aggressively with a clear intention of filling you up with his cum.

when your walls began to clamp down on his cock, he pulled his fingers, now coated with your saliva and roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. you whimpered and opened your mouth, and that was exactly what he wanted. he smiled and then spat in your mouth, one look enough for you to know that he wanted you to swallow.

and that’s what you did, seconds later squirting on his thick length, making him tumble over the edge as well. with a loud groan, he stilled and pressed deeper inside you, shooting his load into your tight channel.

“fuck, that’s it. daddy’s home,” he chuckled lowly, pulling you closer and crashing his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

oh, he missed you so fucking much.

[lustlovehart]

Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!

If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~

Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.

Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!

Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.

The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.

“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”

Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.

Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.

Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.

“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”

“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.

But to your dismay, he finds one.

“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”

“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.

In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.

His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…

He could help everyone.

…

His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.

And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.

Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.

He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—

Ah, you’re asleep again.

Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.

He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.

He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.

Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.

It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.

…

You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.

There’s a note hastily inscribed.

Human, leave soon.

Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.

In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.

… You feel like you’ve seen this before.

[nuemanfilms]

DOE-EYED BOY S.W

Summary Dean drops Sam off at the Harvelle Roadhouse after a vamp nest. The older Winchester isnt oblivious about Sam’s feelings towards you, he just thinks his brother needs a little push.

Content warnings SMUT!! piv, dirty talk, pet names (Angel, Sweetheart, baby, Sweet girl.), Fem!Harvelle!Reader, based on Jo & Dean from s2, Reader is Ellen’s daughter, semi-public sex, ?rough? sex, Fear of getting caught, teasing, creampie, Dean being an ass, slight plot + more.

notes wow, I have so many ideas and this is one that I actually completed!! 1200+ words.

xoxo, roro!

——

After a vampire nest, Sam and Dean stopped at the Harvelle Bar. Yeah, the motel was in the complete and opposite direction of where your bar was, but Dean knew, despite Sam not admitting it, that he wanted to see you.

Dean tried to hit on you first with cheesy pickup lines, but you didn’t have eyes for Dean. The younger Winchester was more in your view. He was doe-eyed, his brown locks were shaggy, along with his shyness around you in general. He was educated though, he was intelligent. He was skilled as well, you could see why he was the one who made the plans most of the time on hunts.

You became close with the other brother, the doe eyed boy captivating in almost every way.

The Impala came to a halt outside the bar. Sam’s head perked up, his eyes immediately narrowing at his brother.

“Dean-“ The older Winchester cut him off, “C’mon, Sammy! Go talk to her.” Dean had that smug, classic smirk on his face. Sam knew Dean wouldn’t leave it, or back off about it. So, he got out of the car and walked through the door. Dean muttered something inaudible under his breath that Sam couldn’t quite make out. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, though.

When the door pushed open, signaling the bell to ring, your head perked up. The smile that curled up on your lips was contagious, one forming on his as well.

The bar was empty, Sam had a feeling your mother was upstairs since she wasn’t located in the area. Even with a dirty apron wrapped around your hips, you looked beautiful. Sam already had the urge to brush that stray hair out of your eyesight.

“Sorry, we just got out of a Vamp nest and Dean decided to come here so-“ His eyebrows raised when he was cut off with your lips pressing against his. He froze for a moment, before melting into it. He could feel your smile against his lips.

Sam pulled back just a mere inch away from your lips so he could speak, “What about Ellen?-“

“If you’re scared of my mother, she’s upstairs.” You teased, your hand reached down to interlock with his. Pulling him to the backroom behind the bar area.

Once the door shut (louder than it should’ve been), Sam met your lips again. Leading you over to the desk in the middle of the room. He lowered you down onto it, without disconnecting your lips.

Your hand slid the Carhartt jacket off his shoulders while Sam clumsily fiddled with the buttons of your jeans. He spoke again, “Lift your hips f’ me, Angel.” You obliged quicker than you would to do a chore.

Sam slid your jeans off your body, leaving them discarded on the floor. His fingers slid down to your clothed core, instantly feeling the arousal that soaked through your panties. He let out a groan, “Fuck, baby… you’ve been waiting for me?” Sam only got more desperate when he heard your whine. When your hands went to fumble at his belt, he assisted you. Sliding the leather out of its loops and unzipping his jeans quickly.

Your eyes looked up at his, your lips were parted slightly. You trailed your hand into his boxers, Sam let out a hiss at the contact. He was so hard already, and he didn’t think he would last for any foreplay.

“As much- as much as I’d love it, can’t wait, Sweetheart…” Before you could even mutter out a reply, a moan ripped from your throat when Sam flipped you onto your stomach. His fingers teasingly tracing the hemline of your panties before he finally pulled them down. You clenched around nothing just at the cold air hitting your cunt.

Sam wrapped a hand around his length as he guided himself closer to you. His tip brushed up and down your slick entrance.

“God- you’re soaked, baby… ‘s because of me? Or ‘cause you know your mom could come down and see us?” You mewled at his teasing, “Please… Please I can’t wait anymor-“ The moan that came from you was so loud, so pornographic. Sam was stretching you in half… and he was only slightly past the tip. Sam groaned as he sheathed himself inside of you, watching each inch of his cock fitting snugly inside of your pussy.

Sam’s hand slapped against your mouth, trying his best to muffle your noises.

“You’re so loud, Sweet girl… you want us to get caught? You want someone to see my dick inside of this pretty little hole? Stretching it wide?” Sam let out a moan when you squeezed him, despite his dirty talk on being quiet, he wasn’t doing any better. He gave you a few more moments to adjust before he pulled out and slammed back in.

The vulgar whines and cries of his name falling from your parted lips had Sam feeling as if he could combust at any moment. The cool metal of the desk against your stomach made you shiver.

Sam’s thrusts were rapid, rough. He was chasing his own orgasm, using your body like a sexdoll. And you didn’t mind it, fuck, you loved it. You loved it more than you should’ve.

“Mm- Sammy… ‘s so good, need it- auh! Need it harder…” You pleaded with him, Sam let out a dark chuckle at that. You were getting off on this, getting off on his dick slamming in and out of your cunt, on how he used you like you were nothing but a whore.

“Fuck- you want it harder, baby? Shit, i’m gonna give you it.” He said between heavy breaths. Both of your breathing combined was harsh and heavy. And the way you were squeezing around Sam, gave him a clear idea of how much you wanted this.

Your whimpers and whines became more pitched, more frequent. Not that far away from each noise you made. You were close, and that drove Sam to move faster. His hips were set to a bruising pace, and the grip he had on your own was hard. Designed to leave a mark of this encounter.

“Fill me up, Sammy.. I wan’- wan’ to feel it. Need to feel your cum inside me... ple-ase!” The plea was so broken sounded. You sounded like you were on the verge of tears as he destroyed you. Sam grunted hearing your plead for him, just the words you spoke had him pulsing.

He groaned again, “Yeah- Yeah… that’s it. Gonna let me fuck it into this pussy, huh? Need my fucking kids, don’t you?” You nodded, saliva smeared on your lips and the corner of your mouth. Your brain turning to mush.

Your orgasm hit you hard, your vision blinking white as you let out a broken scream of pleasure. Sam followed behind you, moaning at the sensation.

He was careful when he pulled out, your mixed juices threatening to spill. Sam didn’t hesitate in lifting his middle finger and shoving it back inside of your abused cunt. You let out a whimper at the sudden intrusion.

Sam helped you put your clothes back on before he did his own, he constantly kept asking if you were okay or if it was too much.

“Did I do too much- hurt you or anything? You’re okay right-“ You cut him off with a smile, “It was perfect, Sam. You didn’t do anything, I promise.” Sam sighed in relief, before a thought came to his mind.

“You’re sure your mom didn’t hear…?”

[urdreamydoodles]

Can we have some headcannons about the comic X Men characters seeing their lover going absolutely animal during battle due to losing control and thinking the enemy killed the character they're paired with?

X-Men x Reader

You think the enemy killed your lover

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney, Wade Wilson, Cable & Hank McCoy

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- When Logan finally regains consciousness, he sees you in the midst of battle, a blur of primal fury tearing through your enemies. There’s something raw and unhinged about the way you move, like an animal unleashed, and it takes him a moment to realize you’re fighting as if he’s already dead. His heart clenches as he understands just how deeply his supposed “death” has shattered you.

- Watching you like this is both breathtaking and terrifying for Logan. He’s always respected your strength, but this is different—this is vengeance incarnate. He recognizes the wildness in your eyes, a mirror of his own rage when he loses himself. Logan knows he needs to reach you before you spiral further, but he also knows you won’t stop until every last threat is eliminated.

- Logan makes his way to you, dodging blows and gunfire, his voice rough as he tries to get through to you. He calls your name, over and over, louder each time, but you’re in too deep, consumed by grief and fury. The sight breaks him a little, knowing he’s the reason for your pain. But he’s never been one to back down, so he keeps pushing, shouting until his voice is hoarse.

- Just as you finish off the last enemy in a brutal display, Logan manages to reach you. He grabs your wrist, his grip firm but gentle, and he says your name in a tone that cuts through your haze of anger. When you finally turn to face him, there’s a mixture of disbelief and relief in your eyes, and he can see how hard it’s been for you to lose control.

- Logan pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as your anger fades into exhaustion. He murmurs reassurances, his voice softer than it usually is, telling you he’s okay, he’s here. You cling to him, breath hitching as the realization settles that he’s alive. Logan just holds you, whispering that he’s not going anywhere, grounding you as your mind returns from the edge.

- Later, when you’re both safe, Logan sits beside you, a hand on your back as he tells you how much it meant to him that you fought for him like that. But he also makes you promise that you’ll never let grief take you that far again. With a quiet intensity, he says he never wants to see you lose yourself like that, no matter the cost. You nod, grateful for his honesty and the steady comfort only he can give.

Remy LeBeau aka Gambit

- Remy never thought he’d see you like this, an unstoppable force ripping through your enemies as if they were nothing. His heart sinks as he realizes what’s driving you—thinking he’s gone, that he’s been taken from you. The raw anguish in your movements, the way you fight with reckless abandon, hits him harder than he could have imagined.

- Struggling to regain his own strength, Remy watches you, pain and admiration swirling within him. You’re beautiful even in your fury, and there’s something heart-wrenching about how much you care, how much his loss has devastated you. He knows he needs to reach you, but he’s almost afraid of what you’ll do when you see him.

- As you land blow after blow, Remy starts calling out to you, his voice a mixture of desperation and tenderness. He knows you can’t hear him through the storm of your anger, but he keeps trying, putting everything he has into reaching you. “Chérie, it’s me! I’m here,” he calls, each word laced with the hope that it’ll get through to you.

- Finally, when he’s close enough, Remy catches your arm, spinning you around to face him. For a heartbeat, there’s only shock and confusion in your eyes, and he braces himself, waiting for you to process that he’s alive, that he’s standing right here. His hand comes up to your face, and he whispers soothing words, his thumb tracing soft circles against your cheek.

- As you finally realize he’s okay, you collapse against him, the weight of the battle and your grief crashing over you. Remy wraps his arms around you, pressing gentle kisses to your temple, murmuring that he’s safe, that he’d never leave you. He holds you close, grounding you in his warmth, his presence pulling you back from the edge.

- Later, as you both recover, Remy teases you gently, his voice filled with warmth. “Didn’t know you cared so much, ma belle,” he says, though there’s a hint of seriousness behind his grin. He tells you he never wants to see you suffer like that for him again, that you don’t have to shoulder that pain alone. You smile back, grateful for his understanding and the promise of his steady presence.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- When Kurt wakes to the sight of you battling with reckless ferocity, he’s taken aback. He’s always known you were strong, but this is different—this is a primal, almost desperate rage that’s tearing through your enemies. It’s clear you believe he’s gone, and the realization stings, leaving him both moved and horrified by the depth of your grief.

- He watches you, his heart aching as he sees the agony etched into every move you make. Kurt has always admired your strength, but seeing you like this, driven by heartbreak and fury, is almost too much to bear. He knows he needs to get through to you, to pull you back before you lose yourself completely in the anger.

- With a deep breath, Kurt teleports closer, his voice steady and calm as he calls your name. He keeps his distance at first, understanding that you might not recognize him right away in your state. But he keeps talking, his words gentle yet insistent, hoping to break through the storm of emotions raging within you.

- When you finally turn to him, your eyes widen, a flicker of disbelief crossing your face. Kurt approaches cautiously, reaching out a hand to you, his touch featherlight as he reassures you he’s alive, that he’s here. He whispers soft words in German, words meant to soothe and comfort, and slowly, the tension in your body begins to ease.

- Kurt pulls you into his arms, holding you close as you tremble, the weight of your grief finally lifting as you realize he’s okay. He strokes your hair, murmuring reassurances, promising that he’ll always be here, that you won’t have to bear this pain alone. His touch is gentle, his presence grounding, a balm to your wounded heart.

- In the aftermath, as you sit together in quiet reflection, Kurt speaks softly, thanking you for fighting so fiercely for him. But he also makes you promise that you won’t let grief consume you like that again, that you’ll remember he’s here with you, no matter what. You nod, touched by his words, and the bond between you feels stronger than ever.

Scott Summers aka Cyclops

- When Scott sees you tearing through the battlefield, raw anger and sorrow radiating from you, his heart breaks. He knows what’s fueling you—that you think he’s been taken from you, that he’s gone. He watches in shock as you fight, your moves a chaotic blend of power and desperation, and he realizes just how deeply his “death” has shaken you.

- Though Scott is weak, he pulls himself up, calling out to you, his voice firm and steady. He knows how much his presence means to you, and he needs to reach you before you lose yourself entirely in your grief. “I’m here!” he shouts, but he can see you’re too far gone to hear him, lost in the haze of pain and rage.

- As you take down another enemy with a brutal blow, Scott gets close enough to grab your arm. You whirl around, anger flashing in your eyes, but the moment you see him, there’s a flicker of recognition. He meets your gaze, his hand steady on your shoulder, grounding you in his presence, letting you know he’s real, that he’s here.

- The realization hits you like a wave, and Scott gently pulls you into his arms, holding you as you shake. He doesn’t say anything, just holds you, his steady heartbeat a quiet reassurance against the storm inside you. You cling to him, letting his presence bring you back from the edge, the warmth of his embrace anchoring you in the here and now.

- Later, as you both catch your breath, Scott speaks softly, his tone serious yet tender. He tells you how much he appreciates the strength you showed, but he also asks you not to let grief drive you to that place again. He doesn’t want to see you suffer for him, and his words are filled with a gentle but firm conviction.

- With a quiet smile, you promise him that you’ll try to keep that darkness at bay, that you’ll remember he’s here, even in the toughest moments. Scott nods, his hand still on yours, and there’s a silent understanding between you—a shared strength that will carry you both through whatever comes next.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- The battle had taken its toll, and you were certain Jean had been lost. The surge of grief within you erupted into raw power, your abilities igniting in a way that scared everyone around you, including yourself. You tore through the enemies with an unrelenting fury, the thought of avenging her the only thing grounding you to the fight.

- When Jean finally managed to regain consciousness, she saw you surrounded by chaos, your power crackling in the air like a storm barely contained. The pain in your expression cut through her heart—seeing you like this, thinking she was gone, was unbearable. She called out to you softly, her voice strained but filled with urgency.

- At first, her words couldn’t reach you. You were too consumed by rage and despair, tearing apart anyone who dared come near. But Jean didn’t give up, pushing herself to stand, her telepathy reaching out to your mind, whispering gentle reassurances: I’m here. I’m alive. Please, come back to me.

- Her presence in your mind broke through the haze, and your powers faltered. You turned toward her, disbelief and hope flashing in your eyes. Jean reached out with both her hand and her thoughts, anchoring you as you stumbled toward her. The moment you touched her, the flood of emotions spilled over, and you collapsed into her arms.

- She held you tightly, her own tears falling as she whispered comforting words, grounding you. Jean didn’t shy away from the storm you had unleashed; instead, she understood the depth of your pain and vowed to help you carry it. Together, you stood amidst the wreckage, leaning on each other for strength.

- Later, as the two of you sat in the aftermath of the fight, Jean gently cupped your face and told you she’d never leave you, no matter what. Her words were a promise etched into your soul, and you held onto her, knowing she meant every word. The bond between you both deepened, forged in fire and grief but tempered with love and understanding.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- The storm within you matched the one raging in the sky, lightning cracking and thunder roaring as you unleashed your fury on those who had taken Ororo from you. You fought like a force of nature, your movements wild and untamed, your grief fueling every blow. The thought of her death had broken something in you, and you didn’t care if you fell with the enemies surrounding you.

- Ororo awoke to the sound of the storm and the sight of you at its center. She could feel the raw, unrestrained power radiating from you, and it frightened her to see you like this. She understood your pain, but she knew that if you didn’t stop, you would destroy yourself in the process.

- Using the last of her strength, Ororo summoned a gust of wind to push the enemies away from you. Her voice rang out, calm and steady despite her exhaustion: “I am here. Look at me.” The words were soft yet commanding, cutting through the chaos surrounding you.

- When your eyes met hers, the storm inside you faltered. You stumbled toward her, disbelief evident in your expression. Ororo reached out, pulling you into her arms as the tension drained from your body. The storm around you began to calm, the skies clearing as her presence soothed your anguish.

- Ororo held you close, her voice gentle but firm as she reassured you. “You are not alone in this,” she said, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. She didn’t admonish your actions but instead helped you find balance, her wisdom guiding you back to yourself.

- In the quiet moments after the battle, Ororo took your hand and looked into your eyes. “Your strength is remarkable, but you must learn to wield it with purpose,” she said. Her words weren’t a reprimand but a promise to help you grow. With her by your side, you knew you could face anything.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- When you thought Rogue had been killed, something inside you snapped. The world around you became a blur as you fought with unrelenting ferocity, your grief manifesting as raw, untamed power. You didn’t care about the consequences; all you wanted was to make those responsible pay for taking her away.

- Rogue regained consciousness just in time to see you in the middle of the carnage. Her heart ached at the sight of you, consumed by pain and rage, and she knew she had to stop you before you destroyed yourself. She pushed herself up, calling out to you with a voice full of both urgency and tenderness.

- At first, you didn’t hear her. The sound of your own anguish drowned out everything else, and you continued to fight, blind to the world around you. But Rogue wasn’t one to give up easily. She pushed through the chaos, reaching out to you with a determination born of love.

- When her hand finally touched yours, you froze. Her voice, soft yet steady, broke through the storm raging inside you. “Ah’m here, sugar. It’s me,” she said, her Southern drawl wrapping around you like a lifeline. The sight of her alive and well shattered the walls of your grief, and you collapsed into her arms.

- Rogue held you tightly, her own tears falling as she whispered reassurances. She didn’t shy away from your pain but embraced it, her presence a steady anchor in the aftermath of your fury. She stroked your hair, her touch grounding you as she helped you come back to yourself.

- Later, as you both sat together, Rogue cupped your face in her gloved hands and smiled softly. “You’re stronger than you know,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “But you don’t have to face this alone.” Her words were a balm to your soul, and you leaned into her, grateful for her unwavering love and support.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- When you thought Erik had been killed, your grief erupted into raw, unbridled power. You tore through the battlefield with a vengeance, your abilities surging beyond control. The air around you crackled with energy as you fought, determined to make every enemy pay for what they had done.

- Erik regained consciousness to the sight of your fury, and for a moment, he was both awed and terrified by your power. He had always admired your strength, but this was something else entirely—a manifestation of the depth of your love for him. He knew he had to reach you before you destroyed everything, including yourself.

- Summoning his strength, Erik called out to you, his voice sharp and commanding. “Enough!” he shouted, the weight of his authority cutting through the chaos. His words startled you, and for a moment, your rampage faltered as you turned to face him.

- When your eyes met his, the world seemed to stop. Erik’s gaze was steady, his expression calm but filled with concern. He took a step toward you, his hand outstretched. “I am here,” he said, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to fight alone.”

- The sight of him alive broke something inside you, and you collapsed into his arms, your anger giving way to overwhelming relief. Erik held you tightly, his presence grounding you as he whispered soothing words. He didn’t chastise you for your actions but instead reassured you that he understood your pain.

- In the aftermath, Erik sat with you, his hand resting on yours as he spoke. “Your strength is extraordinary,” he said, his tone filled with both admiration and caution. “But you must learn to control it, to channel it wisely.” His words weren’t a reprimand but a promise to guide you, and you nodded, knowing you could face anything with him by your side.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- When you believed Charles was gone, the world tilted on its axis. Grief consumed you, and in that moment, every lesson about restraint and control he'd ever taught you was forgotten. Your power erupted like a tidal wave, obliterating anything and anyone that dared stand in your path. The connection you’d always shared with Charles was severed, leaving a void that felt unbearable.

- Charles regained consciousness to the chaos you had unleashed. He immediately felt the intensity of your anguish, the raw and untamed energy you were emitting. Reaching out telepathically, he tried to connect with you, his mind brushing against yours with a gentle, familiar touch.

- At first, you resisted his presence in your mind, too consumed by your emotions to recognize it. But Charles persisted, his voice calm and steady in your thoughts: I am here, my dear. You are not alone. The warmth of his words broke through the storm raging inside you, and you turned to find him standing there, alive.

- Your legs gave way beneath you, and Charles caught you, his arms steady and reassuring. He held you as you wept, his mind offering soothing reassurances that you were safe and that he was still with you. The connection between you, once frayed, grew stronger as he shared in your pain and guided you back to yourself.

- Later, as the battlefield grew quiet, Charles spoke to you softly. “You are remarkable, both in your strength and your love,” he said, his tone filled with admiration. “But grief cannot define you.” His words carried a wisdom that only he could impart, and you nodded, finding solace in his presence.

- Together, you returned to the team, your bond stronger than ever. Charles promised that no matter what challenges came, you would face them together. His unshakable faith in you became your anchor, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, you were never truly alone.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- When you thought Wanda had been killed, the world seemed to unravel. Your emotions became a catalyst for your abilities, and reality itself twisted and bent under the weight of your grief. You lashed out at the enemies surrounding you, determined to make them pay for taking her from you.

- Wanda’s consciousness stirred as she felt the fabric of reality shift. She knew it was you—your power was unmistakable—and her heart broke at the thought of you in such pain. Gathering her strength, she reached out with her magic, creating a beacon of light to guide you back to her.

- At first, you didn’t notice her presence, too consumed by your anger and sorrow to see the light she had conjured. But Wanda persisted, her voice a soft plea that resonated in the air around you. “I’m here, my love. Look at me.”

- The sound of her voice cut through the haze, and you turned to see her standing amidst the chaos. Relief and disbelief flooded through you as you stumbled toward her. Wanda caught you in her arms, her magic wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.

- As the two of you stood together, Wanda whispered soothing words, her hands gently cupping your face. “I’m alive,” she said, her voice filled with both love and reassurance. Her presence calmed the storm within you, and the world around you began to stabilize.

- Later, as you sat together in the aftermath of the battle, Wanda held your hand tightly. “We are stronger together,” she said, her eyes shining with determination. Her words were a promise, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- When you thought Pietro had been killed, the world seemed to slow in contrast to the speed of your grief. Your pain erupted into a flurry of action, every movement driven by the need for vengeance. You moved with a singular purpose, tearing through enemies with a ferocity they couldn’t escape.

- Pietro wasn’t down for long. When he came to, his first thought was of you. He spotted you in the distance, your powers wreaking havoc, and he immediately knew what had happened. Despite his own injuries, he pushed himself forward, racing toward you at a speed that blurred the edges of reality.

- It wasn’t easy to stop you. You were lost in your emotions, your every action fueled by the belief that Pietro was gone. But he didn’t give up. He zipped in front of you, grabbing your face with both hands and forcing you to look at him. “I’m here,” he said, his voice urgent. “I’m not going anywhere.”

- Your movements faltered, the sound of his voice breaking through the storm inside you. You stared at him, disbelief etched across your face. When his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, the tension drained from your body, and you collapsed against him, sobbing into his chest.

- Pietro held you tightly, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with a rare vulnerability. “I’m sorry you thought you lost me,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But I’m here, and I’m not leaving you.” His words were a balm to your soul, grounding you in the moment.

- Later, as you both rested in the aftermath, Pietro refused to let go of your hand. “You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, his tone laced with both concern and affection. His honesty reminded you of how deeply he cared, and you vowed to protect each other, no matter what.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- When you thought Emma had been killed, the pain was unbearable. Your emotions surged, and your powers manifested in ways you couldn’t control. You fought with a cold, calculated fury, determined to make the enemies responsible suffer for what they had done to her.

- Emma’s telepathic presence was the first thing you felt before you even saw her. She reached into your mind, her voice cool but firm. Enough of this dramatics, she said, her tone laced with both affection and exasperation. I’m alive, darling.

- You froze, her words cutting through the fog of your grief. Turning, you saw her standing amidst the chaos, her diamond form glinting in the light. Relief washed over you as you stumbled toward her, your emotions spilling over in a way you knew she would tease you about later.

- Emma caught you in her arms, her diamond exterior melting away to reveal her softer side. She brushed her fingers through your hair, her voice low and soothing as she reassured you. “You’re stronger than this,” she said, her tone both a challenge and a comfort. “And I won’t have you falling apart over me.”

- Her words brought a smile to your lips, even through the tears. Emma wasn’t one to coddle, but her presence was enough to ground you. She helped you regain your composure, her sharp wit and unwavering confidence reminding you why you loved her.

- Later, as you sat together in the quiet aftermath, Emma looked at you with a rare vulnerability in her eyes. “You’re important to me,” she admitted, her voice softer than usual. “But don’t you dare lose control like that again. We’re in this together.” Her words were both a warning and a promise, and you nodded, knowing she meant every word.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- When you thought Laura had been killed, a savage rage overtook you. The thought of losing her, someone so important to you, drove you to a breaking point. Your normally measured demeanor was replaced with unrelenting fury, and you launched yourself into the fray, fighting with an intensity you didn’t even know you possessed.

- Laura wasn’t down for long. Her healing factor kicked in, and though her injuries were severe, she pushed through the pain. When she saw you fighting with such reckless abandon, her heart twisted in an unfamiliar mix of pride and worry.

- She approached you cautiously, not wanting to startle you mid-rage. But when her voice broke through the chaos, calling your name with that rare softness only you ever heard, you stopped in your tracks. Turning to her, your chest heaved with exertion and emotion as you saw her alive, battered but breathing.

- “I’m not that easy to get rid of,” she said, her lips quirking into a small smirk. Her words were light, but her eyes were filled with a rare vulnerability. She stepped closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re okay now. I’m here.”

- The adrenaline drained from you in an instant, and you collapsed into her arms. Laura wasn’t one for big displays of affection, but she held you tightly, her claws retracting as she whispered, “I’m sorry you had to think that, even for a second.” Her voice carried an earnestness that melted your anger into relief.

- Later, as you both sat together in the quiet aftermath, she took your hand and squeezed it tightly. “You don’t have to go berserk for me,” she said, her tone teasing but serious. “I’ll always come back. Always.” Her words were a promise, one she intended to keep, no matter the odds.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- When you thought Wade had been killed, the world went silent, as if the universe itself had paused in shock. But grief quickly turned to fury, and you channeled every ounce of your anger into the fight, determined to avenge the man who had brought chaos, laughter, and unexpected love into your life.

- Unbeknownst to you, Wade had already regenerated and was watching your rampage with equal parts admiration and amusement. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

- He let you have your moment for a bit before dramatically announcing his presence. “Honey, I’m home!” he shouted, striking a ridiculous pose mid-battle. The sheer absurdity of his reappearance caught you off guard, and you froze, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

- “Miss me?” he said with a wink, dodging an enemy attack as if it were nothing. Your emotions hit you like a freight train—relief, anger, joy—and before you knew it, you were storming toward him. “Whoa, whoa! Easy on the merchandise!” he joked as you threw your arms around him.

- Wade wrapped his arms around you tightly, his usual banter softening as he whispered, “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare ya, but hey, I’m kinda hard to kill.” His voice carried an uncharacteristic sincerity that made you hold him even tighter.

- Later, as the dust settled, he leaned into your space with a playful grin. “So, did I earn some hot, passionate, ‘thank God you’re alive’ kisses, or what?” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling, knowing that only Wade could turn such a harrowing moment into something ridiculous and comforting all at once.

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- When you thought Nathan had been killed, something inside you snapped. You charged into battle with a ferocity born of desperation, pushing your limits to ensure no one else fell. Every attack, every movement was a testament to your grief and your unwillingness to let his loss be in vain.

- Nathan woke up groggy but alive, his body slowly regenerating thanks to his techno-organic enhancements. When he saw the carnage you were wreaking, his heart clenched. He knew you loved him, but seeing the depth of your despair took him by surprise.

- “Stand down, soldier,” his gruff voice called out, cutting through the chaos. At first, you didn’t believe it—you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you. But then you turned and saw him standing there, bruised but alive, and your world came crashing back into focus.

- You ran to him, your emotions overwhelming you as you buried your face against his chest. Nathan wrapped his arms around you, his massive frame providing the stability you desperately needed. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere.”

- As the adrenaline faded, the reality of what had happened hit you both. Nathan cupped your face in his hands, his eyes filled with unspoken promises. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt. “But you’re stronger than you know. Don’t forget that.”

- Later, as you sat in the aftermath of the battle, he pulled you close, his arm draped protectively around you. “We’ve got each other’s backs,” he said firmly. “No matter what.” His words were a vow, and you nodded, knowing that no force in the universe could break the bond you shared.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- When you thought Hank had been killed, the rational part of your mind shattered. Logic and reason were replaced by an all-consuming grief that fueled your every move. You fought with a precision that was almost mechanical, each strike a desperate attempt to make up for his absence.

- Hank, though injured, managed to pull himself together. When he saw you fighting so fiercely, his heart ached. He admired your strength but hated that it came from a place of such profound pain.

- “My dear,” his deep, soothing voice called out to you, breaking through the haze. At first, you thought it was a hallucination, a cruel trick of your grief. But then you saw him, standing there with a gentle smile despite his injuries, and your heart nearly stopped.

- You ran to him, tears streaming down your face as you clung to him. Hank wrapped his arms around you, his fur soft and comforting against your skin. “I apologize for worrying you,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “But as you can see, I am quite resilient.”

- His calm demeanor helped bring you back to yourself, and you managed a shaky laugh. “You scared me,” you admitted, your voice breaking. Hank brushed a hand over your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring. “And I regret that deeply,” he replied. “But you showed remarkable fortitude. I’m proud of you.”

- Later, as the two of you sat together in the quiet aftermath, Hank held your hand in his massive paw. “No matter what challenges we face, we’ll face them together,” he said, his tone unwavering. His words filled you with a sense of peace, and you knew that as long as he was by your side, you could handle anything.

[raccoongrippers]

Underlying the anger, though, Soap recognizes pain. A deep, swelling pain that lingers just behind his eyes. His fingers tremble around the familiar pendant, the memories that flood into his frail mind a silent reminder of what was. Of who he was forced to leave behind, courtesy of Roba and his ruthless men.

"Answer me, Soap! Where did you get it!?" He demanded again. Soap just looked into his eyes a long moment, taking mental note of how he used his call sign instead of Johnny. He missed the familiar Johnny that would fall from his lips in the normal times.

"Tommy. Tommy gave it to me." He saw no point in lying to the man. He's been locked up for ages, unable to converse, unable to release the pains and the sufferings of being kept here in this awful place. "You remember Tommy, right?"

Tommy. Ghost hadn't spoken to him in ages, but he still remembered the lad. The wonderful memories from their years of youth, the pain they'd endured together, the despair from their horrid father, if you could even call him such a thing. Tommy, his poor younger brother, the one he needed to protect, who was now trying to protect him. He always knew the younger man was intelligent.

Ghost softened ever so slightly, giving way to Simon. Only for the ones he cares for will he let himself through. He dropped the pendant, hitting the cement floor with a heavy clink. It dropped open, revealing the memoria inside. A picture of Tommy and Simon, younger of course, sat together with huge smiles, Simon's arm around his younger brother, holding him close. A wonderful memory, it seems.

"Si'. Price is comin' to get us out o' here, a'ight? I promise. Tommy knew somethin' was up. Ye can thank the bugger when we get back to safety, aye?" Johnny broke through his thoughts, gracing a gentle hand over one of Simon's trembling ones, wrapping his fingers around cold, calloused ones.

All Simon can do is nod. He's at a loss for words. He's been through so much these past few months, he can't find it in himself to put up any more of a fight than he already has. He drops like a fly, curling up against Johnny. It's unlike him, but the Scot isn't complaining. He's just glad the man didn't wring his throat.

Despite the situation, it's almost..peaceful. Almost.

They still need to get out.

And get out they did. There was plenty of bloodshed, a few casualties and a ton of hard work, but they did it with the help of the rest of the team. Before leaving the cell, though, Soap- Johnny had tucked the pendant into Simon's breast pocket, so he can quite literally keep it at heart. Simon was too beaten to complain.

He'd go on to make a full recovery from his numerous injuries. He went to go see his mother and brother first, ensuring they were both perfectly okay and to reassure them both that we was alive.

Then he went back to the team. Price kept him for the first few days of extended recovery, talking with him slow and ensuring he got all the care he desperately needed, despite his protests. He took good care of him. Then he went off to Gaz, who made him good food and ensured he rested enough. Much like Price, only a little more leaneant and joking with him. He watched movies with him. Then came Soap. Soap was more gentle, more...tentative. He was afraid he'd crossed a line in the cell at Roba's compound in bringing Simon the pendant, even if it got him out in the end. He couldn't risk breaking Simon's trust.

Simon didn't think that way, though. Although he mostly kept quiet, he had reason to. He was too caught up in admiring Johnny being careful and gentle with him that he'd forgotten to speak most of the time. He just wanted to embrace the man, his Scot. His everything. He was too busy admiring how Johnny and Price and Gaz And Tommy had gone through thick and thin, had fought tooth and nail just to drag him out of a literal pit. And Johnny had sacrificed himself just to get through to Simon. Not Ghost, but Simon. He was a keeper for sure.

After a lengthy silence between him and Simon, Johnny spoke his mind. "I'm sorry, Si', I didnae mean ta hurt yer feelin's or anythin', ah just-" he was cut off.

"Johnny, shut up."

He paused, choking on a breath of silent fear. "..What?"

"I told you to shut up. You're being too hard on yourself."

"I'm sorry?"

"Why won't you just shut up and kiss me?"

The room fell silent. Johnny's heart rate picked up, and he couldn't think straight any longer. Why had the British bastard waited so damn long for this? Why now? He didn't complain, though, and he did.

Simon sat up on the sofa slightly, and Johnny stared down at him, contemplating if his lieutenant was serious or not. If he was just pulling his leg. That thought evaporated when Simon pulled the Scot onto his lap, uncaring of his current, healing injuries, and stole his lips in a soft, longing kiss. It lasted a while, before Johnny pulled away a moment to speak, slightly breathless.

"You're still healin', ye dumb bastard," he muttered, eliciting an eye roll from Simon below him. He spoke in response. "I don't care."

And they stayed that way a while, comfortably in the other's embrace. Price and Gaz walked in a few hours later to drop of trays of food, finding Simon comfortably crushing Johnny beneath him, both contentedly asleep against one another.

They left them in a comfortable silence and left the food on the coffee table beside them.

Everything was alright again.

barely-baked idea but i thought someone may be Interested. so, a take on that “where did you get this?” sort of moment with ghoap, but in the context of ghost’s backstory

-

when ghost’s family receives the news of his death, it’s devastating. after he’d done so much to piece them all back together again and carve out the rot of their father, simon doesn’t get to reap the rewards of what he sowed.

except, tommy doesn’t believe it. doesn’t believe his brother was killed in mexico. he’s so adamant, in fact, that he does some digging into simon’s old army contacts, the ones simon once said he could actually trust, and comes across a john price. and, subsequently, a john “soap” mactavish. tommy manages to convince price that simon’s still alive, though it doesn’t take much work since price has also been suspicious.

fast forward, there’s a plan to have soap captured by roba, just long enough to not be suspicious, just long enough to verify simon’s status and tell him of a plan of escape, an operation to destroy the cartel. tommy gives him something, maybe an old locket necklace of their mother’s, as reinforcement to reassure simon that soap can be trusted.

only, simon finds the necklace before soap pulls it out himself to explain. and he gets angry, and lashes out at soap, who doesn’t understand why until he’s trying to relieve a heavy pressure from his throat and the necklace is thrust into his face, simon growling the first words soap’s heard him mutter since his time in captivity: where did you get this?

-

anyway that’s as far as i got because like i said. barely-baked. i am open to anyone taking this and running with it as per usual lol

[astrallytadpoled]

Companion Underwear Tier List

Do you know how hard it was to put this together? Did I at any point think I'd be sitting here overthinking underpants? No. Never. I hope all my teachers are proud of me!

Underwear was assessed based on FOUR criteria: sex appeal, description, bulge/clam protection, and bondage appeal.

Are you ready for the break down? Of course you are.

More under the cut!

First up, Lae'zel.

Sex appeal: That is quite the sexy underwear. It being leather means everything is swampy down there, though. BUT that would be a perk for some of you heathens. 9/10 Description: Built for function rather than fun. What? Have you SEEN that thing? Imagine the wedgies you get trying to fight in it! 6/10 Bulge/clam protection: It covers the most important bits, and it's leather, but enough is uncovered that a direct groin hit would hurt 6/10 Bondage Appeal: Leather? Straps? Tie me up, mommy. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/40, or 78% or C

Shadowheart:

Sex appeal: They're a nicely made matching set of underwear 8/10 Description: If pants could brood… Absolutely fucking hilarious 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Material seems weak, and it doesn't provide good coverage 6/10 Bondage appeal: Pretty generic mildly sexy underwear with a bit of an edge. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/50 or 77% or C

Astarion:

Sex appeal: It's Astarion I'd be eaten alive if I don't give this a 10/10 Description: Embroidered into the cloth: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.' Made me laugh out loud irl, so 10/10. Bonus 5 points since he embroidered them himself (effort wins points from me ok) Bulge/clam protection: Look it's cloth. No protection there. And it shows his butt wrinkles (+2 for butt wrinkles) 6/10 Bondage appeal: Generic tighty-not-whities do with them what you will. 6/10 FINAL SCORE: 37/40 or 92% or A

Gale:

Sex appeal: Sorry, Gale. That waist. 7/10 Description: Energy crackles around these. Gale wouldn't… Surely he didn't enchant his… Description? Funny. 10/10. But one has to wonder what sort of enchantment he went for. Prestidigitation? Or some sort of temperature control? A smart man would go for prestidigitation. Extra 7 points for the enchantment. Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth, but he's got good coverage going AND they're magic9/10 Bondage appeal: Who likes shorts? Are shorts bondage-able? 3/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Wyll

Sex appeal: Bonus for cut, but I gotta ding you for the drawstring. Sorry, Wyll. 6/10 Description: Long may these gird the Blade of Frontiers. Yes, yes, we know. You're the Blade of Frontiers. Makes it sound they're his only pair of underpants, too! 5/10 Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth. Do you think Mizora protects his bulge in any way? I doubt it. 3/10 Bondage appeal: They're white underpants. 2/10 FINAL SCORE: 16/40 or 40% or D

Karlach

Sex appeal: It's Karlach, she's by default hot. Look at the cut! The straps! 9/10 Description: How do these not burn off? THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION, GAME, and now I'm wondering too. 9/10 Bulge/clam protection: Coverage is not that great BUT, they can take the heat. They should probably grant some sort of fire immunity or something. Larian, fix this. 8/10 Bondage appeal: They look pretty bondage-y, but also Mama K. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 33/40 or 82% or B

Halsin

Sex appeal: To be honest it looks like he's wearing something a size too small, Halsin, hun, give your crotch room to breathe. 6/10 Description: Why does it smell like a herb garden? So at least we know he keeps it clean? Unless HE smells like a herb garden… have you considered that? 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Keeping everything close and tight to minimize damage. Genius. 9/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. Halsin provides the vines. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 35/40 or 87% or B

Jaheira

Sex appeal: The mesh-y vest-y look on the bra, hello? 9/10 Description: Embroidered with little ducks. ….WAIT A MINUTE is that why Halsin likes ducks?! 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Not very protective, but she goes cougar mode anyway (yes I know it's a panther, I just need that joke in there) 8/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. But she's got to be in charge. 9/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Minsc

Sex appeal: It is Minsc 10/10 Description: Tight, aerodynamic, and built for maximum breathability. Humidity is no friend to hamsters. MINSC PLEASE DO NOT PUT HAMSTERS IN YOUR UNDERPANTS. THINK OF LEMMIWINKS 1/10 Bulge/clam protection: No protection, the hamster is a liability 2/10 Bondage appeal: Lemmiwinks 1/10 FINAL SCORE: 14/40 or 35% or F

Minthara

Sex appeal: It is Minthara 15/10 Description: Woven with as much toughened cobweb as cloth. It is an evocative mental image 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Spidersilk stronk, but coverage could be better 7/10 Bondage appeal: It is Minthara 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 42/40 or 105% or S

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - pt 2

The room is vibrating with quiet conversations and the anticipation only a good game can bring.

Below, Hinata’s warming up. He knows exactly where you’re sitting and he waves excitedly before moving on in the line-up.

“Hey, you’re here already.” Kuroo smiles when he squeezes through, pulling you into a hug.

Behind him, Kenma comes shuffling in. You move to hug him, like you always do when you’re meeting in a group, though you barely touch this time. It’s a fake-out more than anything else.

“Have you been here long?”

“Hinata needed a ride,” you shrug your shoulders. “I had the car this weekend, so it wasn’t a problem.”

Kuroo whistles a mismatched tune. “Do you think they’re going to win?”

“Oh, for sure,” you smile up at him. “Like how can they not?”

You know you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Volleyball. Most games one of the boys ends up explaining a play to you, but no one ever seemed to mind.

Today, though, you mind.

You know Kenma hasn’t told Hinata about that night, because Hinata’s the worlds worst liar. You’d be able to tell if he knew.

Kuroo, however, is an amazing liar. If he knows, and you suspect he does, he isn’t letting it slip.

His kindness feels forced to you now. Is he pitying you? 

“Did you get that?” He asks half an hour later when the referee waves his hands in a way you haven’t seen before.

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

“You don’t have to explain it,” you say instead, the words a little more biting than they should be. “It’s fine.”

Kuroo startles and behind him, you can see the concern in Kenma’s face. 

You can’t stand it anymore, being this close to him, and get up.

“I need to use the toilet,” you rush out. “Lady problems.”

The line is short. 

But you sit on the cold toilet seat for fifteen minutes, scrolling through Tiktok until your heartbeat settles and you feel ready to go back out again.

You’ll have to apologize to Kuroo in some way if you want to save this friendship.

Though is there a way to save it? Should you, even? 

-

“Did you see my spike?” Hinata asks later, hair damp from the game, towel slung around his neck. “Did you?”

You’re not sure which one he means, but you nod and you fawn over him like you usually do. 

But then he’s gone, gone for a quick shower, and you’re left to wait around.

“You good?” Kuroo asks and you can feel your spine stiffen, from the top all the way down to the bottom.

“Yes,” you tell him, though your eyes stay on the floor. A quick check, Kenma’s shoes are nowhere to be seen. At least he’s not here to witness this. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want your pity.”

Kuroo quiets. He’s usually someone who moves a lot, squiggles his foot, or taps his thigh, but he’s motionless right now, at least the lower part of him that you can see. Nothing is going to make you lift your eyes up. You don’t want to see his face.

“Did something happen last week?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing happened.”

“Are you sure? Kenma said you watched the movie and went out for dinner after like we usually do. He said you didn’t talk much, that it was quiet, but if it’s something about Kenma-”

“Why does it have to be about Kenma?” You lift your eyes now, want to see his face. He looks concerned. Too soft. 

He reminds you of yourself. How did Kenma call it? Bothering people. 

“Maybe it was something at work. Or it’s because I’m on my period. Or I’m just having a bad day. Maybe some creep tried to hit on me and I’m weirded out by that. Why do you automatically assume that it’s about Kenma?”

Kuroo’s quiet for a moment. “You usually react differently to Kenma being around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “Things change.”

He looks pained but he doesn’t pry anymore. You can’t help but think that he’ll ask Kenma about it later. That Kenma will tell him the truth, eventually, because they’ve been friends longer than anyone you know. 

You force yourself to smile. This might be the last time you see Kuroo in a while.

“I’m just being weird,” you promise him. “A girl has to be weird sometimes.”

“Okay,” he nods and you stay there, silent, until Hinata comes back.

- - -

“Hey.”

You look up from your desk. Kuroo’s standing in the doorway, shirt pushed up to the elbows, his hair defying gravity as usual. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen him. 

Work has kept you busy. You’ve got other friends too, though Hinata has been pretty good at calling you up.

“Hey,” you hesitate for a second. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I was in the area and remembered you work here. Do you wanna get lunch together?”

You hesitate. 

“Just checking in on you,” Kuroo promises. “Don’t be a stranger?”

You sigh. “Fine.” 

-

“Kenma hasn’t told me anything, by the way,” Kuroo tells you as he separates his chopsticks. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Why would I be worried about that?”

He chuckles. “You’re pretty good at deflecting, has anyone told you that before?”

“And you’re a mother-hen, has anyone told you that before?”

“Yeah,” he stuffs an egg roll into his mouth and nods. 

“How do you deal with that?” You ask, pushing the rice around your bowl for a moment before taking a bite. 

Kuroo shrugs. “I like being this way. If I step on somebody’s toes, I apologize of course, and try to stay clear of that, but in the end… it’s who I want to be, so why change?”

You consider that, but it’s not that easy. 

Nothing really ever is when there are feelings involved.

“We’re having a movie night next weekend,” Kuroo adds gently when your bowl is almost empty. “I’m formally inviting you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I want to. I like having you around. We,” he corrects himself with a grin. “Like having you around.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bokuto, of course, and where’s Bokuto there’s Akaashi. Atsumu invited himself and he’s bringing Osamu, so there’s food involved. I think Hinata managed to rope Sakusa in, but that’s always a little debatable.” He stops. “I just realized they’re all just guys, so I’m counting on you to invite a few girls.”

“Are you using me to find your friends some girlfriends?”

“Why, is it working?”

- - -

It’s no surprise that Kenma’s not showing up to movie night. He’s not a big fan of crowds, you know, and there’s always a crowd when Atsumu is concerned.

It’s a good thing you end up going because you end up setting Emi up with Osamu - completely on accident - and as Hinata figures out he’s allergic to some weird European drink you’re the only one with antihistamine pills in your possession.

-

“Do you always come this prepared?” Sakusa asks, hiding out in the kitchen where it’s calmest. 

“I guess,” you reply, preparing yourself for another sting.

“I like that,” Sakusa hums. “Do you have hand sanitizer?”

“Sure,” you pull it out of your purse. “Scented or unscented?”

“Unscented please.” He offers his palm and thanks you quietly when you squeeze out the liquid. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi,” he adds after a moment of silence. “Just don’t tell Miya.”

You smile. “This is what being knighted must feel like.”

Kiyoomi taps your forehead. “Don’t get too cocky or I’ll revoke your rights.”

-

“Are you coming to the cinema this weekend?” Hinata asks after a game, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. “It’s that one movie you said you wanted to watch.”

“Sure,” you tell him, ushering him forward, waving at Kiyoomi whose car’s a little further down in the parking lot. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” Hinata yawns. “Can you drive? Key is in my-”

“Wallet, I know.” You pull it out of the bag he’s carrying. “If you invited everyone, surely you wouldn’t miss me.”

Hinata furrows his brows. “That’s not true.”

It’s sweet, but you wonder about it sometimes still. 

It’s the age-old question, isn’t it? Do you like me because you need me or do you need me because you like me?

You think you’ve grown, in these last few months. 

You like the way you are. Not the smartest and not the dumbest. Over-prepared and over-caring. 

But you’ve also recognized that you’re a friend and not a mother.

That you want a partner, not a child. 

“I’m good,” you tell Hinata when you reach his apartment complex. “But thanks for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[letsbangts]

umbrella || jjk

⤷ summary: when rain pours more into your life instead of washing things away

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 2k+

⟶ genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, established relationship

⟶ content: boyfriend!jk, college au, kook is a flirty tease, mainly just a fluffy couple in love with a barely there argument because of a protective jk

⟶ warnings: explicit language

a/n: so this is a very old piece I polished up a bit. it was inspired by a narration in a scene from the drama Goblin, so that tells you how old it is haha. hope you enjoy & let me know what you think!

☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎ ☂︎

on this rainy night, what is your umbrella?

I stood under the awning outside the building, which I was supposed to be far from as of 2 o’clock. My other classmates were long gone, having made their way off campus through the rain by running to their cars with the protection of a coat or umbrella. None of the things I have because I continue not to be an adult and watch the news, missing the weather report that everyone else was aware of. Watching the heavy raindrops smack against the pavement, I contemplate how I’m getting home.

Should I make a run for it? A run for 30 minutes? Yeah, that’s not happening. I could call a taxi. But I’m not going to pay for that so no.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot,” I say quietly to myself, or so I thought.

“Jeez, that’s a little harsh don’t you think.” a beautiful deep voice says.

Startled I turn my head quickly to be met with what I could have sworn was a literal angel in disguise as a twenty-something-year-old boy. The tall boy looks away from the rain and towards me. He gives me a quick look over and sees my empty hands and smiles.

“Ah! You don’t have an umbrella. You didn’t watch the news?” he asks. I shake my head to answer him.

He smirks and nods his head while looking back out at the downpour.

“Maybe you are an idiot.” He says all too casually while shrugging, clearly teasing me.

“Hey!” I scoff out with a laugh, finally speaking.

“I mean, today is one of the worst days we are supposed to get this year! How can you not have an umbrella or at least a hood?” He laughs out loud, gesturing his hand at me from head to toe.

His laugh and my current predicament both cause me to join in. Once we both settle down the dark-haired boy looks at me with round eyes still slightly crinkled from laughter although nothing but kindness is present in them.

“How far do you live from here?” he asks with a melodic voice and an endearing head tilt to match it.

Upon first look, he may seem like someone with an edge to them; dark-coloured clothes, piercings and some tattoos. But it is ever present that there is an apparent softness to him, one that accompanied by his calm demeanour is pouring a level of comfort over me that I can not explain.

“30 minutes that way,” I point out the way to my home, “Pretty close to Bam's House Cafe.”

“Hmm, I’m headed the same way, so it looks like you're a lucky idiot.” He says shooting me a wink while opening his umbrella held in his tattooed hand.

“Gee thanks, but I’d feel more lucky if you’d stop rubbing my idiocy in my face.” I chuckle.

“I would call you by name if you told me it.” He says with a slight, dare I say flirtatious smirk that causes my breath to get stuck in my throat.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, I’m Jungkook. The handsome, well-prepared gentleman escorting you through this storm today.” He sends me a beaming smile that almost sends me to my grave.

He holds out the clear vinyl plastic for me to stand under it. I do just that and as I step close to him, arms brushing I'm hit with his clean fresh scent.

“Thank you again, Jungkook," I reply looking down to hide my sudden blush.

"Shall we get going?” He asks flicking his head out to the direction I earlier pointed out, and with a nod of my head, we step out starting on our journey to my home. And so much more.  

the voice that responds when you call.

The ringing in my ears finally stops when I hear the voice on the other end of the phone say, “Hello?”

But it is no surprise to me, knowing he would answer because Jungkook always did. I knew once he saw my name flash across his screen he would not hesitate to slide to answer.

“Hey.” my voice is small when I reply.

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately concerned, because just like how Jungkook always answers, he always knows. He knows you.

“I just miss you, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“I know I miss you too. But I’ll be back in two days.”

“Ugh! That’s going to feel like forever.” a whiny sadness to my tone.

“Hey, I told you you could come with me. My mom is still upset I didn’t bring you.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, I know but taking a trip to Busan is not an option with work right now.” I sigh.

I hear him sigh as well and there is a long pause between us.

“Then quit your job.” He states in an all too serious tone.

“What? Jungkook have you lost your mind? You know I can’t qu-“

“Sure you can! I’ll quit my own too! Then we can move out here and buy a house. We can live by the water and have a bunch of kids, it will be perfect.” His tone gets more excited as he hears my giggles pleased with my happiness.

“So what do you say, babe? Sounds good right?” he asks still joking.

“Sounds perfect,” I reply with a content smile.

And just like that you were no longer sad because Jungkook knew how to make you happy. Jungkook always knew.

the memories of seeing the same thing at the same time.

It was Monday, and although I was not as fond of it as any other person towards that day of the week, I had one thing to look forward to on Mondays. That was the one day of the week Jungkook would meet me at work and we would walk home together.

So here we are walking through the park, which was a shortcut to our home. My hand in his, fingers interlocked this being the beckon of light at the end of my work day. I feel him rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand and I glance at him to see him just looking off into the distance. My usually chatty boyfriend is now just quietly at my side. I use my free hand and pull him by the elbow holding him close to my side, gaining his attention eyebrows raised in question.

“Rough day?” I ask looking up at him.

He breathes out an airy laugh through his nose.

“Yeah you know, just one of those days.” He glances back at me with a small shrug then continues.

“It was one of those days I wished I was just with you at home, just had you beside me,” he squeezes my hand  “Only me and you, the rest of the world blocked out.”

He looks down at me and softly smiles that eye smile I could never fall out of love with.

“I wish for that every day” I reply returning the squeeze to his hand while smiling up at him.

While we share this moment I notice small white flakes landing on his raven-coloured hair. He must have taken notice too as we both look up.

We are met with flurries quickly floating down all around us making their way to the ground.

“The first snowfall.” He states almost in a whisper.

“It's so pretty,” I say fascinated and fully entranced with the beauty of Mother Nature.

I feel his gaze on my face and turn to make eye contact. He has the most delicate look, eyes filled with adoration.

“I may not have had you by my side all day, but I’m glad I have you here right now.” He says lovingly.

And at that moment, witnessing the beginning of a new season with my love and sharing this memory, I could have sworn the rest of the world was blocked out and it was just us two.

the first time you matched each other’s pace.

Angry.

No, that’s not even the right word, enraged. Yes, enraged that is what I am feeling right now. And why was I so mad you ask? My boyfriend seemed to think that a guy having a friendly conversation with me, albeit a drunken one on his part but innocent, was the perfect reason to cause a huge scene in the middle of a party with all our friends and more to see.

So now here we are walking home furious with one another because I think he overreacted while he thinks I underreacted. Not only am I annoyed with him for how he acted but now I’m annoyed with myself for wearing heels knowing I would have to walk home after a whole night in them.

My pace starts to get slower because my feet start killing me and it suddenly feels like Jungkook is running a marathon instead of walking home. I glance up and see the distance between his back and me getting bigger and bigger. I focus on trying to ignore the pain soaring through my feet and as I continue walking with my head down staring at the shoes I have come to despise I suddenly bump into a shoulder.

I look up to my side and notice the man that was ahead of me seconds ago now right beside me.

“If you can’t keep up just say so,” he grumbles, the first words I hear from him since we left the party.

I notice how he starts walking slower for me and does not move an inch further from my side. I continue my struggle to walk, feet pulsing more with every step.

“Ah fuck it,” I mumble to myself as I take off my heels.

Jungkook halts and turns towards me once he notices I stopped walking. Once I start to continue I feel my heels being ripped out of my hands, as I'm about to ask what he’s doing he kneels in front of me, wordlessly telling me to get on his back.

“Kook, you don’t-“

“Get on.” He quietly demands.

I don’t argue because my feet yell at me not to. I get on his back, arms around his neck and he tucks his hand under my knees immediately standing up with ease and continues our journey home.

“I told you not to wear those damn shoes.” He says after a couple of minutes.

For some reason that comment brings a slight smile to me, as I realize that my anger has disappeared without me even being aware.

“Thank you,” I say into his neck as I tighten my arms and lock my ankles around his torso hugging him closer to me.

He adjusts his hands to my thighs as I pull us closer together.

“For what?” he questions taking a peek at me.

“For trying to take care of me before and still taking care of me now,” I answer giving his neck a peck.

“You know I’ll always do that, it’s my job too. A little fight won’t stop that, taking care of you comes naturally to me now.”

“I mean it kind of has to look at our situation right now.” he continues with a breathy laugh as he squeezes my thighs to emphasize his statement.

I giggle at his response knowing the truth behind it. Jungkook has always taken care of me. We’ve always looked out for each other. We have always matched ourselves to each other.

did someone come to mind?

I hear the lock of the front door opening and the jingling of keys, followed by some rustling around, most likely the removal of outerwear. A few seconds later I see the handsome tattooed man I call my boyfriend walking into our living room. He smiles as he sits beside me on the couch wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. I look up at him head on his shoulder and begin to stare unconsciously as thoughts run around my head.

“What?” he asks me with a confused chuckle.

I smile at him, “I love you.”

He gives me that butterfly-inducing eye smile and kisses me on the lips.

 “I love you too.”

yes, that’s the person.

[rafelandia]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Rafe x fem!reader): Chapter One

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N is new to the island and Rafe seeks asylum in the bar she works at.

Author's Note: Hello! Wanted to say thank you for all of the love on my last few writings. The idea of Rafe not realizing he's falling in love, especially with someone he shouldn't, is so personal to me and honestly what made me create this blog in the first place - so here we go! This will be somewhat of a slow burn, friends-to-lovers-ish piece and I can't wait to hear what you all think! Likes and reblogs are obviously welcomed as well as any requests or questions (related to this fic or otherwise - I love drabbling about this man and will write about anything). Enjoy!

It was a rainy night when she first saw him. She was wiping down the counter top with a slightly mildewed rag when the door chime rang, signaling his entrance. He settled into the barstool furthest from the door, almost as if he was hiding from something. Prior to just now, she had been alone in the shitty, oceanside bar that threatened to capsize any day now. She liked it better this way, empty and quiet. Could play her own music, move at her own pace, even close up a little early if she got lucky.

She noticed immediately that he seemed out of his element, like he knew he shouldn't be here. Although she'd only moved here a few months ago, she'd gotten quite good at deciphering pogues from kooks. This man was no pogue. He'd tried to disguise himself - toned arms adorned in a knitted sweater covered in tiny beads of the salty rain. His jeans were tattered, but not from being worn out and washed a million times; like they were manufactured precisely to look like they'd been through hours of tough labor and dirt. What ultimately gave it away was his watch - she'd never seen metal reflect that brightly even in the shitty, yellow glow of the overhead lamps that hung above her. It had to be worth a good chunk of change.

He looked exhausted, stressed, tired, something like that. She knew that feeling. It had been hard starting over here on the island. It had been 3 months since she'd moved into the quaint townhouse further inland, away from most of the liveliness of the city. Making friends had proved to be quite difficult and she'd only just now managed to afford the sofa for her living room that she wanted.

She wasn't sure why, but she was nervous to approach him. He seemed important. Or intimidating at the very least, she wasn't sure. She walked quietly towards him, afraid to even disturb him with her footsteps. Baby blue eyes reach hers before she can greet him.

"Whiskey," he breaks the silence, fingers tapping on the warped wood of the bar top, "Neat."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she offered him an empathetic smile and nod before turning to face the wall of liquor that lined the shelves.

"You seem out of place," she pointed out, her fingers wrapping around the thick glass bottle to remove the stopper.

"What makes you say that?" the man inquired, eyes pointed down and looking at the rings of water stains from all of the patrons that came here before him.

"Not that hard to tell. You keep bouncing your leg up and down like you're about to pounce and while you seem unassuming in that outfit, I can tell that that sweater is pretty expensive. Maybe it's the cologne, kinda hit me in the face as soon as you walked in. Could be the watch, too. I'm no expert but I think -"

"Okay, I get it," he cut her off with a chuckle as she slid his poison of choice towards him, "Kook caught in pogue territory."

She takes note of the disingenuous look on his face. He seemed to stiffen in his seat.

"You know I only moved here a couple of months ago, but I've noticed you people are obsessed with choosing sides," she thinks aloud, "Why the need to be so divisive?"

He chewed on her words while the thick, amber-colored nectar sloshed between his cheeks.

"Don't know honestly. You raise a fair question," he leans back in the stool, arm moving to drape across the one next to him.

She tried not to stare while she continued to wipe down the rest of the bar. Really, she should leave him alone she thinks. God only knows what kind of power this man holds and what he could do. Who was she to pry?

"Why did you come here to hide, then?" she asked. Fuck it.

The sun-kissed, stoic man across from her inhaled deeply through his nostrils and exhaled through his lips, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

She thinks she's made a royal mistake before, surprisingly, he answers.

"Just wanted to go somewhere where people don't ask questions," he stated, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before focusing back to his drink that was nearing its end.

Heat crept up to her ears and her stomach turned in embarrassment.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."

Her attention diverted back to her closing duties - refilling cocktail napkins and changing over the cooler filled with cut up fruits.

"It's alright," the man smiled as his fingers circled the rim of his glass, "Kinda nice to talk to someone that doesn't need something from me or needs me to fix something."

He notices the way her lips turn down slightly. She felt bad for him.

"You said you just moved here?" he continued.

"Y-yeah. Back in the spring," she stuttered, a sigh of relief taking over when she realized she hadn't ruined his evening.

"Where are you staying?"

"Um, bit of a commuter. I live a few miles inland so I think that marks me safe from the kooks and pogues war," she toyed.

He laughed at her, chest rising and falling with each chuckle.

"Guess it does. You liking it so far?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his words.

"It's alright. I mean, I've always loved the beach and the place I found was pretty cheap. Just wanted to get out of where I was before and see what sticks I guess."

The man nods in agreement, silently pondering what it would be like if he did the same. He'd had the impulse so many times. Just pack up and leave. But he's not that bold he thinks. A part of him is scared he won't mean anything to anyone if he steps foot off of Figure Eight.

"Seems nice. You on your Rumspringa or something?"

The woman standing across from him laughed loudly, caught off guard by his jest. Her cheeks flushed and glowing in the dingy lighting of the bar. They really needed to change the bulbs on the overheads.

"Something like that."

He's laughing at his own joke, relishing in the fact that he's made her smile. He's not sure why, but her laugh latches onto him, like the warm sun that bakes his shoulders on a hot and sunny afternoon. He likes it.

"It's really not all that bad at the end of the day," the man says in earnest, "Aside from the...societal tensions, for lack of a better word. It's a really beautiful island."

She's staring at him now. Initially, and shamefully, she'd assumed he was a prick. His kind had stumbled into this bar on occasion and they usually weren't very nice or talkative. They'd run up a tab, speak loudly and vulgarly about a business partner or a girl for hours before stumbling out of the door without tipping. But he seemed different. Like he'd been longing for a conversation that wasn't about closing a deal or for someone to genuinely just ask him how he was. There was something so human behind the eyes of someone you'd expect to be anything but.

"It is," she agreed, smiling at him sweetly, "You need another?"

He hadn't even realized his drink was empty.

Just before he could answer yes, the chime of a cell phone pierced the walls of the bar.

"Sorry," the man huffed, pulling the sleek, black phone from the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of his stool.

His eyes grew heavy and he sighed when processed the contents of the message, hands moving to run across the lower half of his face in frustration.

"I actually gotta head out," he seemed disappointed when he spoke, now reaching for his wallet that was tucked away in the same pocket. "Is it always this dead in here?"

"More or less," she answered, "It's nice having the place to myself sometimes."

He grinned as she took his card from him. As she walked to the register, she glanced quickly at the name embossed on the plastic. Rafe Cameron.

"I bet," Rafe agreed. "Hard to find that around here these days. Guess I'll add it to my list of hiding spots."

The woman smiled coyly as she slid the clipboard towards him, card, pen, and receipt attached to the hinges.

"You know," she started, "We usually close the patio at 7, but if you ever need some quiet I won't tell anyone."

His eyes locked with hers for a brief second before moving to the receipt, signing his name with an unrecognizable scribble before standing up to redress himself with his coat. He smirked down at his feet, a hint of bewilderment taking over. Why was she being so nice to him? he thought.

He pressed his lips together, pretending to lock them with an imaginary key and patting his chest. Her "secret" was safe with him.

"Have a good rest of your night, Rafe Cameron," she said with a grin.

She's met with a similar smile, a slight dimple forming on the left side of his cheek.

"You too..," Rafe's eyebrow turning up in question.

"Y/N."

He nodded, feet trailing towards the dry rotted front door that inched towards collapse each time it swung on its hinges.

"Have a good night, Y/N," he stated before ducking out of the bar and back into the cool drizzle of the rain.

She went on about her night, grabbing Rafe's glass and placing it in a carton to be hauled off to the dishwasher in the back. Assuming that the rain had scared off any future customers, she decided to close up early and head home to her furry friend that was probably begging for some cuddles and neck scratches.

As she was balancing the drawer in her register, she looked at Rafe's receipt. He'd tipped her triple the cost of the whiskey. Chuckling silently to herself, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. Someone by law of the land she should probably be weary of, Y/N thought she wouldn't mind having someone like Rafe Cameron around.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)

Part 2 here.

Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[gojo-mochi]

Dear Softy 💐 I come to humbly (&on my knees) ask for any sort of continuation to the 5 times nanami was sorry piece. I'm not a rereader, but I've read yours so many times I lost count, and nothing else hits the same. :(

HAHA Thank you for continuing to enjoy that fic <3 I still think it's one of my best works, so I'm glad someone likes it that much.

This part wont have reader in it! It set in before reader and Nanami had sex. But from Nanami POV now. So you get to see a little bit more from his mindset and what he’s like out of work hehe.

Part of this fic 5 Times with Nanami...

Satoru changed the group name to “The Skibidi Squad”

Suguru: … do I even want to ask

Ieiri: I’m too tired to even change it back, whatever

Yu: I saw some people in last night’s game say that in chat! 

Ieiri: Yu stop playing those games with Gojo and Geto, it's bad for your brain and mental health tbh

Yu: :c 

Suguru: Hey! Don’t lump me in with Satoru like that, we would have won that game if we didn’t have a monkey for a jungler…

Satoru: Alright, now that I gathered everyone here… (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Ieiri: You didn’t gather anyone.. This is a group chat

Satoru: ANYWAY! I have serious news that need addressing right NOWW 

┬─┬ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)

Suguru: I’ll bite, what is it

Satoru: I know you already bite ( •̀ω•́ )σ

Ieiri Kicked Satoru out of “The Skibidi Squad” 

Suguru Added Satoru back to “The Skibidi Squad”

Ieiri: Of course you would

Suguru: If I didn’t I would had to deal with him whining about it for hours

Satoru: First off, Rude. Secondly, NANAMIN HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND HE DIDN’T TELL US ( ≧Д≦)

Yu: :0

Ieiri: We know

Suguru: ^^ Technically not his girlfriend yet I think, but she’s pretty cute

Satoru: You guys all knew and didn’t tell me??!?! Traitors! 凸(｀0´)凸

Shoko: I knew because Nanami asked me advice on what kinda cologne girls would prefer

Suguru: I saw him ordering more than usual at the bakery and it was easy to put 2 and 2 together ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yu: I didn’t know :c

Satoru: Haibara, it’s you and me against the world (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Nanami: …

Satoru: Well, well, well… the traitor finally shows up

Nanami left “The Skibidi Squad”

Satoru: WAITIIITSKDJF

Satoru: WHA- HE BLCOKED ME SOMEONE ADD HIM BACK

Ieiri: Yu don’t add him back

Yu: Oki! C:

Satoru: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nanami sighs to himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. Silencing his phone and pocketing it as he walks on forward. He was already close to his destination and didn’t need to look at the map anymore or be spammed by Gojo’s annoying pestering. A quick turn into a shady alleyway, and Nanami was soon greeted by the neon lights welcoming sign of a bar called “The Devil’s Chainsaw”, an odd name with an even odder bartender. 

Shoko liked coming to this bar though, and this is where he agreed to meet with her tonight, so he had no complaints as long as the alcohol was good. As Nanami stepped inside the bar, he was instantly met with the smell of cigarettes. Shoko peered over to him; she was sitting at the end of the bar, dressed in slacks and a dark sweater. She waved him over with a hand as she finished her conversation with the bartender. 

The redheaded bartender looked over to Nanami as he took the seat next to Shoko; her strikingly odd eyes were a stark contrast to her soft, dulcet voice. 

“What can I get for you, sir?”

"Just a whisky sour would be fine.”

The bartender nods and leaves the two to converse among themselves. Shoko lightly taps Nanami’s knee with her hand and smiles at him. 

“So, Lovebird, how’s the seducing going?”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitches at that, and he turns to look at Shoko with a withering stare. Which she paid no mind to, just taking a long drag of her cigarette, waiting for his answer. 

The bartender comes back with two drinks for them, a whiskey sour and a black russian. Nanami takes his drink and gulps down half of it, his heart feeling unusually tight tonight. 

“Don’t call me that, and I’m not sure how the... seducing is going.”

His tongue rolls over the word “seducing” like it was a foreign language to him. Shoko hums in response, swirling her drink softly as she leans back in her chair. The light jazz music fills in the silence between them, a comfortable silence that these two were used to. No annoying laugh or taunts from a certain white-haired man to dampen the mood. 

After a while, Shoko spoke up one more, with a question that had been on her mind for a while now. 

“So, tell me, what was it about her that made you fall in love with her?” 

Nanami jumped a little in his seat, feeling his ears burn at the question. He calls the bartender down for another drink and slams down the rest of his drink before even thinking about an answer. 

Once his new drink comes in, he takes a hard swig and sighs deeply. Looking down at his drink instead of Shoko so as not to feel embarrassed while remembering the story of why he fell in love with you.  

Flashback cutscene woooosh

It was back during a very important work event—a collaboration with a different company right before Christmas. Everyone was praying on this event going well to secure the deal with this company and go back home with a smile and a big fat holiday bonus. And Nanami was appointed to lead this event—to greet all the higher-ups, plan the itinerary, and basically do all the work. 

Everything was riding on Nanami’s shoulders, all the pressure from not only his bosses but his fellow coworkers as well. Even just a tiny slip-up will make everyone turn to him with disdain in their eyes. At least, that was what Nanami felt like at the time; he needed to make this event work and make everyone happy, at the cost of his own sanity. 

And with little to no sleep, countless nights planning the event down to each second, and a fake happy-go-lucky attitude he put on, the work event went amazingly. Everyone was happy, toasting and drinking the night away. Nanami managed to sneak away during all the merriment, stumbling his way to a nearby park and slouching down on a bench. All the tension in his body still wounding up his insides as he takes off his glasses and throws an arm over his eyes.

Ignoring everything around him, just wanting a moment of peace for himself for once. To throw away his mask for this brief moment where no one’s watching. The bench underneath him was hard on his back, but Nanami ignored it, focusing on the surroundings around him instead, the wind brushing past the trees, the rustling sounds of leaves, and the smell of frost in the air.

Just being in a suit did little to combat the chill, but Nanami couldn’t be bothered to go back inside right now; he was gonna risk being sick over having to do small talk again. He huddled his jacket as close as he could to his body and pretended he wasn’t shivering a little from the cold. Laying his head sideways on the wooden bench with his knees bunched up to his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to to will himself into a slumber. 

Sleep overtook him like a haunting lullaby; the weight in his shoulders still ache, the wind never slowed down, but soon the chills and the murmurs of the air around him felt almost comforting in a way. 

Nanami didn’t know how much time had passed by the time he woke up, but he knew something was off, though. His head was resting on something much softer than a wooden board; he felt warm and cozy, and even his shoulder’s pain had lessened somehow. 

He groaned and shifted his head around to see what was happening around him. He was still in the same park he fell asleep in; he shifted around again when he heard a noise coming from right above his head. He blinks away his grogginess, trying to see what was in front of him. 

“Nanami-san?”

A voice calls out to him in a soft tone, so pure and sweet to his ears that he almost wants to close his eyes and fall asleep again while listening to it. 

“Nanami-san, are you alright?” 

Nanami grunts in response, knowing that he shouldn’t be falling asleep again, especially in front of a stranger, no matter how angelic he finds their voice. His eyes adjusted back to normal finally, and he found himself looking up at not a stranger, but his coworker. 

“L/N-san?”

He rasps out, finding his throat and lips to be dry, he reaches to rub at his throat. You also reach out, placing the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to feel for a fever. Nanami leans in to your palm, almost feeling disappointed when you pull away; you don’t notice anything, though. 

“You don’t seem like you have a fever… Are you feeling alright? You were gone for a bit, and I got worried. The others told me not to worry, but I came to check anyway.” 

Nanami didn’t respond, causing you to worry even more; he was just staring at you with a quizzical look in his eyes. You reach out to him again, calling his name in a soft tone, which makes Nanami's eyes shoot wide open. With his senses flooding back into him all at once, Nanami realizes a few things. 

One, that he actually did fall asleep in a random park with no fear for his safety on a cold winter night. Two, not only did he decide to sleep in a random park, he also did it during a large celebratory party for his company, without saying a word about leaving to anyone at the party. And lastly, he was resting his head on the very soft lap of his coworker in the middle of the night. 

As much as he wanted to jump up and run away and forget about this embarrassing moment. Nanami calmly sat up, looked down, and realized that you had given him your jacket, returned said jacket to you, and got up from the bench. 

Facing away from you, so you don’t see the blush covering his face, Nanami thanks you for coming to check on him. 

“Thank you, L/N-san, for the jacket and everything.” 

You got up from the bench as well, putting your jacket back on and going to stand next to Nanami. 

“Of course! I still seriously can’t believe no one else wanted to come find you. Honestly…” You huff and shake your heads, remembering how everyone brushed your concerns off back at the party. 

“Still, are you sure you’re alright, Nanami-san? This wasn’t like the usual you, you know?” You pause and shuffle on your feet for a bit before saying the next part. 

“Ah, sorry if that was too personal of me to say. This event was a really huge deal for us, and I want to say thank you.” You turn to face him with a bright smile and a soft blush on your face. 

“Thank you for working so hard for us, Nanami-san. I-..we really appreciate it, and I hope you know that.” 

Feeling a tinge awkward for saying that, you immediately turned back around and started heading back to the hotel first, waving back to Nanami, telling him not to stay in the cold for too long. 

Nanami stood there in that spot for a while after you left, his brain etching every single word that came out of your lips, how your hair looked, the colors of your lips, the scent of your perfume. It was like Cupid came and stuck him in his heart at that very moment. Nanami never heard praise for doing a good job before; it wasn’t like he needed it; at least he thought he didn’t. The results should be enough for Nanami and everyone to be happy. But seeing your bright smile and your kind words being directed at him, that changed something in Nanami that night. 

Flashback end :) 

“Helloooo? Earth to Nanami?”

Shoko’s voice shakes Nanami out of his head. She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. 

“Are you gonna tell me the reason why you like this chick now or what?”

Nanami smiles to himself, swirling around his drink in his hand and simply said. 

“She has a cute smile, that’s all.”

[topazy]

Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader, Rick Grimes x sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 4.08

Your feet were aching, and the lack of sleep from the past few days was catching up with everyone, including Jace, who was starting to cry. You would need to stop walking soon to feed him; he was becoming too heavy to feed and carry at the same time, with most of his weight pressing onto one shoulder.

When a concert watch tower comes into view, you let out a sigh of relief, “We should stop here for a little bit.”

“No, we need to keep going.”

Glenn was so focused on finding Maggie he wasn’t taking anyone else into consideration. You understand why he wants to keep going, but you’d need to stop for a break at some point. Everyone stops walking aside from Glenn and Tara.

“Hold up!” Abraham shouts after them. “We’re stopping here. Tired is slow, and slow is dead.”

“It’s barely noon.”

“I don’t give a monkey's left nut. None of us has slept more than a couple hours straight since we went all Casey Jones. This place looks safe.” Seeing Glenn’s reluctance, Abraham sighs. “I get, you have to find her, but Rosita and I have a mission too. We’ve got to get that man to Washington. Plus, your friend looks like she could use a rest; no offense.”

“None taken. But he’s right, Glenn. A few hours of rest will do us all the world of good. I don’t want you passing out again.”

A walker suddenly falls from the top of the watch tower and nearly lands on top of Tara. Abraham pushes her out of the way before stabbing it in the head, but she slides forward on the mud and hits her knee on the ground.

Rosita rushes over to help her up, but Glenn beats her to it. “Do you want to stop or keep going?”

“No, keep going. I’m good.”

He seems satisfied with that answer. “Look, if she can keep going, then we can all keep going. Or you guys can stay here. We don’t need you, and you don’t need us.”

“Glenn!”

Rosita shakes her head at him, “wow, you’re an ass. Tara will do whatever you say because she thinks she owes you. Man up. Stay here for a few hours.”

You and Tara hadn’t exchanged words since you confessed what happened to her girlfriend, but watching the brunette slowly limp towards the train tracks made you furious. “Glenn, Tara can barely walk. What happens if walkers catch up with you? She needs to rest.”

“We’ll do what we always do and fight them off.”

“These people saved us when we needed them. The least we can do is wait a couple of hours, at least until Tara isn’t limping.” Your lips press into a thin line; you could tell by his facial expression he was desperate to argue against what you’ve just said. “I need to feed Jace; do what you want, Glenn, but I’m staying here until everyone is able to walk.”

He looks genuinely hurt. “We can’t split up after everything we’ve been through.”

—

After breaking for roughly two hours, everyone is more alert after testing their feet and having a few slices of fruit from a tin that you shared. Jace was no longer crying, and Tara wasn’t limping.

You reach a tunnel on the tracks that had another message from Maggie telling Glenn to keep going.

“I don’t like the look of this.” The inside of the tunnel was pitch black, and in the distance you could hear the faint sound of walkers snarling. “There needs to be another way; this is too dangerous. We have no idea what’s inside there.”

“We could walk around it,” Rosita suggests.

“No, that will take at least a day. If Maggie went through it, then I’m going through it. We’re close.”

“Shut up a second,” Abraham says, pointing out the sound of walkers. “You hear that? That there is a long, dark tunnel full of reanimated corpses. I don’t have full-on certainty that I can get Eugene through there alive.”

“I’m with Abraham; I’m not taking Jace in there. If he cries, we’ll be surrounded and will never get out. I’m going to take the extra day to go around the tunnel safely.”

“Maggie is waiting for us on the other side; she’s your friend,” Glenn snaps, the frustration of his desperation showing.

“Yeah, Maggie is my friend, and Jace is my son. She would want me to prioritize him.

“I need to go to her.”

“I get it; I really do, but I need to think about what’s best for him.” You hug Glenn, “I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

Knowing there was no point in arguing with him, Abraham opens his pack back and takes out a few cans of food and gives them to Glenn. Tara steps forward, “I’ll go with you.”

Glenn seems uncertain, almost emotional about what to do. “Y/n, please come with me. We can make it through; our people will be waiting on the other.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

You share one more look before him and Tara disappear into the tunnel. Your throat starts to tighten as tears well in your eyes. You didn’t want to lose Glenn as well, but both of you would do what you thought was right. Forcing a smile, you wipe your eyes and turn to face the others. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways if you guys are going back for that truck we passed.”

“No,” Abraham places his hand on your arm. “What you told Tara takes balls. I can respect that. We could use someone like you to get Eugene to Washington, but I know you need to find your people first.”

“So…?”

“We’re going to help you find them,” Rosita smiles. ”

—

“Ma’am, I don’t think he likes me.”

You laugh seeing Eugene holding Jace so awkwardly. He only needed to hold for a minute so you could redo your laces that have become undone, but Jace wasn’t happy about it. Abraham and Rosita were sitting on rocks, watching in amusement.

“Mommy.”

Jace holds his arms out for you to take him again; his cheeks flush red from upsetting himself. Just as you go to take him, you hear rustling in the bushes and snaps of branches. You listen for a few more seconds and realize it’s coming from behind you. Spinning on your heels, you raise your gun and point it at the person standing behind you.

“Sasha…”

You put your gun pack into its holster and pull her into a hug.

“Sasha?”

“Bob, Maggie!” She yells, “Y/n and Jace are alive.”

—

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Eugene asks uncertainty. Abraham went back for the truck you passed, but instead of going in the opposite direction, he used it to drive into the tunnel to go after Glenn and Tara. Since Eugene was a terrible shot had one job, and that was to hold Jace inside the truck.

“Just don’t drop him!”

You slam the door shut and then start firing at the walkers that Glenn and Tara are surrounded by.

Once the walkers are down, Tara comes over to you and squeezes your good shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it; you’re one of us now, and that’s what we do. We save each other.”

—

After spending the night camping out in the tunnel, you make it through to the opposite side by midday. When the place you have been searching for comes into view, you almost struggle to believe it’s real. “This place looks like a fortress.”

Terminus looks like it was once a warehouse, but now it has been turned into a community. It had small, flourishing gardens scattered across the outside of it.

Abraham nudges you with his elbow, “Do you think your brother is in there?”

“I hope so.”

“I left more messages telling our people where to find us,” Maggie says. “If you guys saw it, I’m sure they will as well.”

[insert-something-funy-here]

PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT

This is part 2!! Part three is in the works!!

Part 1 || Part 3

I hope yall know it makes me so happy to know people are interested in this HEHEHEGRHEJHEGEHRGR,,,,

Anyway, enjoy!!!

What a wholesome moment.

A ship kept safe by its anchor, the ocean nourished by the sand it wears at. But there’s a storm rolling in, one that will force its light upon this resonant scene. 

Steps echo in the alley, a slow clap accompanied by thunderous laughter. 

“Wonderful job my beautiful creation! I expected nothing less of you!” Shocked expressions made they way to Medkit’s and Biograft’s faces upon hearing Subspace’s voice. 

Anxiety greets them both in Subspace's presence, for one it's an old friend, and the other, it's something entirely new. "What? Did you really think I didn't know know this would happen?" He sighs, good thing this experiment has served it's purpose. "You've changed from how I designed you, and look at how you've been dulled."

"I knew Meddy would never let me close to him outside of a phight, but then you presented me a new experiment to run! As tough as he may act, I know he feels some guilt. Enough to see you at least." Even with his mask and eyepatch, it was easy to see Subspace’s smile. Finally, after spending so long trying find Medkit, he would get his chance at vengence. "Come now my dear creation, help me finish this, and we'll-"

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?" Some defiance was to be expected with this. Allowing this variable to grow within him. But he's being led astray, and I have a parently duty to pull him back. "I was fine with a little disobedience, it served a purpose, but it seems you've strayed too far from my brilliance." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a remote. He sighs, "It's alright though, because unlike that man there, I can fix you!"

That remote. One of the emergency shut downs for Biografts. This one specifically was made for gen## Zeta Biografts. In Subspaces mind, Blackrock could handle the hit in security for a bit. Anyone who's worth something has a personal Biograft not connected to any of the servers one of those remotes would shut down anyway. And with one press, Biograft fell apart, "Well, isn't this familiar?" His laughter brought back memories, and it was sickening. Medkit felt himself back in that SFoTH forsaken lab, back against the wall, a deer in the headlights.

Though Biograft had fallen apart, there was a few seconds before his software finished shutting down. In these precious moments he saw a version of himself standing before him.

"Leave."

"If I do that we'll be back where we started."

"We're not the same anymore. You've changed your directive. Follow it before he makes you like us again."

A slight pause. "You're not yourself either."

"I'm surprised your body is still holding up." A desperate attempt at keeping composure.

"You didn't do that much to me!!" Evidence of how he's failing. "Him on the other hand," He looks at the fallen Biograft and back up Medkit. He steps forward, using mist walk, he clears the distance before Medkit could react. Biograft was supposed to be here to help, but perhaps Medkit watching his last chance at some sort of temporary catharsis die will put him at enough of a disadvantage.

Grabbing him by his tie Subspace shoves him into the wall, "Brings back memories doesn't it? Don't worry, you won't have to remember for much longer!" His other hand hovering dangerously close to Medkit’s last eye. Subspace's freezes for a moment, feeling Medkit’s revolver against his chest, and begins laughing. "What do you think you're going to accomplish with that, hmm? You use that to heal people remember? It's the only reason you keep it after all-"

"What do you know?" His grip tightened, "These bullets can end lives as quick just as they can save them."

"Oh please," Subspace moves his freehand to grip Medkit’s gun, "If you had the strength for that," he pulls it closer, "you would've shot me already."

In flash of teal light, Subspace is on the ground and Medkit has been freed. A familiar alarm blares in both their ears. Subspace sits back up and stares in shock, but before he can call out to the newly reformed Biograft, he's already left with Medkit.

"My creation... my once beautiful invention... my son..." it doesn't take long for this Biograft’s absence to eat away at him.

Biograft runs as far as he can, Medkit in his arms. He makes wide jumps across rooftops, no real direction other than away. Away from Subspace, away from his 'siblings', away from Blackrock. He's overheating, he's going to collapse again.

"Go left here."

Which meant they needed somewhere safe to go, and to follow the quickest directions there. Medkit knew somewhere they could stop, the two of them just had to hope Biograft could make it that far.