#ah christ i really tried

[zeddylux]

Allright I have an attempt at something. Keep in mind these are VERY VERY rough but I need to put my drabbles somewhere or I'm going to forget them and my phones all I've got right now 😅. I'm picturing a scene after a fight that ends in a draw. Vi is not in the best mood but she and Gert are talking outside the arena. I'll take constructive criticism but please be gentle I've never done this before 😭😭

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ - Mentions of alchohol abuse, panic attacks, and police brutality. Enjoy!

The sounds and jeers of the arena fade into the background as they walk along the side. Vi caught a glimpse through the slats in the building of some other poor sap standing alone against a massive opponent. Some might call him a fool for standing up to someone he had no chance against. But those same people probably had no inkling of what it took to survive down here. The pits had opened up after the new checkpoints made it nearly impossible for consistent supplies to enter the lanes. Food that had already been scarce became even harder to come by. But if you knew how to fight and a Chem Barron took enough of a liking to you, you could be guaranteed a meal at least. Maybe even a room if you won enough.

Vi tried not to think about her last round of the night. It had ended in a draw and the powers that be would not be happy. If she wanted to keep her shitty room and a roof over her head she had to start winning. And fast.

Gert walked next to her, excitingly talking about a rally taking place the next day. Vi was trying really hard not to think about how pretty she looked under the glow of the moonlight. Trying not to think too much about the blue and pink eye makeup or the blue in her dreads. These days Vi tried really hard not to think about anything really.

"Come on!" Gert says, slinging her arm around Vi's shoulders, "All you do is eat, and sleep and fight! Come to the rally tommorow before your next one! It'll get you in the right headspace and you'll win for sure!"

'Bold of you assume I eat' Vi thinks detjectingly. These days a 6 pack of beer was easier to come by than anything substantial and besides. Anything to take her mind of the last 6 months. Or 7 years. Which ever.

"I already told you I don't want to go. I'm pretty sure one of my ribs is cracked. I need to get some rest before I get back into the pits."

It was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Vi had fought back to back fights with dislocated shoulders, broken wrists, and bruises up and down her entire body. She had long since learned to ignore her own pain. Real and imagined it was no longer really a factor. Vi only cared about survival anymore. She couldn't bring herself to look any further than that.

Gert opens her mouth to retort but before she can a group of enforcers rounds the corner. Both of them immediately tensed and back into the shadows of the arena hoping the ramshackle structure will hide them well enough. It's close to midnight and darkness in the lanes is no laughing matter. Once the smog settles in there's no seeing what's in front of you. Only trenchers, born here their entire lives walking the same streets every single day have a chance in hell of finding their way around once the sun goes down.

Vi puts herself fully in front of Gert as they both watch the enforcers struggle along the docks. It seems like an ordinary patrol squad clad in the black armor of house Kiramman. One of them slips and partially falls into the oily water cursing as his partners laugh quietly at him.

Vi chuckles lightly and mumbles, "Serves you right."

"Shhhhh," Gert says quietly putting her hands on Vi's shoulders, "Don't draw their attention."

The patrol squad eventually moves on to the lower parts of the city. No doubt heading for the brothels and Shimmer dens to find some easy pickings. They had a quota to meet after all.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief and gently grabs Gerts hand. They peel off the wall and step more into the light. She cups the side of Gerts face gently asking, "Ok?"

Gert nods shakily and presses her head to Vi's.

"All good."

They stay like that for a moment just taking solace in each other. Enforcers had always been a terrible presence in both of their lives but never before had they been so aggressive. Ever since Jinx's painted smoke had reminded Piltover of the threat that lurked underneath topside had seemed all the more determined to remind the Lanes who was really in charge. Random frisks and arrests had become all the more common. And there were whispers of Stillwater opening up their torture chambers for the first time. With the absence of councilor Medarda and Jayce what little conscious the council had gained recently had all but vanished. Commander Kiramman had deemed them animals in her relentles search for Jinx. Worthy of neither pity nor mercy.

"There are rumors" Gert said suddenly, anger creeping into her voice. "That Caitlyn's strike team had one of ours. Someone from Zaun leading them down here."

Vi felt a jolt of panic at the bitterness in her voice. Like icy water flowing down her back. 'there's no way for her to know' she thinks frantically, 'I had my mask on until we reached the sewers, and the grey..' Guilt begins to build in her mind, self-hatred mixing with her panic in a way that makes her long for a drink. Trying to keep her voice steady she asks instead

"Thats probably just hearsay. They were all wearing masks nobody would even know what they looked like," she says nervously trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Gert looks at her with a wry smile. "I dont think it's just people talking. They got down here way to quickly and easily for someone who didnt have help. They say the one who lead them had pink hair but nobody got a good look at her face." Venom creeps it her voice as she straightened up to look at the faraway skyscrapers. The lights of Piltover just visible in the distance through the smog, "They say that coward helped Kiramman with the ventilation system. Released this crazy smog called the Grey to poison us." Gert turns to Vi and cracks her knuckles, a cold look on her face. "If I ever get my hands on that traitor, not even her friends up top would be able to save her."

Vi feels the panic begin to build in stomach, her vision briefly blacking out as her breaths turn shakey. She frantically tries to draw in air but it's like it can't reach her lungs. It's a feeling she's become familiar with over the years but now there's no one to turn to. Caitlyn had abandoned and betrayed her. Her sister hated her and Ekko was still missing. And Gert. If she ever found out what Vi had done, who could blame her for walking away too?

Vi leaned heavily against the wall of the arena fighting to catch her breath as images began to flash through her mind. Vander, Powder, Ekko, Milo, Clagger. And Caitlyn. Gods who was left? Vi had always done whatever it took to keep the family together. Sacrificed whole parts of herself, betrayed her people and for what? To end up with no one and nothing.

Gert looks completely taken aback, rushing over to Vi and cupping her face gently.

"Vi! Vi are you ok? What happened?"

But it's too much. Too many things had crowded Vi's mind. Another girl in another life cupping her face like this, back when Vi still had hope that things could still be fixed. That they could go back to the ways things were.

"I, I have to go," Vi said straightening up and gently pushing Gert away ignoring the concern in her eyes. She has to get away before she hurts her. Like she did with Powder. Like she did with Jinx. There's no telling what might happen when she gets like this. "I'll see you at the fights tommorow."

"Vi wait," but Vi's already turned to go.

She leaps down from the ledge they were standing on to the docks below and starts running. Fleeing really, heading for the ramshackle apartments that house the fighters the Chem Barrons deem worthy enough to keep around. She thinks frantically of the brand new bottle of whiskey Loris had gotten for her. Top of the line. "Piltovers finest," she thinks bitterly. She'll have to explain tommorow but for now. She has a date with a bottle of hair dye and another bottle of whiskey. If she plays her cards right maybe she'll get some sleep tonight. And maybe she won't hear the sounds of her sisters laughter ringing in her head.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Sometimes you read a fanfic and you're like oh, this was written by someone who has no experience with suicide but is giving it a damn good try and you just stare at the words, mouth fully agape.

[big-sis-milly]

Mom who grew up in the late 90s/early 2000s and still uses emoticons, ending her texts in O.o's and ಠ_ಠ's, showing you her sketchbooks filled with edgy pseudo-anime style doodles of angel girls and foxes and creepy teddy bears with too many stitches and sharp teeth with a fond, yet equally embarrassed smile on her face.

Mom who finds her old scene outfits while you're out and decides to try some on as a joke, she says they fit surprisingly well, if not a little more snug than she remembers. You come home to find your mom in torn black shorts, a faded Gir t-shirt, as well as fishnets on her arms and legs. Additionally, it's far tighter on her than she realizes herself.

You would never tell her, but your heart began beating like crazy when you saw her like that. She looked absolutely stunning, not to mention dreadfully— alarmingly sexy. In fact, you quickly found yourself very much in need of somewhere to sit down and hopefully hide the scandalous tent growing in your skirt. Still, she seems to have been drinking since before you got home so she's not very attentive anyhow.

Wow, she's hammered tonight. Must be some midlife crisis thing you don't get, not that you're complaining. You should be complaining, but you aren't. There are multiple moments you find yourself ogling your mom, staring at her ass when she bends over or being nearly hypnotized by her tits when she tries to do the caramelldansen. You think you're in for a long night.

After a while she settles down next to you on the couch, watching the show you put on with a loopy half-grin stuck on her face. You forgot how snuggly she gets when she's drunk, but as long as you have your blanket everything should be all right.

Of course, things started to get a lot more stressful when she suddenly placed her head on your lap, nearly pressing her nose right against your girlcock. Uh, did she pass out? That would be the best case scenario, but you can't really be sure from this angle. Plus there's no way you're moving, that could risk unwanted contact with your crotch. But, the thought of your girlcock rubbing up against your mother's face... no, no! You're trying to get out of your head until you hear a long, quiet inhale from your mom. Your heart felt like it stopped when an equally long but much louder moan escaped her lips on the exhale.

You've never heard her make that noise before. You could feel your heart melting into a puddle between your thighs from the sheer sudden eroticism on display, finding yourself less and less concerned about the consequences when her huffing turns into nuzzling. Jesus christ she's literally nuzzling your bulge. She can't still be asleep right?? Is she testing you? Teasing you? Your entire body feels electric, you know you can't stay still forever, especially if she keeps this up. You adjust to try and make yourself at least a little more comfortable, but hear your mom stir awake. Holy shit, was she actually sleeping?!

"Mmmgh, ah, sorry honey, I guess I-" She trails off, seeing how hard you are up close. "Oh."

You try to squirm away while apologizing profusely. How could you let her see that? You're an awful daughter, a perverted loser who can't even-

"No, no no, it's okay! It's okay, you're fine, j-just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me baby?" Your Mom says, desperate and drunk, holding your arms lightly. Her directions to calm you down actually help somewhat, and she lets you scoot away into the corner of the couch so you can cover yourself again.

You and your mom sit there for a while, neither of you sure what to say. Mom eventually clears her throat, looking everywhere but you.

"I think I need to confess a few things, haha." She chuckles jadedly, looking disheveled and red in the face as she reached out to put a hand on your thigh. It makes you jump a little, but the warmth is so comforting, it almost feels right that your mother's touching you this way. But that can't be possible, this has to be wrong, if not... then you could've been doing this for years now. Uh– what? N-no, that's not right...

"Ever since you started hrt, I could tell from your laundry that you began to smell different as a girl. I know I'm an awful mother, but your scent drives me up the fucking wall kiddo. I've tried... I masturbated to your bra a week ago, just to see if it would pass. It only made things worse, so- nggh, fuck, why did you turn out so good~ It's not fair that you're my daughter~"

This is a lot of information she's just dropping on you, the only thing you can do is stare wide eyed behind your pillow. Wait, uh, what does she mean by that last part?

"Ughh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying this, but... you're kinda my type. I've seen the changes during your transition happening day by day and I could tell, even early on, that you'd be absolutely irresistible to any lucky kid who wanted you. It made me jealous. Things would be so much easier if you weren't my daughter." You could see the conflicted look on her face when she said that. You don't know why, but you think you share the exact same feelings. And so you ask:

What if we pretended?

Your mom looks surprised, like she wasn't expecting you to suggest something like that, it's obvious she was a moment away from saying the exact same thing. She scans your expression, the nervous, blushing, beautiful little girl in front of her, just to make sure this is something you want to do in the first place. She can sense the quiet, excited anticipation in your eyes. God, what did she do to have such a wonderful daught- ah, s-stranger! With no relation to her! Yup yup, totally fine, just two non-familial people... Hm...

"If you're okay with that, sure. This'll just be a one time thing, I promise." She says reassuringly. "Just lay back and let mo- let me take care of you. Um, may I?"

You nod, nestling back into the couch a little. Your mother— or, uh, this very nice woman— carefully removes your skirt, letting your gock spring from your panties. She tries not to swoon, but you can see her half-lidded eyes already memorizing every tiny detail.

"Absolutely beautiful." You hear her mutter, her lips just barely brushing against you, breath warm and agonizing until she wraps her mouth around the tip of your girlcock. The way she swirls and flicks her tongue across your glans makes you shudder, the yelp that escaped your throat is cut short by your hand clamping over your mouth.

It feels exquisite, the semi-fancy term fitting due to the obvious experience this woman has performing oral. You don't think you've reached this pitch of moan ever, with anybody. Best not to think about it!

Every noise you make only seems to entice her more, shoving you deeper down her throat with every bob of her head until her nose is touching your tummy, the only thing you're able to do is writhe in place and try not to pull her hair too hard. Doesn't seem like she minds all that much though <3

You let her know through quivering lips that you're about to cum and she relents, albeit begrudgingly. She can't help but smother your gock in sloppy kisses right after, the sensation keeping you frustratingly close to the edge. After a beat she stops suddenly, backing off a little and brushing a few strands of hair over her ear.

"Gosh, I uh, maybe got a little carried away at the end, haha! Sorry sweetpea, my little girl's just too delicious~"

Your face turns even redder, she hasn't used that nickname for years now, she probably thought you grew it of it. You instinctively push your thighs together, whining as you decide whether or not to tell her. Did she even notice she said it in the first place? Maybe you could excuse it if it was an honest mistake? She probably knows what she did anyways, no need to rub it in. It's fine. It's fine! Oh, is she saying something?

"Honey, can I get on top of you?" The woman said, panting and making an expression just short of puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry. I need more. Just a little more, please?"

You barely have time to process what she just said before she's straddling your lap, only her rolled-up shirt and her fishnets remain on her body. Her boobs squish against yours, though she's a lot more developed than you are. The mere touch of her cunt to your gock makes you both jump, but she's not putting it in. She's waiting for you with that same look on her face.

You've found yourself going very far into a decision that could have dire consequences. Despite this, you can't help but lose yourself in her eyes, impatient and pleading, but forcing herself to stay still out of pure love for you. She must really want you, huh? No, she's probably just imagining someone else, it's just your scent she's attracted to right? Yeah, that's all this is. Nothing more. After this one hiccup, everything should go back to normal!

"Baby? Sweetie, a-are you okay?" Your mother's worried voice snaps you out of whatever thoughts you were having, and only then felt your own tears on your face. Why are you crying again? So stupid. You try to convey your thoughts to her, but you not knowing why this is happening yourself isn't helping, not to mention breaking down even further from the overwhelming amount of thoughts swirling about your head.

"God, I knew this was a bad idea," she mutters before returning her attention to you, "I'm sorry babygirl, we can stop, I shouldn't have-"

No, no no no. Finding the courage, you reach out and place a hand on your mother's waist, making her gasp as you lift your hips to meet hers and fully insert yourself into her completely soaked pussy. She latches onto you in surprise, wrapping her arms fully around your head as she pulls you close and practically howls with pleasure, her gorgeous tits smushing against your face. You've never heard your mom moan like that before. Or, no, your- ohh fuck your mom's cunt feels so good~ fuck it, it doesn't matter, you can't hold it back anymore. With your hands roaming every inch of her body, you unbury yourself from her tits and cry into her ear, "Mommyyyy~"

There is an immediate noticeable effect on your mom from the utterance of that word. You feel her tighten up hard, her cute little noises oozing with guilt. "Aah~! N-no sweetpea, we- ghh, have to pretend or, or- ngohh god." She almost sounds frustrated at how flustered it made her, losing her ability to think as you start moving inside her, like her brain cells are being killed with each thrust <3

As you start getting closer and thrusting harder into her, less and less words are spoken, gradually replaced with purely animalistic grunts and moans as you two feverishly rut each other. Of course, aside from the occasional groan of the other's name. Neither of you care about the bullshit façades you desperately tried to put up anymore, you need your mommy and she needs her daughter, more than anything in the entire universe.

Your orgasm quickly sneaks up on you, and it seems like hers is too. As you and your mom start arrhythmicly fucking each other to climax, she meets your gaze, mouth agape and eyes hungry. She kisses you, and you gladly returned the favor. You and your mother plead and whine into each other as you both cum, hard. You're pretty sure you blacked out for a second. It was everything you secretly dreamed of. Neither of you want to leave, so you stay inside her as you and your mom lazily make out on the couch for a while, cum slowly leaking onto your lap.

As you both break the kiss, she nestles into your shoulder, whispering "Thank you, thank you, thank you," over and over again. You can't help but say it back. So many aspects of her remind you of the nervous cringy teen she used to be, but you prefer her like this. Perfect, in every way.

[wonderjanga]

batman keeps trying to put trackers on marvel's costume, but none of it actually comes off, and the parts he can put trackers on are all like, magical, so they break the trackers and he's so mad about it

Bruce has tried so many ways to track Marvel it’s honestly driven him mad.

First he tried looking for the man using CCTV cameras only to realize Fawcett doesn’t have any. Oh no, no no no, he got the grainy, haven’t been used since the 80s, security cameras. So he ends up combing through all of these cameras because of how old they are because he can’t use the software he normally uses to quickly find people. He also had to do this all on his own because Barbara was busy, and none of his other kids wanted to help him because they all like Cap. And then, when he finally finds the Captain…

Batman: *staring at the Batcomputer intently*

Marvel: *standing in an alleyway* “Shazam.”

Batman: *doesn’t understand what he said, because the audio is too crappy to decipher, but doesn’t have enough time to register that as the cameras immediately cut off*

Bruce nearly… What did Tim call it? Ah yes, crashed out. Bruce nearly ended up crashing out over this. But whatever, right? There’s always multiple solutions to a single problem.

So, he then tried a more simple solution: trackers. Small tiny little things no bigger than his pinky finger. He stuck one onto Marvel’s shoulders as the Captain was leaving for the day.

Batman: “Captain. I would like to say that you fought wonderfully today.” *puts hand on Marvel’s shoulder and places the tracker*

Marvel: “You think so? Thanks.” *sunny ahh smile*

Bruce in fact did not think so, but he needed an excuse to touch Marvel’s shoulder. Anyways, the tracker didn’t even last an hour before he got a notification that it was broken, or rather fried, by electricity. Honestly, that might as well have been Bruce’s fault. One of the man’s major powers is electricity for Christ’s sake. So after a bit, he went and upgraded the trackers to now be electrical resistant.

Marvel: *walking to the zetas*

Batman: “Captain, you own a tiger, yes?” *starts walking with him*

Marvel: “Ah, yes, why?”

Batman: “Robin’s been asking about getting a tiger.”

Marvel: “Oh really? You wanna know some tips or something?”

Batman: “If you’d be willing to share, I’d appreciate it.”

Marvel: “Oh, okay then!” *proceeds to yap about tigers the whole was to the zetas*

Batman: *sneakily tacks the electric resistant tracker on him*

Bruce learned a lot about tigers that day. He never seen the man so informative and passionate about a subject other than magic. If only he’d put that same passion into his reports. Seriously, who alternates between their left and right arm on a professional report? At least do it on a piece of scratch paper or something. (This is a reference to post I saw a while ago about Marvel and Billy writing reports together. Because of that, half of the report was in super duper fancy shmancy handwriting and the other was in chicken scratch)

But anyways, back to the second tracker. See, it actually did the opposite of what it was designed to do, which was track and be resistant to electricity. It actually ended up shorting out and therefore losing its ability to track. Bruce now realized he underestimated Marvel’s electricity.

Now onto Bruce’s third attempt. He had the tracker enchanted with magic.

Batman: “Marvel, I’d like to talk to you about Junior.”

Marvel: “Sure? Is he in trouble?” *sounds concerned*

Batman: “No. You see, Robin’s been wanting to have a play date with him.”

Marvel: “Oh uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” *sounds hesitant* “I’ll have to ask him about it:”

Batman: “That’s fine.” *pats his shoulder and plants the tracker* “Get back to me when you’ve both come to a decision.”

Funnily enough, Bruce didn’t even get ten feet away before he got a notification that the tracker was destroyed. Billy felt the magic in the tracker and honest to the gods he thought it was a bug and swatted his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Billy’s confused but happy that Batman has been talking to him so much recently.

Eventually, after much trial and error (47 attempts) Bruce finally got a tracker that worked. He watched on the GPS as Marvel dipped into an alleyway and… dipped off of the face of the earth? He stared at it for a solid minute wondering if he should be concerned. It’s not like Marvel knows he’s been trying to track him. He has no idea how upset the man would be so he waited. Five minutes passed of Bruce waiting for the little dot representing Marvel to reappear. He then couldn’t take it anymore and started spamming Cap’s comm and was about to notify the other JL members until he finally picked up.

Batman: “Captain? Captain, are you there?”

Marvel: “Yeah? Yeah I am Mister Batman Sir? Is something wrong?”

Batman: “The GPS on your comm showed that you disappeared off the map for fifteen minutes.”

Marvel: “Oh really? Well I’m sorry for worrying you, Mister Batman Sir. I just went to the Rock of Eternity. That’s probably why I didn’t appear.

Batman: “What is the Rock of Eternity?”

Marvel: “Oh, it’s this rock that’s the cent- OH SHOOT.” *loud crash comes from his end*

Batman: “Is everything alright?”

Marvel: “Yeah- look I’m sorry but Black Adam’s here and he just threw a building at me. See ya, Mister Batman Sir.”

So yeah. After everything he went through only to come up with no results, Bruce is mad. Rolling in his grave even. The worst part is that he doesn’t even technically have the right to be mad, considering the fact that he was going behind one of his colleagues back’s and trying to track them without their consent. Though to be fair, Bruce did it because you can’t just have somebody that powerful running around and unchecked without a recorded weakness. But what makes him even more mad is that just when he was about to get the slightest semblance of information, a villain ruined it. At least he has a name now. The Rock of Eternity. It’s probably a magic thing that he’ll end up asking Zatanna about. He hates magic.

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

[rodolfoparras]

PLEASEJADGW I AM NEW, SPEAK ABT THE THE SOFT COCK FOR ME AGAIN

Thinking about hooking up with a divorced father whose only company for the past years has been the bear bottles in his fridge.

He’s greedy as ever as he sloppily licks into your mouth, lips tasting of whatever he had at the bar, practically moaning like a little slut while grinding down on your cock. His poor worn out coach is barley able to hold your weight but he couldn’t care less about that as he continues to hump you like some horny teenager.

Everything’s going well or at least you think so and soon you find yourself nestled between his thighs, hands swiftly pulling down his pants along with his boxers, hungrily watching as his cock spills out.

There isn’t much to the size but there’s some girth to his dick, shaft flushed an angry red and tip already weeping from just a little teasing.

Suddenly you find yourself eager as ever to get your mouth around him. However you don’t get much further than that before you feel him go soft in your mouth, with the older man looking absolutely horrified, apologizes rolling off of his tongue as he tries to get out of your grasp “fuck fuck- I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened,”

You don’t respond nor do you loosen your grip leaving the man looking both frazzled and confused where he lays pinned beneath your body. “What are you doing son? Let me go!”

Before he can say or do anything else you sink back down on him again, leaving the man loudly gasping as he bucks up into you “ahah! Fuck!”

As you work your mouth on him, you can’t help but notice how much smaller he feels. Cock fully soft yet so girthy. The weight of it on your tongue leaves you feeling numb but instead of having it be a frigid cold that encomposes your bones it’s a certain warmth that starts from the top of your head and works its way down to your toes.

The man beneath you seems frozen in place, looks at you with wide eyed and mouth agape as if he can’t believe this is happening. “ Jesus Christ You like this huh?” You hear him say but there’s no bite to his words, sounding more in disbelief if anything as his hand tentively cradles your skull.

Instead of responding you take him all the way down, obscene squelching sounds mingling with his whines and whimpers, only fully stopping when you’re buried in the fringe of curls and you got his balls pressed snug against you.

“Okay okay fuck you really like this yeah? Show me ah - show me how greedy you are for this soft cock then,”

Without wasting another second you do as he says,this time going at a much slower pace since your goal isn’t to get him off anymore but rather to feel all of him, and that’s exactly what you do as you bob your head down, mind focused on how hot and velvety he feels under your tongue.

“Fuck just like that, suck this old man’s cock,” he says through gritted teeth, the hand in your hair turning rougher as he yanks on it. “You know my wife never liked it when I got soft, fuck- she ah- she even left because of that but you? God you suck it like you were made for it,”

His words paired with the bitter taste lingering on your tongue makes you hungry for more and before you know of it you find yourself sucking harder, head bobbing erratically and losing yourself in the feeling of him jerking against the roof of your mouth, the way you can easily take more and more and more of his soft cock without chocking up, and the feeling of his spit slicked balls sliding against you with every thrust.

“God yes ah yes yes,” he gasps out but it’s not long before he pulls you away from his cock and you’re almost ashamed of the pitiful sound that escapes your mouth.

“Shh shh easy there, “ he coaxes out as he strokes your head “we’re going to have plenty of fun I promise, go and get that bottle of lube for me yeah?”

[yorsgirl]

Fuck you . Gladly

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The embers of your jealousy is fanned when girls forget that your boyfriend is not available. The only problem – silent treatment is your go-to reaction. Good for Sukuna, he knows how to make you talk.

Tropes: Established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, fellatio, spanking, degradation+praise, choking, rough/angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms(female), mentions of smoking and cheating, no curse AU, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count - 3.8k

A/N: nope, sorry, this isn't the Sukuna fic whose sneak peek was posted a few days ago. That's a long one so it's taking time, instead I am feeding you this. Enjoy :)

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

Jealousy is a ugly thing.

From childhood, you were taught to always be poised and content with whatever you have. Limited resources, not the best outfit or not your desired commodities. Accepting and being satisfied with it was the norm.

Your mother said the same, "Jealousy is a ugly thing." When you admitted to be jealous over a certain classmate whose grades were higher than yours. I saw her cheating in the exam hall, words were on the tip of your lips but you resorted to keep the dirty secret to yourself.

Heard the same from your friend, "No need to be jealous, its the worst of emotions." When you fumed over how you can't go to a particular excursion (blame your strict parents) while she gets to go.

Jealousy is a ugly thing. Be content with whatever you have, even if it's not the best.

Oh- but fuck off to that age old quote that was thrown down your ears.

You get it. You really do, be glad with whatever you have and shit! And you are. You really are. But how could jealousy not play when others try to put their filthy hands on what is rightfully yours?

In this case, your boyfriend – Ryomen Sukuna.

You aren't particularly insecure about your relationship with him. Contray, you do trust him a whole lot and his mannerisms to the opposite gender doesn't defy your view of him. However, problems arise when a dumb bitch forgets that your boyfriend is not out in the market for her to rub herself.

Take yesterday for example – it wasn't long after Sukuna's practice match while you watched him from the bleachers. Silently, gushing to yourself of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked with the sweat dripping down his hair and forehead, the perspiration glistening on his skin and over his well sculpted abs when he pulled his jersey up to wipe his face, once his eyes landed on you– fuck it!

Ah– sorry, that went off topic... so where it was? Oh yeah!

Not long after his practice match did you watch that bitch Yorozu, literally jump out of the bleachers and run into his arms like she is his damn girlfriend. (She isn't). While you quietly, revelled over the fact when Sukuna without a bit of damn respect shoved her away, you couldn't shake out the fangs of malice growing inside you.

That brings you here, leaning back on the headboard of your bed with your phone clasped firmly in your hand, you scrolled through instagram. A rather pathetic attempt at ignoring Sukuna, who tried to strike up a conversation with you but you remained nonchalant.

"How long will you keep up that attitude?" Sukuna questions, leaning on the wall to your shared bedroom, a bored expression laces his features.

You don't answer, you don't even make the effort to look at him. It was perhaps, good time to just break your resolve for you've been giving him the cold shoulder since yesterday. Honestly, you don't even know why he's on the receiving end of your wrath. Sure, you are mad, but you are more mad over that wretched bitch than your boyfriend. But as you share no relation with her, its him who's suffering.

"Jesus Christ," Sukuna murmurs to himself, rolling his eyes as he steps up and sits in front of you.

He calls your name. You don't answer. He calls it again–his tone harsher. Your response is silence.

The next thing you know, your phone is harshly snatched away from your grip.

"What the fuck?!" You curse aloud, fire burning in your irises as you glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

He scoffs, "So now you talk."

You try to reach for your phone but his counter is putting it away with a hand extended out. "Give that back."

"No."

"Yes."

He grips your right wrist in a tight hold, not enough to hurt you, just to keep you in place.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask, the attempt at pulling your hand away proves futile when he tightens his hold.

"For you to stop acting like a brat."

"Acting like a brat?" You could only scowl. "I was silent the whole time. Is breathing illegal for you, now?"

His carmine irises blaze with annoyance as he retorts back, "You know damn well, I am not talking about that."

"I don't." You had always been bad at lying.

"Fuck yeah, you do."

You don't respond to that, trying to reach for your phone which he is doing a damn good job at keeping away. "Sukuna," Warning drips from your lowered tone, "I am not in the mood. Give my phone back, now."

"Yeah?" A humourless chuckle leaves his lips, "You're not getting it tonight, deal with it." You grit your teeth, trying to keep in the bubbling anger which would flow out any second but sure the God's hate you cause Sukuna's next words crumbles every bit of your self-control.

"Besides... why do you need it anyway? What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Texting some bastard while you I am in your no communication zone."

That's it. The fucking audacity.

Cheating. Something you can never speak or joke about, and he knows it still the God damn audacity to spit shit in front of you as if you're the one whose locker would be filled with love notes on valentine's day.

"You fucking asshole," You stand up, pulling your wrist away from his grip. Rage pours tumbles out of the dam, pouring through your every vein, every bone, every pore. "You have the fucking audacity to accuse me of cheating when you're the one smooching of other girls."

There's bad move. Then there's the worst fucking move of all.

This was the latter.

Sukuna rose up instantly, his gift of height gave him the upper hand to easily glare down at you. "The hell did you just say?" His tone turned a note low, the deep raves of his voice enough to warn of the impending danger.

Did that scare you? Maybe. Were you going to back down and say sorry? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

You scoffed, folding your hands over your chest, "Oh, you heard me." It was entertainment. Pure entertainment. Watching him riled up over a simple accusation. Hell, you'd pay to witness it again and again. "Do I have to say it again to your face, cheater?"

If he's so much offended to be labelled as a cheater then he shouldn't have brought up the topic in the first place. It doesn't make sense on what type of logic, you're backing yourself up but if rationality worked in cases of fueling rage and huge egos then there'd be no wars in the first place.

His response could only be grasping you by the throat, firmly as he roughly pushed you back on the wall. "I am the cheater? I've been nothing but loyal to you."

"The last time Yorozu–"

"She was clinging to me and I pushed her off, what more do you want?"

Nothing, I am just fucking jealous. That's what, you should be saying but you don't cause- cause you just can't.  You grit your teeth and resort to profanity, "Fuck you, nonetheless."

"You stupid bitch," His grip around your throat tightens and that's when you're finally aware of your position. With your back pressed against the wall and his calloused hand grazing over the pulse point of your throat–this situation could not be more intimate.

You are hit with his cologne mixed with the musky smell of cigarette which, you assume, he had smoked before coming to you. A heat burns in your core as you notice the intricacies of tattoos that marks his visage; each one luring you to trace your fingertips over them.

You're still antsy and a flurry of provocative insults are resting on the tip of your tongue which would be spit out any second but- but what could be the better time for your estrogen levels to rise?

It's not long after that you mutter a curse under your breath, your fingers find their way to his collar; a second later–you are locking lips with him.

Sukuna's initial shock of the situation is evident as his lips doesn't move against yours. Yet, he indulges soon, his eyes flutter shut when he responds with equal fervour and fire. He tilts your head back, his tongue lapping over your bottom lip and a sigh escapes him when you give him access. His free hand find their way over to your hair, tangling his fingers through your strands as he tugs them back – deepening the kiss.

You groan against his lips at the surprise pull. His tongue prods inside your mouth, engaging in a harmonious dance with yours – swirling and lapping with it. His hold on your throat was tight, cutting off your air supply while his mouth moved against yours in a rhythm. Allowance of breath was gratified once he felt your mouth tighten against his. You gasped and panted for air, his hold on your throat loosening just a bit. When you looked up, a suggestive smirk was plastered against his lips and damn– wasn't that just irksome.

Sukuna pulls you closer, nibbling on your earlobe which incites a rather sinful moan from your mouth. "All that attitude and you wanted this. Should have just said so, princess." It's almost mocking on how he used the nickname.

"Fuck you."

"Gladly."

Said so, his mouth again presses over yours, harder than the previous time. The passionate liplock lights the fire in both of you as Sukuna's hands glide down from your hair. Caressing the curves and contours of your body before finally resting on the plump flesh of your ass. He squeezes your buttocks while trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw and lips.

"Use your words from next time, princess."

Fuck it. Fuck him. He is smirking. You can't see it but damn, isn't it palpable? Your eyes are shut tight as his hand moves from your buttocks to your thighs and upto your thong. "Fucking soaked," He hisses under his breath, feeling the large wet splotch that has settled over your the fabric.

"Ngh– Sukuna," A breathy moan slips past you as he palms you over the garment, tracing the outline of your clit and entrance. His attempt at teasing you is working dangerously well and you have to restrain yourself from giving into this wanton pleasure. You grip onto his biceps, nails digging into the muscles from over his shirt. "Stop fu-fucking teas–ing me."

"Am I teasing you? Mhm nah, I don't think so." His heated breath falls hot over your neck as he licks a line over the curve of it. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"

You don't answer, silently scowling at him but that's his cue to slide your thong aside and caress the skin over your needy pussy. He knows what you want. And he knows only he can give it you. But he won't. Not until you say it. And you won't say it cause you're damn stubborn and you've got to show him that you're still mad which is proving difficult under his skillful ministration.

Well, that isn't a bother to him, you can stay with your resolve all you want while he enjoys playing with you.

"F-Fuck it– Sukuna–," You whine, pushing your hips towards his fingers to just receive an inch of stimulation but that's fruitless. The attempt at clamping your legs shut is the worst play you could make as Sukuna harshly slaps your pussy.

"Keep those legs spread like a good whore."

You hate him. You really do. You hate him for the certain joy of degradation mixed with praise – one, only he can evoke from you. The phrase had a electricity shoot to your cunt causing it to throb as a sheen of sweat formed over your forehead.

The grip over your resolve breaks and you find yourself speaking before you can even think, "Fuck– Sukuna, need you, ngh– now."

"Now, that's like a good little slut." Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice before two of his digits delves inside your aching cunt while the rough pad of his thumb presses over your clit.

You throw your head back at the needed stimulation and courtesy to Sukuna's hand tangled in your hair–shielding your scalp from hitting the wall. The flurry of curses and moans leaving your lips could have been recorded. His fingers move in and out of your cunt in a fast pace while your pussy sucks them in. He hits your g-spot and that has your eyes rolling back in your head. The squelching noises from your pussy and your breathy loud whimpers reverbrates through each and every corner of your room. He draws circles over your clit, scissoring his finger in a V, stretching you out.

"Eyes on me, princess," He murmurs in your ear and you comply soon after. Gazing in his crimson eyes darkened with lust, a shiver runs down your spine as your legs tremble while he fingerfucks you like playing the keys to a piano. "Watch the only man who can make you cum like this."

It's possessive and diabolical. He has no right to act such when you aren't even the one who's going around entertaining the opposite gender. But you don't have any bit of resilence left in you to tell him to fuck off. Besides with the amount of strings he's pulling, its only a second later that you spasm and milk around his digits.

Sukuna pulls out his fingers from your hole, gazing at the slick and fluid running down them with amusement flickering over his irises. Yet, he pushes them to your mouth, pulling down your lower lip. "Clean up your mess, brat."

You keep your eyes on him, taking the same fingers which was in your cunt, in your mouth as you lick them clean.

"Yeah? Like that? It's yours, princess." You hum in response. Your brain is still hung up on the earlier scenario, and even though getting off on his fingers did relieve your frustration. You're still not satisfied. Nay, you aren't letting him off the hook that easily. That's when a rather vile idea conjures up in your brain, a smirk escapes your lips.

"Hm, whatcha smiling about?"

You could only laugh, "Ah– you'll know." It's in a second that it happens – the tables turn. It's now Sukuna with his back resting against the wall while you smirk up at him. Your hand slid down to his sweatpants and damn– his clothed bulge could only compare to the actual thing. You kneel down before him, a mischievous glint shadowing your eyes. "Let me return the favour."

You hook your thumb and pointer finger in his waistband, pulling down his briefs. His cock springs out, smacking against his abdomen and for a second, its like you get a brain freeze. Rock hard, and the veins are protruding out of the shaft. It isn't the first time, you've seen it but each time you do, realization hits of how huge it is.

"Less staring, more sucking, princess." Sukuna says from above, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Oh no, just admiring a work of art," You reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. It isn't a lie but it's sure a push to his ego. You look up at him, holding the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue over his mushroom tip.

"Fuck," He mutters to himself, head tipping back when your warm mouth latches over his hardened shaft. He pushes himself onto your moist mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you almost gag on his cock. You compose yourself soon, looking up at him as you bob your head up and down on his thick, veiny shaft.

Sukuna's grip on your hair doesn't falter, instead tightens as he establishes his hold while tangling his finger through your strands. You assume he likes it (and why wouldn't he? Only you can give him a head like this) from the way noises leaves his mouth as you take him in as much as you can. Your hand glides over the remnants of his dick, stroking and pressing on it.

"God yeah– fuck... j-just like that– ngh."

Your name rolls out of his mouth sinfully causing your cunt to suck on air. Drool runs down your chin to your jaw as you lap your tongue over his shaft – swirling and drawing over the bulging veins. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. He knows, he's close as he heaves in a ragged breath.

Good. You were just waiting for that.

You detach your mouth from his cock with a pop, standing up as you press your lips to his for a brief second. A smirk played at your lips, "Now, wasn't that nice?"

"What the fuck?!" Sukuna growls at you, dumbfounded at the wave of pleasure that would've washed over him if not for you.

"Pay back, darling." You grin, pressing a kiss to cheek which only infuriates him more.

It isn't a second later that you are roughly thrown on your bed as Sukuna hovers over you, pulling your skirt up and ripping out your thong. You don't have the time to complain when he pushes his cock inside your throbbing cunt, hitting right at your g-spot on the very first stroke.

"God, Suku– ah–" A harsh slap is delivered to your ass, you hiss in pain as Sukuna picks up the pace. Pulling out his cock just to the tip before shoving the whole girth in–stretching and filling you up to the brim.

"Sluts don't get to speak," Another smack lands on your ass cheek, harder than the previous. It would sure leave a mark but he could care less. He swipes at your hardened bud, pinching it as you cry out in pain. "Yeah, like that– scream like the dumb bitch you are."

You are panting, trying to breath but his hand is clamped around your throat like a collar–pressing down your wind pipe. "Gnhh– Su-Suku' ahh– too m-much."

"Too bad, you're taking it." His hands find their way under your thighs, pushing them up until your knees are pressed up beside your face. He folds you in a mating press, reaching spots in you which you didn't know existed. "That's the thanks I got for making you cum. Brat's like you need to be punished." Said so, he reaches under your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breasts while he tweaks over your nipples.

You fist the sheets, eyes rolling back, you are almost on the verge of seeing stars before your eyes. His strokes has your legs tremble but he holds you tightly in his grasp, pinching and tugging on your erected buds. You swallow a deep breath feeling yourself clamp around his cock, you're close–too close and his swipes inside your pussy does not make this situation better. "Sh-shit, ahh– g-gonna ngh– cum."

"Oh yeah, so soon?" He pinches your clit elliciting a scream from you. "Like that, don't ya? Nasty little bitch, cum."

You suck him in, feeling yourself come undone under him. But– uh oh...

Sukuna is far from done.

You don't have the time to catch your breath, before he flips your position; you're straddling his lap with his dick still stuck in your cunt. "Wait– what the–"

"We are far from over," He whispers near your ear. "I still haven't cum, slut." He leans back on the bedframe, squeezing your ass cheek with a lopsided smirk stuck on his face. "Go on, take responsibility of your own actions. Or..." He stretches out the word, looking down on you. "Can you not?"

Did he really...? Was that really a challenge thrown your way?

If he thinks your estrogen levels aren't enough to keep up with his testosterone then he's damn wrong. You snickered, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh–he grunts out in pain. Your knees are aside his hips as you push yourself down on his cock. "You should know better than asking me if I can go on."

"Hm, prove it then."

Damn bastard... he's toying with you, provoking you with words and damn! It's working well. Like a moth to a flame, you are playing into his whims and you're damn sure, he's laughing his ass off inside his mind.

"Fuck off," You curse at him, pulling yourself up before sitting back on his member.

"Gosh– shit," Sukuna grabs your hips, groaning at the way your warm walls feel around his dick. Hooking his hand under your top, he tugs on it and you oblige, putting your hands up as the garment is thrown off your body. He doesn't waste a second before delving in to bite and suck on the flesh of your neck while fondling your breasts.

The only sound that reverberated through the room were your wanton moans mixed with his groans as your name was chanted like a mantra. Your butt slapped against his lap as you bounced on him, your mouth parted as a trail of drool ran down your chin.

It's the same dance, you've danced with him countless times. The flicker of flame that burnt could only be fuelled by your combined desires. Each kiss, each bite, each stroke giving rise to the allure of just one more. Once again.

You felt Sukuna's cock twitch inside your sore cunt–burning and ravished from taking him in so long. Your pleasure was coming in soon. And at the last second, Sukuna's mouth met yours in a salacious, deep kiss–resulting you to moan in his mouth as his seeds paint your walls white. You come simultaneously, ragged breath of relief erupting from you.

Both of you part, as you stay still over him, catching your breath. You look into his eyes; he's staring right back. Huffs and pants could be the means of communication and even though your room is air-conditioned, a thin layer of sweat covers the both of you.

For a second, there is a amalgam of emotions that flicker in his gaze alone. They disappear before you can name them yet- you believe there was a hint of tenderness to them.

"I hate you," The words flow out of you yet you don't know, why they don't have the same sharp tone as always.

"I hate you," You repeat again.

A smug smirk plasters over his lips as he clicks his tongue, "Right? Who was riding that dick–"

"Shut up."

Yes, you do hate him the most.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Can we have a Poly!Marauders x Quiddich Player Reader, Where she falls and breaks a bone and tries to hide it from the boys? That would be so great <3

thanks for requesting gorgeous!! poly!marauders x fem!reader

cw: mentions of injury/bruises

1.1k words

“I was able to heal the bone, but it will be a bit sore for a bit. Try to take it easy for about a day or so. Some bruising is normal, but keep an eye on it. If anything looks concerning, don’t hesitate to come back in, okay?” Madame Pomfrey slathered some unknown mixture over the inflamed skin on your shoulder.

“Okay.” That seemed to be the only word you had said in the past half hour, eager to leave the hospital wing.

“This bandage should help with the swelling.” The nurse explained as she wrapped long strips of white cloth around your chest, then crossing over your shoulder. You glanced at the clock anxiously, seeing it was now 10 minutes past when you were usually back at your boyfriend’s dorm.

“Thank you so much, Miss.” you said politely, putting your clothes back on. She patted your good shoulder as you hurried out into the corridor.

You changed clothes in your room before going to the Gryffindor common room. It was now late afternoon, when most of the house members were outside enjoying the nice weather, or inside the library studying. You heard the ruckus of the three boys immediately after you stepped through the portrait hole.

“Hey sweetheart! We were just about to look for you, we were getting worried.” James looked thrilled to see you, if not a little concerned.

“Sorry, practice ran late.” You fibbed, worrying your lower lip with your fingers. You hoped the collar of your sweater was efficiently hiding the bandages.

“That’s okay lovie, come sit.” James scooted over, creating a space between himself and Remus (who had Sirius curled on his lap like a cat, arm held over his eyes like a damsel in distress).

“Practice go okay?” Remus asked cooly, flipping the page of his novel.

“Yeah. It was alright.” You really wished the topic would just change.

“Modest as ever, dolly. Marlene was watching for a bit. She said you kicked ass.” Sirius chuckled. You winced. If she saw you fall she definitely would’ve told the boys. You gave Sirius a nervous smile. He lowered his arm to look at you suspiciously.

James squeezed your shoulder, making pain fizzle down your arm, but you kept your face stoic. You leant back into his chest as you let them return to their previous conversation. Your eyes were closed, listening to the vibration of James’ laughter.

You were almost asleep when you were jolted back to reality, in the form of Sirius grabbing your legs and tugging them towards him.

“Ah! Siri!” You gasped. Your legs were now across Sirius’ lap (technically also Remus’) and your head landed in James’.

“Gentle, love.” Remus chided the boy in his lap.

“She was so far away.” Sirius pouted pathetically. You lifted your head to look at him blankly.

“We are literally on the same couch.”

“That’s not close enough! I want you inside my skin!” Sirius whined. He all but flung himself off of Remus’ lap and on top of you. You squealed.

“Christ! Pads! You’re lucky I spend so much time in the gym. Not everyone could handle your roughhousing.” James scolded but his voice was laced heavily with fondness.

“Not the only reason I’m lucky.” He waggled his dark eyebrows at the curly-haired boy before he nuzzled his face right into your neck. On any other occasion you would giggle and squirm, but because of your injury, you groaned and your face screwed up in pain. You tried to hide it but unfortunately Remus had a perfectly unobstructed view of your face.

“Padfoot. Off.” Remus (gently) pulled Sirius off of you. Clearly his tone indicated that he wasn’t joking, because you heard no protests. James stroked your still tensed face.

“Shit! Did I hurt you, baby?” Sirius knelt by the couch, patting you down to look for injury. You winced again when he reached your chest. You shook your head.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just a little sore from practice ‘s all.” You tried to shove the boys off but it was no use.

“Let’s have a look.” Remus wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh, it’s really fine.” You floundered, but he still stuck his long fingers into your collar, pulling it down to expose your clavicle. James gasped when he saw the white of the bandages.

“Sweetheart!” James pressed his fingers into the top of the wrap and you hissed. “What happened here?”

“I just got a little banged up.” You moved to sit up but you were gently pushed back down.

“Off with the sweater, dove.”

“If you wanted me to strip, Lupin you didn’t have to go through all this fuss.”

He just rolled his eyes. You complied begrudgingly. The boys all hissed at the sight. Tight bandages digging into your skin, discoloration painting the edges.

“That’s more than a little banged up, lovely girl.” James stroked your head. His tone was light in the way it is when he’s especially worried.

“Did you fall onto the tracks and get hit by the fucking Hogwarts Express?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“It’s not that bad. It’s all healed anyway, just a little tender.” You reassured.

“Did you go to the hospital wing?” Remus asked plainly. You inhaled deep, knowing the reaction you were going to get.

“Yes.” You sighed. “It’s fine. It was a little fracture but she healed it.”

“Baby!” Sirius pinched your thigh hard. “You went to the hospital for this and you weren’t going to tell us?”

“Well… yeah. Because it’s all healed now.” You said as if it was obvious.

“That doesn’t mean you keep it a secret you muppet.” James scolded. He still leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret! I just didn’t want to make it a big deal.” Remus handed your sweater back to you and you sat up to shrug it on.

“That’s why you lied to us and said practice ran late, when you were actually getting treated for a broken bone?” Remus quirked a brow at you. You suddenly felt small.

“Sorry.” You looked down. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, baby dove. But I need you to tell us if you get hurt, yeah? It’s important. It’s our job to keep you safe. You need to let us do that, okay?” His brown eyes were warm, but commanding in the way only Remus could accomplish.

“Okay.” You nodded. He tapped your chin with his knuckle.

“Attagirl. Now c’mere.” He tugged you into him, your face against his sweater. Sirius climbed into James’ lap and snuggled into him. The bespectacled boy whispered something in his ear.

“I might have to take a tumble if it will get Moons to look at me like that.”

[ivymarquis]

Not me vividly hallucinating about a certain scot eating me out until I cry

What you wish for

Pairing| John “Soap The Munch (tm)” MacTavish x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of safe word, Johnny is A Munch(tm), the author is an American still trying to dial in a Scottish accent

Date a munch, they said.

It would be fun, they said.

And it is, for the most part- you can admit that with no hardship.

It’s just that occasionally (like now), it becomes obvious that Johnny is eating you out for his pleasure and your own is just a happy by-product.

“Shit, ah! Johnny! I’m gonna- hgn- Johnny I’m gonna cum,” you pant in warning as the Scot buried between your thighs goes to town on you like a man starved.

Every time this man drops to his knees in front of you, it is a guarantee you’re going to see stars.

This time he’s got you pinned on your back on the bed. You seem to be wiggling too much for his taste as he’s banded one forearm across your waist and the other hand grips one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

No matter how much you cry and moan and buck and cant your hips, he just leans his weight on you to keep you still.

He alternates between broad swipes with the flat of his tongue or more pointedly circling your clit or lapping at the inside of you.

While he’s yet to disappoint, he really seems into it (re: you) today. Like teetering on has-something-to-prove into it.

With that sort of dedication and attention, it’s no wonder he’s got you squirting and squealing in record time as he slips two fingers inside and abuses that spot that has you seeing stars.

Johnny works you through your high, lapping up every drop of it like it’s his last meal. Your legs twitch weakly in his hold as he continues on.

You think that maybe he’s working himself down, that he’ll leave you be in a minute.

He doesn’t.

Less attention is paid directly to your clit, but he’s still honed in between your legs even as you squirm. “Johnny,” his voice is a whine in your throat. “Johnny I came- I already came,” like there was any possibility that he is unaware of that- given how you squirted all over his face.

He pulls off momentarily, eying you with a skeptical look. “The fuck’s that got to do with me, bonnie? Cum or don’t, I'm finished when I'm finished.”

Your brain needs a system reboot at that- you stare at the ceiling dumbly as he gets back to business.

He’s trying to kill you- there’s no other explanation for it.

(Distantly you remember how your ex never went down you- still expected head on a routine basis, of course!- and you swore that the next guy you dated would have to be okay with reciprocation. You certainly got your wish in spades, hadn’t you? Almost like the universe was apologizing in the most mind-melting way possible)

It’s all you can do to lay there and breathe. If it actually gets to be too much- well, that’s what safewords are for. But Jesus fucking Christ the man doesn’t do anything in halves.

It’s only after he’s wrenched your second orgasm from you that he lets up, crawling up the bed to collapse to the side of you.

“Soon as my legs quit twitching, I’m returning the favor,” it takes you a couple tries to stammer out the words. Johnny looks every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Oh I’m no done with that sweet cunt o’ yours- ye just looked like ye were gonna pass oot. We’ll give ye a break an then back tae it, hm?”

[takami-takami]

Keigo never really stopped to think about his size before he met you.

He's aware he's big. He has eyes. But it never really mattered much to him besides the typical "huh, nice." when glancing down that men try to pretend they don't do.

So when he first tugs his cock free and your eyes practically pop out of your head, a whisper of "Jesus Christ" escaping, his first instinct is to worry.

He's about to ask "wait, is something wrong?" before he realizes it's not fear, but admiration he sees in those eyes that are laser-focused and transfixed between his legs.

Well. Maybe a little bit of fear. But it's a good kind.

It doesn't take him long at all to develop an ego.

By the third time he has you sobbing on his thick cock, insides stretched to the brim while his thighs grind against your ass, those sweet little words he coos carry an unshakeable confidence.

Words like, "you can take it baby, c'mon, it's okay. Shh, it's alright, so good f'me. Take me inside, baby. I'll make it fit. You've done it before, yeah? So proud of you, you take big cock so good."

Before long, he's faking obnoxious yawns next you on the couch— an excuse to place his arms behind the seat and spread his legs apart, enticing your predictable stare. He couldn't hold back that knowing grin if he tried. His boisterous laugh in response to your accusation of "stop being a slut, Kei'" only ceases once it's cut off by a moan, your knees thudding against the floor to properly kiss his prominent bulge through the clothes.

By the tenth time, he praises himself nearly as much as you.

"You love taking this fat fuckin' cock, don't you? Love being split open on my dick, yeah? Only mine? Shit— yeah, you do. Don't even care that it's stretching your guts, do you? Nah, you love it, you fuckin' love it. 'S that why you're screaming so loud, baby? Sound so pretty when you do. Get your head out the pillow, wanna hear you. Wanna hear that pretty voice scream my name when I take you."

"Mine," he snarls. "All fuckin' mine."

Once the post-nut clarity hits, he promises he'll go back to normal: wings drooping in apology like a kicked puppy as he thumbs away your thick tears of pleasure.

"Ah... Sorry, baby. Wasn't too rough, was I? You did so good. You sore? Want me to run a bath?"

All you're capable of providing is a shaky thumbs up.

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦

Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*

-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-

-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-

-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…

-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.

-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-

-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-

-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!

-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)

-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-

-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.

-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.

-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.

-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-

-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.

-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-

-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?

-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.

(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)

-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.

-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.

--

(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.

-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.

-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!

-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-

-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.

-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.

-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.

-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.

-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!

-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.

-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.

-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*

-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day five

prompt: teacher pairing: charles/oscar word count: 900

“Seriously, Ames?” Oscar says, when he rounds the corner and finds her sitting on a chair just outside the classroom.

“It was for love, dad!” Amelia exclaims, jumping up when she sees him. “I can’t just not do it if it is for love.”

Oscar has conflicting opinions on that. It is, sweet, of course. He’s glad Amelia still believes in the concept of love at all, seeing as her own father is so completely shit at it. But like. He really wishes she would stop hosting flashmobs. Or serenades. Or that time she and that boy from her Spanish class that was really good at programming tried to make a matchmaking app.

“Right, yeah,” Oscar says, ruffling her hair. She’s too old for that now, and he knows he only gets away with it because she knows she’s in trouble. “Just. Maybe find a more quiet avenue next time, yeah? How about a good old fashioned love note?”

Amelia’s eyes light up in a way that the unexperienced eye would find adorable, but that fills the person who has been raising her for the past fifteen years mostly with dread. “Yes,” she breathes out, and then grabs for her bag, probably to retrieve a notepad.

“Okay, well, I guess while you go plan your next ‘disruption of a calm learning environment’ I will go speak with Mr. Leclerc yeah?” He says, hand on the doorknob. She barely glances at him and he sighs as he pushes open the door.

“Ah, Mr. Piastri,” Mr. Leclerc says, looking up from his desk with a wide smile. “You made it.”

Oscar thinks, generally, that he would have a much better time coming to the school to talk about his daughter’s behavior if her teacher wasn’t so goddamn pretty. With bright, sparkling eyes, and a lazy smile, and the kind of artfully tousled hair Oscar couldn’t even achieve if he tried.

The horribly baggy pants and oversized button up combo don’t even ruin the look. Somehow it makes him look cool. Oscar hasn’t looked cool since, well. Possibly ever.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Oscar says, sitting down in the chair Mr. Leclerc gestures at. “Again. I don’t know who he has it from.”

“Not you, I presume?” Mr. Leclerc says, eyes twinkling. He doesn’t seem mad, so that’s. Good. Amelia’s previous teacher consistently got their panties in a bunch about the well. Singing. And dancing. And everything.

“No, god no,” he hasn’t tried in a while, but he doesn’t think he could dance. Or sing.

“Her mother, perhaps?” Mr. Leclerc asks, flipping through some folders on his desk.

“Maybe,” Oscar says. “She hasn’t been around for a long time, so. Yeah. I think she mostly gets it from Lando? I mean not the singing and the dancing but this. Need to perform? He’s a DJ, so.”

“Ah, your partner?” Charles asks, looking up at Oscar now, curiously.

“Oh Christ no,” Oscar says, trying not to pull a face, remembers he’s talking to his daughter’s teacher, and schools himself into a more neutral expression. “No, uh. Lando’s just a friend. Of the family. He’s not. He has a boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Charles says. “Alright. Well, I mostly summoned you here because-“

“Because my daughter upheaved your class by performing a perfectly choreographed flashmob to Bruno Mars’s ‘Just The Way You Are’? Yeah, I uh. I heard. And I apologize, again. I’ve been trying to talk to her about it, but it’s-“ he pulls a face. “It’s just me and she’s just uh. Very different and sometimes I just. I don’t really know how to get through to her?”

It’s the most honest he’s been in a while. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly blurting all of this out to Mr. Leclerc of all people. He’s blaming the big sparkly eyes. Stupid eyelashes, too.

“Hm, I can imagine. All parents kind of feel like that when they reach this age, though, don’t worry. No, I was actually wondering if you were aware of our after school theatre program? I think she would do wonderfully in there. If it’s more the dancing she’s into, or the singing, there’s also a dance team and a choir.”

Oscar blinks. Process. He’s so used to hearing Amelia’s teacher admonish her behavior he wasn’t really expecting anyone to. Well. Encourage her.

“Oh,” he says.

“They’re free, school funded programs, if that’s a concern,” Mr. Leclerc continues. “But I do think it might be a nice outlet for her.”

“Yeah,” he says. He knew, vaguely, that there were clubs. But Amelia had never expressed an interest, and he’d been too busy juggling his demanding job and raising a teenager to ever properly look into them and. Yeah. He takes the folder Mr. Leclerc hands him.

“Thak you, Mr. Leclerc,” he says. Mr. Leclerc stands, and so does he.

“No problem. That was all, really. I do some of the musical accompaniments for the theatre and choir programs so if you have any questions feel free to ask.” By the door, Mr. Leclerc takes his hand. Oscar shakes it a little dazedly. “And please. Call me Charles.”

“Oscar,” Oscar says. Charles hands are soft, and his smile is gentle, and his eyes are still so incredibly stupidly sparkly and fuck. Fuck.

“How did it go?” Amelia asks, when he steps back out the door.

‘I think I might be in love with your teacher’, he thinks. “We’re enrolling you into the school’s theatre program,” he says.

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 3. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

see masterlist (PINNED) for all parts Warnings: profanities, consumption of alcohol and cigarette use. hints of sex! age gap (reader!22) enjoy!

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

You're at your desk when you hear the news, the entire office in commotion as Cameron, Tony and Declan appear after the wrap of Declan's newest episode.

"Rupert said yes?" You gasp, smacking Seb's arm. "Fucking brilliant, man." You say, grinning. "Declan's gonna take a chunk out of his neck, it's gonna be grand." You look over at Declan, who's clinking glasses with Tony in his office.

"I'm just grateful our efforts aren't going to waste. Christ knows how much time we put into this sleazy bastard." Seb grumbles, crossing his arms.

"Why you look so down on yourself Seb?" You ask, standing up straight from your previous position of leaning against the oak desk.

"I don't know, y/n. Maybe you can figure that out yourself." He says bluntly, walking away towards the common space.

Your jaw drops slightly, throwing your arms up. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself, grabbing the back of your neck. You had been turning down Seb's advances on you due to your clandestine actions with Declan, not realizing how much of an impact it really had on the ginger. You knew he liked you a little more than just friends, you just hoped he'd let go of it sooner than later.

As far as you were concerned, still no one knew about you and Declan. You tried to stay focused on your work and not overthink it much, although it was on your mind every minute of your waking hours. Not telling anyone, especially your new best friend Taggie, was taking a toll on you. How does one tell another that they find their dad very attractive, and also have been banging him in his office after hours? It wasn't an easy feat for anyone. You tried to remind yourself that it was okay to have a little fun, as long as no one else knew about it.

You jump slightly as you notice Declan standing by your desk, straightening out your blazer as you nod towards him. "Declan, hi. Congratulations on securing the interview with Rupert." You say, giving him a smile.

"Thanks, y/n. You've been a great help with it all, I wouldn't be as confident as I am without you." He says, a smirk growing on his face. "Would you mind doing overtime on Saturday? To help me with additional flawed research?" He asks, now properly smiling.

"Ah, I would, but your daughter has asked me to accompany her in catering for Baddingham's falconery that day. I'm sorry." You admit, shrugging.

"That's alright. Will you be coming to our home for dinner afterwards, then?" He asks.

You grin, tapping your chin in thought satirically. "Yeah, I guess so." You say, letting out a small laugh.

"Great, see you then." He says, a light tap on your bottom as he walks away.

You gasp lightly, looking around hastily to ensure no one saw. "Unbelievable." You whisper to yourself, sitting down at your desk.

-

As Saturday rolls around, you find yourself bright and early at The Priory, attempting to hold back your yawns as you prepare cheese and fruit platters with Taggie.

"Can I ask you something?" Taggie asks, rinsing a bowl of grapes.

"Course, yeah. What's up?" You say, slicing wedges of brie.

"Do you think my dad should go through with interviewing Rupert?" She inquires timidly, putting the bowl of grapes on the kitchen table.

"Rupert is an asshole. He deserves anything that is thrown at him." You say bitterly out of respect for your friend, and her father.

"Y/n, I don't think he should go through with it." Taggie says, meeting your eyes. "I'm afraid my father will ruin him." She whispers, frowning.

"Taggie," You start, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Where is this coming from?" You ask, worried about her concerns.

"I think Rupert isn't as horrible as everyone thinks he is. He sincerely apologized to me, and I can tell he wasn't just doing it out of spite for me or my father." She explains, sighing. "After you left before the party ended, we slow danced together and..." She trails off, seeming upset with herself. "We shouldn't've, I know. But there's something about him that isn't worth destroying him over." She finishes.

You furrow your brows and purse your lips. "I'm not the one to call the shots on this, Tags. You know that." You say.

"My father listens to you better than me, for some reason." She says, causing your breath to go still. "I don't know why, but I would like for you to try saying something." She pleas. "For me, y/n. Please."

You let out a deep sigh, letting go of your breath. "Fine, I will. Don't get mad if he goes through with it, though." You mumble, reorganizing the assembly of cheeses.

"Thank you." Taggie smiles, giving you a side hug.

"Course." You whisper, it was the least you could do considering what secrets you've withheld from her already.

"Taggie!" Declan yells, entering the kitchen. He is taken aback by our presence, perhaps not expecting you so early in the morning. "Y/n, hello." He smiles. "Have you seen my plaid shirt your mum put out to dry?" He asks his daughter.

"I folded it up in your dresser, dad." Taggie says, causing Declan to nod.

"Right, course. Thank you darling." He places a kiss on her head, secretly gliding his fingers across your lower back as he steps away. "See you girls later." He says, waving as he exits the kitchen.

"Why'd you look at my dad like that?" She queries, nudging you.

"Like what?" You say defensively.

"Like he was a piece of meat." She says, scoffing.

"Your dad's hot, that's not my fault. It's not like I'm doing anything." You exclaim, raising your hands.

"Good, you better not." She says jokingly, grinning at the banter between the two of you.

You laugh, trying to not frown at your inner thoughts.

Only if you knew, Taggie. Only if.

-

Declan is in the office, going through evidence against Rupert as he notices Charles Fairburn reorganizing his office. "Charles!" He says out of surprise.

"Oh, hello." Charles says. "I didn't expect to see anybody."

"I'm researching Campbell-Black and needed something from my office." He says, approaching Fairburn.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Tony Baddingham had Declan O'Hara doing his dirty work." The road of Baddingham's distaste for Campbell-Black is a long one, and quite complicated enough even for you to even know about.

"I have my own reasons for wanting to take that bastard down." Declan interjects.

"You know, in different circumstances, you and Rupert could've been friends." Charles says simply. "Both complicated, both stubborn, misunderstood." He jests, putting down office supplies on his new desk.

"Bollocks." Declan states. "What are you doing in on a Saturday?" He queries.

Charles clicks his tongue, "Moving offices ahead of my grand return." He says, now holding a clipboard. "Apparently, my recent coronary episode makes me a medical liability." He says, referring to the panic attack that happened on New Years. "Which is why Cameron Cook is now controller of programmes and I'm--"

"Head of Religious Broadcasting." Declan says, reading the new plaque on the door underneath Charles' name. He looks back and gives him a look of sympathy.

Charles scoffs. "I can't begrudge her too much. Climbing the greasy pole requires its own set of skills." He mumbles, sitting down. "Especially when the greasy pole in question, lives in Tony Baddingham's trousers." He says sarcastically. A moment of silence passes by.

"How's the heart?" Declan asks, redirecting the conversation.

Charles sighs. "Oh, you know, broken." He goes quiet for a moment. "How's the new journalist, Declan?" He asks, watching as Declan's face contorts into bewilderment.

"What'd you mean by that?" He asks, attempting to act confused by Fairburn's statement. Heat rose to his face as his heart began to race.

Charles gives him a weak smile before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what I saw at the New Year's Eve party. I was out in the garden and wasn't expecting to see you, especially with y/n." He says quietly, Declan staying dead silent. Fuck.

"I'm not telling anyone." Charles adds, seeing the worry in O'Hara's face. "Don't show Tony any weakness, Declan." He abruptly says. "Or this is what you get." He whispers sadly, referring to his new demoted office space.

Declan looks down for a moment, unable to find words as he slowly walks away. He looks back again at Charles Fairburn before he returns to his office, closing the door and running a hand through his dark curls.

Charles knew of Declan's dirty secret, but regardless of what assurance he is given, he has to keep it completely under wraps now. He has to be careful, and so do you.

He notices a folder on his desk, opening it to reveal a note from the sender mentioning of a phone call regarding Rupert Campbell-Black accompanied by a photo. He grins, his worries dissipating as more evidence has landed in his lap. He folds it up tightly, enclosing it in a new envelope with a devilish grin.

-

You find yourself back at The Priory with Taggie later that afternoon, your stomach unwell from seeing all the dead birds that day.

"God, it's astounding how they manage to eat and drink so much while killing those innocent creatures." You say, taking a leftover ham sandwich and taking a bite out of it.

Declan enters the house, returning after his time at the office. "Ah, how was the shoot?"

"Well, they killed loads of birds," You say, swallowing your food.

"But they liked my food." Taggie finishes the sentence for you. Declan chuckles. "Rupert stopped by." She adds, crossing her arms.

You watch in bemusement as Declan reacts poorly. You take another bite of your sandwich.

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Is there no place free of that man?" He exclaims, walking away.

Taggie furrows her brows, looking over at you to do something.

You sigh, taking the last bite of your sandwich as you follow her father into the other room. "I'll talk to him." You mumble to Taggie as you pass her.

After quickening your pace, you follow him into the master bedroom, where he begins unloading his blazer. "You shouldn't be so harsh on Rupert, y'know." You begin to say, closing the door behind you.

"And what makes you think you have any say in that?" Declan replies with an edge in his voice, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

"Taggie's forgiven him, I think you can let it go-"

"Let it go?! Let go of the fact that he groped my daughter? That my own wife still wants to sleep with him even though he's a horrible fucking bastard?!" Declan yells, aggressively huffing on his cigarette.

"Look, I understand where you're coming from Declan, but this could backfire and then what happens to you, huh? What if he ends up burying you into the ground instead of the other way around?!" You try to explain, holding your place as Declan begins to undo his shirt, tossing it onto the bed. You stare at his torso as he breathes heavily in anger, his chest rising and falling. Time and place, time and place.

"He will not do any such thing." Declan mutters harshly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray atop his dresser. "You know that Charles Fairburn knows of us, huh?" He says, leaning against a bed post.

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his statement. "What? How?" You ask meekly, guilt mixed with fear rising up your throat from the pit of your stomach. "But no one saw us?" You whisper, beginning to pace back forth.

"Well he did." Declan states flatly. He grabs your arm and halts your movements. "He said he won't tell a soul, but this means we have to keep it controlled or this can no longer happen, y/n." He whispers firmly, staring into your eyes.

"I think I'd rather quit than stop whatever this is." You mumble, turning yourself completely towards Declan.

The two of you stare deeply at one another, Declan placing a hand on your cheek. "I need to control myself." He whispers, leaning in close enough to have his lips hover over yours.

"No one can see us now, Declan." You remind him.

-

The two of you come undone in multiple positions. You find yourself cuddled up beside Declan as he lights a cigarette, inhaling as he strokes your hair.

"Thanks for that, I needed a good fuck." You joke, closing your eyes as Declan hums.

"My pleasure." He grins, inhaling his cigarette once again.

"Wait, shit." You say, sitting up abruptly. Declan looks at you with confusion. "Taggie is still here, she must be concerned why it's taking so long." You say worriedly, getting out of the bed and retrieving your clothes.

Declan watches you with a smirk, his eyes trailing over your exposed body as you shimmy your underwear and jeans back on, following with your shirt.

You run over to Declan's side of the bed, pressing a firm kiss on his lips. "I'll see you for dinner, Mister O'Hara." You tease, smoothening your hair as you exit the grand master bedroom. He simply laughs, inhaling his cigarette.

You hurry down the hall, slowing down your pace as you look for Taggie.

"Tags?" You yell, eventually stumbling across Declan's study.

She had opened his file of evidence against Rupert, abruptly closing it when she hears you approach. "I-I was just looking through it, I'm sorry. Please don't tell my father." She says hastily, getting up from the desk chair.

"Taggie, relax. It's okay." You say, hoping nothing about your appearance gives away what you had been doing for the past half an hour. "I tried convincing him, I really did. He wouldn't budge, Tags." You admit, sighing. "Maybe you can warn Rupert, I don't know. I think your dad has more dirt on him than we know." You warn, running a hand through your hair.

"Maybe I should talk to him, then." Taggie says, beginning to walk past you.

"No-!" You say, grabbing her arm. She looks at you with confusion. "He seems exhausted, I think he needs to be left alone to be completely honest." You say, hoping Taggie would drop the whole thing for today.

"Alright, then." She says, your grasp loosening on her arm. "I'm gonna start making dinner, then. Care to help?" She asks, walking slowly out of the study.

"Always." You say with a smile, following Taggie out the door.

-

As the evening rolled around, you found yourself around the dining table with Taggie to your left, Maud and Caitlin on the other side as Declan sat at the head of the table.

"This food is incredible, Tag." Maud muses, taking another bite of the dish.

"It's y/n's recipe, actually." Taggie admits, smiling at you.

"Oh, y/n. Lovely job, then." Maud says, sending a smile towards you.

"Thanks Maud. It's my mom's favorite dish. I ate it a lot growing up." You say, taking a sip of wine.

"Hmm, American culture doesn't taste as bland as I thought, then." She remarks, taking another bite.

"Be nice, Maud." Declan warns, glaring at his wife.

"Actually, my mom's from Greece. It's Mediterranean, not American." You correct her, trying to hide a shit-faced grin behind your glass of wine.

Caitlin stifles a laugh, earning a light kick of the shin from Taggie.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Maud apologizes, clearly embarrassed.

"No, it's okay. I agree, American food is god awful." You assure her, taking a bite of your meal.

"So, what's this big interview you've announced on live television about?" Maud says, looking over at Declan.

"Ah, I'm interviewing Rupert on Valentine's Day." He says casually, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"That's it?" Maud persists, raising a brow.

"He wants to take him down, mum." Taggie interjects, Declan scoffing at the statement.

"I'm not doing anything that he doesn't deserve." He emphasizes, taking a sip of his glass.

"Declan, don't you think you're taking this a bit too far? They're calling you the Corinium Butcher, for god's sake." Maud exasperates, putting down her cutlery.

"I am doing the interview the way I want to and that is that!" He states firmly. "Now, can you all get off my arse about it and enjoy this lovely meal y/n and Taggie put together? Christ." He exclaims, picking up his fork and taking another bite out of his dish.

Everyone goes quiet, returning to their meals.

You feel a bit cold in the room, the peaks of your breasts hardening as you realize something dire-- you've left your bra in their bedroom.

You clear your throat, standing up. "I have to use the restroom, if you'll excuse me." You say, hurriedly exiting the room.

You make your way down the hall from the foyer towards the master bedroom, slowly opening the door and flicking on the overhead light as you scan the room hastily for your bra.

You get down on your knees, looking underneath the bed on the opposite side from the door. You see it just within arms reach, stretching your arm out as the door opens.

"What are you doing?" Maud says, causing you to smack your forehead against the bedframe, unable to grab ahold of your bra as you stand up hastily.

"I uh, Taggie was giving me a tour earlier and I thought I lost my ring in here. I was just trying to find it because I realized I lost it when I was going to the washroom." You lie out of your ass, smiling oddly at a very confused Maud.

"Oh, what does it look like?" She asks, not realizing this ring did not exist whatsoever.

"It's small, really small. Honestly it was super cheap it's not that big of a deal!" You force out, making your way towards the door. "Let me know if you find it though, it was from my mom." You laugh awkwardly. "I'm going to the washroom now."

You hastily exit the bedroom, leaving Maud behind as you run into the nearby washroom and close the door behind you. You panic as you stare at yourself in the mirror, whispering profanities to yourself. You wash your hands as if you had dirtied them with your actions, almost afraid to return to the table.

You take a deep breath and open the door, walking back out to the dining table as you practice breathing normally.

Maud had already returned to eating her meal, seeming disinterested in your bizarre behaviors from before.

"Is everything alright?" Declan asks you, referring to your tense aura now present in conversation.

"Yes, everything's fine." You say, taking a sip of your wine.

"Y/n was trying to find a ring she lost earlier in the master bedroom, maybe you can keep an eye out for it too." Maud says nonchalantly to Declan, whose face drops at the mention of you being in their bedroom.

"Is that so?" He asks, coughing slightly as he tries to swallow his food down. "That's a shame. I'll keep it in mind then."

You watch as Maud gives him a puzzled look, her eyes squinting at her husband with suspicion.

"Would anyone like dessert?" Taggie asks, standing up.

"Me!" You say abruptly, also getting up. "Let me help you with that!" You offer, following Taggie into the kitchen.

She suddenly stops right by the kitchen island, causing you to bump into her. "Something's going on with you y/n. You've been acting weird all day. Is everything alright?" Taggie asks, a look of concern upon her face as she grabs ahold of your hands.

"Sorry, I'm just stressed out about the whole Rupert ordeal." It wasn't a complete lie, ever since you landed this internship you've felt like putting your head in a door way and slamming the door repeatedly on it. You couldn't imagine how many grudges these Lords hold against each other, it would've been disputed in an instant if you were back at home.

"I shouldn't have brought it up, I'm sorry." Taggie says, sighing. "I tried getting Rupert to step down earlier at the falconery, but he wouldn't listen. He's convinced my father doesn't have the capability to take him down." She whispers, afraid of her father overhearing the two of you.

You quickly glance into the next room where Declan was speaking to Caitlin, Maud seeming very displeased in the middle. "I don't know if we have any more options, Tags. I think we have to let them go at it." You say remorsefully, looking back at her.

"I'm not giving up just yet." She says firmly, picking up a platter of desserts as you shake your head, bringing out another bottle of wine to share.

-

It was now Friday, February 14th. You and Seb were in mid conversation when Cameron Cook comes barreling down the office floor, yelling about needing coffee.

"You'd think the promotion would make her happy, but she's angrier than ever." You say, closing your folder. Your desk phone starts to ring.

"I'll get the coffee, you get the phone." Seb says, walking around from your shared cubicle.

"Hello, y/n y/l/n speaking." You say.

"Look, I'm going to make this very clear y/n." Maud says on the other line. "I know that you are seeing my husband." She says, causing your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

You laugh breathlessly, looking around as you sit down, almost whispering into the phone. "What are you talking about?" You ask, your body beginning to sweat profusely.

Declan's wife has called you, at work, on the day of all god damn days, to confront you about your affairs.

"I found your bra underneath my bed when I was looking for something else." She says, almost sounding too calm for the circumstances she was speaking of. "I know I am one to talk, but I insist if you know any better, that you no longer see him. His work already keeps him away from our family, god forbid someone at The Corinium starts doing the same." She remarks, her tone never wavering.

Your jaw drops slightly, unable to find your words.

"Oh, and good luck tonight. Don't ruin my husband's career." She says, the line going dead.

You are left in dismay, slowly putting the phone back down on the hook. You look around your workspace once more in complete mortification.

"Oh god." You whisper to yourself, getting up to retrieve a cup of coffee to mask the fear building up inside. You couldn't fathom the audacity Maud O'Hara had to tell you to leave her husband be when she was trying to get with every other well-off man in the county.

All personal feelings aside, you knew you had to listen to her wishes in order to keep your job, and Declan's. It would be unfair to both parties if you kept this up.

You shakily pour the coffee pot into your mug, putting one cream and one sugar in after before stirring it with a spoon. You stare at the ground, unable to gather your thoughts up properly as Declan quickly walks past the kitchen with his focus on papers in his hands, taking a step back when he notices you standing idly.

"Y/n, what're doing just standing there?" He asks boastfully, causing you to jump and spill some coffee on your hand.

"Fuck," You whisper, wincing as you quickly run your hand under the cold tap.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Declan says, coming up beside you and placing his hand on yours. "Is your hand alright?"

You turn to face him, giving him a flat tone. "It's fine, thanks." You say, pulling away as you grab your coffee and step into the hallway. "I have work to do."

He grabs your arm. "What work? You've done it all already." He says, raising a brow. "Is everything alright?" He asks, his eyes full of concern.

"What? Haven't you heard the news?" You quip, staring at him with dread in your eyes. You hated yourself for developing feelings for Declan O'Hara. You were smarter than this, and to allow yourself to dig such an emotional hole was the last thing you needed for your brand-new career.

"Everything is fine, Mister O'Hara." You say, pulling your arm away from his grasp. His face drops when you refuse to use his first name. "Maybe you need to ask your wife the same question." You add bitterly, stepping away from him. His eyes widen at the mention of his wife.

"Elvis is about to enter the building." Seb says, him and Daysee both running down the hall past you two.

Declan looks you for a long, silent moment. "We'll discuss this later." He mutters, following them down the hall.

You close your eyes and sigh, walking away towards your desk.

-

You're now standing in the control room, biting your nails nervously as Daysee counts down Declan, now live broadcasting the interview. You exchange glances with Seb as Declan begins with mundane questions before hitting him with mildly offensive comments that will eventually snowball into something worse.

You cover your mouth as Declan brings up the topic of adultery, and how it must do Mr. Campbell-Black well for life within the Conservative Party.

"I'm sorry?" Rupert says with dismay.

"You know, sneaking around, lying, betrayal, sexual degeneracy." Declan lists nonchalantly, as if Rupert was born for such actions.

"Oh fuck." You mumble into your hand, Seb patting your shoulder with a sympathetic look.

"Remember, Declan's just doing his job." He reminds you.

"I'm no longer married." Rupert exclaims.

"Yeah, but you were, for six years! And yet throughout your marriage, your affairs were common knowledge." Declan states confidently, gesturing to the crowd. "I mean, one Gloucestershire peer has described you as 'rather a nasty virus that everyone's wife caught sooner or later.'" Declan reads off of a card.

"Well if you've seen his wife, it's definitely later." Rupert retorts towards the audience, causing everyone to laugh. Declan's jaw vividly tenses on camera.

You sigh putting your head in your hands. "Oh wow, that's great." You mumble to yourself.

"What a fucking arsehole." Seb mutters, crossing his arms.

"And that's the break in five..." Daysee begins counting down.

You nervously watch as Declan composes himself to announce the commercial break.

"That's time for break. When we return, who knows what Mister Campbell-Black might choose to share with us when we return." Declan says through a forced smile, looking directly at the camera. It felt like he was looking right at you.

"...and we're out." Daysee says.

"Thank fuck." You quickly exit the control room, needing to be elsewhere for the next three minutes. As you make your way through the halls, you run into Taggie.

"Taggie?" You say in a quizzical manner, causing her to turn and face you.

"Y/n, I'm here to talk to Rupert. Something's very wrong about this." She says urgently.

"Jesus, Taggie you can't-" You begin.

Rupert appears around the corner with his assistant. "Taggie, what are you doing here?" He asks her.

Taggie walks past you. "You need to go. Just walk out."

"Rupert, I advise you to not do that." You warn him.

Rupert laughs at you both. "Your father's not the first old socialist who's tried to catch me out." He reassures Taggie, putting his hand on her arm. "Whatever you're worried about, it's already out there."

"Taggie, you need leave-" You begin, tugging at her arm.

"No, I know him." Taggie says, ignoring you as she pulls away from your grasp. "He's saving the worst for later. When he wants something, he's ruthless." She warns him. "He'll do anything, I mean, he's-"

"He's just like you, Rupert." You say, pursing your lips.

"Exactly." Taggie says.

Cameron Cook appears, interrupting the conversation. "Minister, we need you back on set. The break's almost over." She directs Rupert, who keeps his gaze on you and Taggie.

"Listen to Miss Cook, Rupert. You have to go." You say.

"Just walk out of the building with me." Taggie interjects, pleading with her eyes.

"Minister!" Cameron snaps, glaring at Rupert.

"Screw this." You say, walking away from everyone. You return back to the control room, slamming the door behind you.

"What's going on?" Tony Baddingham asks, puffing on a cigar.

"Cameron has it under control." You simply say, returning to the corner with Seb and Daysee.

"What happened?" Seb asks quietly.

"Taggie's shown up to try and get Rupert to leave. She thinks Declan has more blackmail on him than we are aware of." You whisper, grabbing the back of your neck as you watch Daysee begin to count Declan back in.

"Where the fuck is he?" Tony says harshly, looking down through the viewing glass.

You hide your face behind your clipboard, unable to watch the scene about to unfold.

"Y/n look, Rupert's back." Seb says, tapping on your back to redirect your attention. You look over the clipboard at the monitors, watching Rupert Campbell-Black sit back down on the stage. Rupert begins to compare the interview to being back on the playing field.

"Seb, I don't have a good feeling about this." You say quietly, covering half your face with a clipboard.

"Just watch, relax." Seb whispers.

"It's an interview, there are no winners." Declan tells Rupert, who gives him a look.

"That's not true though, is it?" Rupert queries, looking towards the audience. "He wants to beat me." He exaggerates, giving a shit-faced grin.

Your eyes widen as Rupert begins to compare him to Declan, putting both of them under the same umbrella metaphorically. Declan brings it back around by repeatedly shitting on Campbell-Black, about to pull out an envelope from underneath his blazer as Rupert does something no one expected; admitting everything Declan has said to be true.

"Oh god." You whisper.

"I remember what it was like, to be the best. And what I was willing to do to stay there." Rupert says grimly. "What are you... willing to do?" Rupert asks in a taunting manner.

Declan goes quiet.

"To your family?... To yourself?" Rupert asks solemnly, the both of them having a stare down as the control room starts to light up in commotion.

You watch in fear as Tony urges Declan in his earpiece to take down Rupert, your eyes flickering between the multiple camera angles on a very, very quiet Declan.

"You're right." Declan finally says. "I'm a workaholic. And when I'm consumed by something... I can be, um... I can be a-"

"Monster." Rupert finishes the sentence, the both of them sharing a stare once again.

Rupert makes a comment about Declan being a better husband than he ever was, which causes you to look away from the screen when Declan argues against it. You couldn't help but feel as if you're one of Declan O'Hara's many flaws.

The interview starts to go in the opposite direction. You look back at the screen, watching Declan pull out his earpiece as Tony becomes enraged.

"If it's any consolation, we've made some really great television." Cameron Cook reasons.

"This would have worked if you'd just done your fucking job!" Tony yells at her, causing the rest of you to side eye him madly.

"Seb, I need to go home." You tell him flatly, putting your clipboard down.

"What? Y/n, the show isn't over yet! Where are you going?" Seb exclaims quietly, confused by your course of action. Daysee also gives you a look of worry.

"I just said home! I'll see you on Monday." You whisper aggressively, leaving the control room.

You hastily go over to your desk to retrieve your bag and coat. You glance over quickly at the viewing room the rest of the staff was in, your stomach tying in knots as the sight.

Heading down the hallway and the stairs, you push open the front doors and end up outside, where a massive group of fans stood awaiting Rupert Campbell-Black's return. They all share looks and noises of disappointment as they see you, an intern on the brink of tears instead of the acclaimed bachelor.

You push through the crowd, hurriedly approaching your car and unlocking it. You sit inside the beater and stare off in the distance. Your cheeks are stained with tears against your own will, your forehead resting upon the steering wheel as you begin to sob mercilessly.

You felt so hopeless amidst it all, no longer sure of yourself as you were before.

-

i will not lie this chapter was becoming so fucking long it's just gonna end up a continuation into the next part... also im lowkey too awkward to properly write out sex scenes because i give myself second hand embarrassment so forgive me this fanfic is plot driven over sex driven (':

as youve noticed ive started to follow by the episode plot line, it makes it easier for me to write and follow. thank you again for the support, and as always keep interacting with my works! keep me motivated ;)

much love,

isabel

[sgiandubh]

I love your style, intelligent, down to earth, very practical, not in the 5-10 children in 7 years part of the fandom. Guess that’s why I’m very intrigued by your take on recent events. I feel a massive shift in their public behavior, very different from the last 6-7 years where they tried very hard to separate themselves from their characters and each other. Why do you think that is?

Dear @i-ship,

Thank you very much for the kind words. I try to keep things in check and base my opinions on solid facts. Not 'FACTS', mind you, but as much as possible publicly available documents and data. The not so public things (meaning you have to pay for those, which indicates a different confidentiality level) I keep for myself, because I am not an idiot: in no way, however, do they contradict the rest, in which case I would immediately recalibrate my analysis. I also know very well that confirmation bias has often been mentioned as a sad excuse across the street, when things didn't look good for them. That is wishful bullshit, because no legal professional would prostitute their skill in order to shoehorn reality into a given scenario. Papers speak by themselves - there is no need to stretch the information they contain, but yes, you can (and you should) interpret them. Therefore, all I did was to translate in everyday English what is often not accessible to everyone and wrap it in a bit of context. This is, apparently, a mortal sin and I know it is the main reason I am being hated with a passion, by many.

All of the above just to stress the fact that I am not easily swayed by sensational pics, tidbits and gifs. I may sound like a damned party pooper to you, but I prefer to patiently follow what I think is interesting, rather than childishly bounce on my chair every single time people see what they really saw a thousand times before, in eleven years of saga. Nor do I need to have confirmation four times a day of something that simply exists, irrespective of the fact I know about it or not.

I will say only this: C definitely looks as she DGAF about the whole circus anymore. It started with the piggyback pics, on March 25, continued with the Taylor Swift concert (the only time I allowed myself to oooh and awww at 4 AM) and is now seemingly confirmed by these new promo pics and interviews. Yes, they screeched 'it's fan service', but as far as I know nobody forced C to behave the way she clearly intends to show everyone. It's Season 7B, for Christ's sake, the script is hogwash and the acting is not so good (yes, I will need a rewatch to write something decently balanced about it), the audience numbers are dwindling and OL is on its way out. Hard truths, no matter how you turn it: why would she open again the door to 'speculation' (ah, but what's in a word?), especially considering this cesspool of a fandom's obsessive-compulsive collective behavior?

Unless...

Unless, @i-ship. Let's not write the script, but you got me. I hope this answers your question - at any rate, it was a pleasure trying to.

[sabrina-kpop]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, can I request a the poly hashira x fem gyaru reader who gets made fun of by the other demon slayers? (Angst but a very fluffy ending) :3

ׅ𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

my very first request yay!! and it's of my life style!? Double yay!! In this oneshot I made the reader off of my sub style which is manba!! And sorry if this is bad which it probably is.. AND YOU ARE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MUICHIRO YOU ARE SEEN AS A MOTHER FIGURE

WARNINGS: swearing (Sanemi ofc) slut shaming (I'm based this on my experience with being gyaru) bullying ect.

Being a gal while also being a demon hunter has is pros and cons, pros being hanging out with Tengen and Mitsuri for new clothes and cons being your makeup sweating off and hair getting messed up while on a mission.

Today is a day where the hashira (specifically Tengen) invited you and the rest to a summer festival, of course you where excited you haven't gone to a festival since you were a little girl.

You have finished doing your hair and makeup looking beautifully crazy along with your outfit, you hear a knock on your door and before you could answer Shinobu walked in "Ara ara, well aren't you looking beautiful my butterfly" she said complimenting you, you utter out a small thanks,still not being used to compliments.

you walked out with Shinobu and met up with the rest, Gyomei and Giyuu grabbed your hands and the rest began to go to the city.

What you didn't know is that Rengoku, Shinobu and Giyuu brought some of their tsugoku's and slayers with them and they don't really get along with you. They saw you as a weirdo because of your fashion sense and looks although you try your best to ignore them sometimes it can hit you a little hard......

"What is she wearing" strike one.

Ouch that hurt. You are so confident for your rebel style and yet now you're feeling like it's getting pulled away you try to ignore it but it remains in the back of your mind.

"Y/n...are you feeling okay..?" Said Muichiro you reassure him that your fine and continued your way to the city with the rest.

It was evening and you have a ride to the city it was crowded and it was bright seeing people talk, dance, laugh and show of their Japanese pride.

"Ah! It's so crowded! " Mitsuri said in a high pitched voice. Obanai suggested that you all go to a restaurant to rest and eat but you said that you wanted to see the jewelry booths and clothing booths set up outside.

Giyuu sent two of his kakushi just in case something happened.

You immediately wandered off into one of the booths that were selling jewelry. You mean started buying a bunch of them some for partners and some for you.

"Jesus Christ doesn't she have enough... She going to die from blood stopping with all those tight bands around her wrist... "

Strike two.

You really put some back listening to what they said it hurt you like if someone stabbed you in the heart you tried to ignore them again but how could you all they do is talk about you and your features you feel like nothing you feel like a clown.

"I'm back!" You said with a bag in your hands "I bought all of you some new cute clothes!" You said happily as you hand them their gifts. They happily thanked you and began to order food.

The food was delicious. The meat had a juicy flavor and the rice was perfect.

"Fuck, I'm full" utter out Sanemi

"Really? I could go for more!" Said Mitsuri. Both Obanai and Sanemi look at her in a "what the fuck?" face as Shinobu and you giggled from the side.

You got up to go to the restroom but you ain't mean it shivered due to your clothes being slightly revealing. Although you knew that this will be the consequences from deciding that your outfit looked better without a jacket and quickly shrugged it of as "beauty is pain"

As you went to the restroom and finished doing your business, you were washing your hands so you heard this.

" you can clearly tell that she's cold she was shivering so hard that when she gets for being a slut with those revealing clothes. "

Strike three, your out.

You immediately began to tear up why were they saying these things to you what did you ever do to them this has been going on for years now and it hasn't stopped. why couldn't they just accept you for who you are? Why couldn't the see that you were happy being yourself? Why couldn't they see that you are human too?

Suddenly you heard a knock on the restroom door.

"Y/n you've been their for a while are you okay?.." It was Giyuu.

"Y-yeah I'm okay..." You said trying to cover up the sound of your crying.

"Are you sure..? It's sounds like you aren't.."

You went quite and started sobbing as Giyuu opened the door and went in while the rest followed..

Mitsuri went up to you and tried to calm you down the best she can, keyword "tried"...

"Y/n just tell us what happened..!" Said Mitsuri panicking not really knowing what to do..

"Am I w-wierd?" You utter out as the rest looked at you with worry

"The fuck is that supposed to mean" said Sanemi.

"I-it's just that people when they see me the way I am they think of me as some kind of slut.."

Who the hell told you that I swear I'm going to beat them into next wee-" Sanemi said as Shinobu cut him off.

" Oh my little butterfly....you're nothing like that you're not even close you're beautiful and you're special.

Shinobu said.

" yeah you have the courage to be flamboyant while the others are just idiot with no sense of style "

Said Uzui.

"Y/n your beauty is like a flame bright and beautiful! "

Said Rengoku

"You're so beautiful doing your nails everyday is so much fun especially trying out new patterns!"

Said Mitsuri.

" Seriously tell me who made you think like that, I will show them no mercy.. "

Said Sanemi.

"You remind me of that one flowers...what was it called...? Hibiscus..? "

Said Muichiro.

"You remind me of water.... Useful and when at sea.... Sparkling.."

Said Giyuu.

"Your personality is bright and energetic...I will always pray for it to stay that way.. "

Said Gyomei.

But your personality is also soft and kind... It's one if the reasons why Kaburamaru loves you so much...

Said Obanai.

You can't believe them each and every one of their words fix your heart piece by piece you made them all get into one group hug even if Sanemi and Giyuu can't stand them..

"Wait! Hurry the fireworks are about to start" squealed Mitsuri dragging you and the rest outside. You guys found the perfect spot to watch the fireworks. as you all sat down you couldn't help but think of grateful you are to have such partner's "Thank you.. " you said as they look at you and smiled. You rest you head on giyuu's shoulder while you all watched the fireworks...

[ghostssweetgirl]

Yo me again lol, after reading that lil comfort Simon fic u did me , was curious to how the other 141 boys + König would react to sad fem reader just wanting to be held 👀

141 + König & How They Would React to You Wanting to be Held

You know I got you!

Captain Price

He's a big teddy bear, forreal now. Like always giving the best hugs, and always encourages you with little pats on the back, his voice as smooth as honey when he asks you if you're okay.

He always knew when you were having an emotional day, and was always ready to be your support.

Hates seeing you cry, it nearly brings this old man to tears.

But he enjoys holding you, enjoys being the one that makes you feel better and back to your normal self.

In fact, he was about to check on you before you knock on his office door.

You meet his eyes with your swollen ones, slightly puffy from stuffing your face into your pillow while you cried. Before you could say anything, you could hear the concern in his tone.

"You a'right there, kid?" he tilted his head, putting all of his attention on you.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about it. "Not really."

"Ah, I knew it," he chuckled as he leaned back in his desk chair. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No," you shrugged. "'M fine. Jus' wanna be held. Could you help me with that?"

He pat his lap as he belted out a hearty chuckle. "Right, come on, then."

This. This is what made him happy. It made his day when he made yours better. He gently patted your back while you got comfy, resting your head on his chest for God knows how long. It just felt nice to be in his strong, warm embrace. For Christ's sake, the man even put out his cigar to attend to you - fully.

You went to sit up but he pulled you back into his chest. "Nope, not done holding you yet." He didn't say it outright, but he needed it, too. Plus him holding you there while you playfully tried to get away made you giggle, which he loved to hear.

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Absolutely elated that you wanted him to hold you.

100% will put down anything he's doing to make you feel better.

Really good at comforting you with his words, he's so selfless.

He knew when you were sad, but never pushed as to not intrude in your personal space and privacy, but if you ever needed to talk, he was more than happy to lend an ear.

"Easy there, lass," he laughed as you plopped down on the sofa next to him, playfully pushing his arm away to lay on his chest. He gratefully pulled you into a tight embrace, and although it was an awkward position, holding you felt natural.

"Thanks, Johnny," you smiled, sinking down further where you lay on his belly. He swore besides Ghost, you were the only other one who could get away with calling him 'Johnny'. "You're really comfy."

"Aye, I bet y'are comfy there," he chuckled. "Did somethin' happen? Can tell yer sad, lass."

"Nothing happened, I suppose. Just... sad. You know?"

"Yeah."

"What do you do when you're sad, Johnny?" you asked.

"Usually go make you laugh," he smirked. "Always works. Seeing you smile makes my day."

"How sweet, but now I'll think every time you joke with me that you're sad," you frowned, looking up at him.

"Ah, it never lasts long, don't worry, bonnie," his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you with a wide smile plastered across his face.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

A literal cuddle bug.

Was shy about holding you at first, but felt pure bliss when you two embraced.

Doesn't always know what to say, but he holds you so tight your brain shuts up.

When he does talk, his voice is very smooth.

You can hear his heartbeat fasten while you lay on his chest.

He was laying on the couch, minding his business, almost dozing off at the comfort of the sofa until he heard footsteps, specifically yours enter the room. His eyes widen as he sees your slumped shoulders, feeling your sadness radiate off of you. Concerned, he sits up. "Hey, you okay there?"

"Never better," you joked, tip-toeing a few inches closer to him. "I... have a question."

"I might have an answer, shoot."

"I was just wondering if you could hold me?" you asked nicely.

For a minute he sat there, looking you up and down as if 'are you sure?' and stammering as he found his words, shifting on the couch thinking of a comfy way to hold you. "W-would you like to lay on top of me?"

"As long as you hold me tight for a while, it doesn't matter."

It may have been awkward at first, but you two soon found comfort. You softly chuckled as you heard how fast his heart was pacing, poor guy was so nervous. Of course he liked you, but he didn't expect you to come to him to make you feel better.

He calmed down eventually, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Starting to feel a little better?"

"Yeah, actually," you sigh. "Comfy... Might fall asleep."

He laughed as he agreed.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

As per my last little one-shot, he never hesitated to hold you or even listen to you, give you advice when you sought it. He was a great Lieutenant first, but an even better friend, partner.

God, did he hate to hear and see you cry.

You were too good, too amazing to feel sad, and he wished he could take it all away. He'd take it away and go through it himself if he could.

You were always afraid you made him mad, but it was quite the opposite. He was proud you came to him. It helped his sense of responsibility, and helped him more than he thought it would, or could. Quite therapeutic for the two of you, if I must say.

You two understood each other on a different level than the others.

You didn't come to dinner, and that's when he knew you needed him. First off, you needed to eat. But more importantly, you needed to be mentally okay to eat proper. He excused himself from dinner before coming to your door, softly knocking 3 times before coming in worried.

He sighed as he spotted you in fetal position, holding your knees to your chest.

"Darlin'," he sat down. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"I didn't want to bother you," you whispered.

"W-why would you have bothered me?" It almost offended him you'd think you were a bother to him. You were anything but that.

"Don't know, I'm sorry," you apologize.

"No don't be-" he sighed, laying behind you, shifting behind you. He pulled your back into his broad chest, looking over at your beautiful face that he wished was smiling and happy. "Hey."

"Hey," you chirped.

"Now I'm goin' to hold you here until I can make you laugh, am I clear?" he chuckled, his voice raised in concern. "Let me make it better, luv."

"You always do, Simon," you start to smile. "Always. Thank you."

Alejandro Vargas

Such a romantic mannnn 😍.

A natural flirt, trying to take your mind off of whatever was bothering you which you refused to ever tell a soul.

Quick to ask if anyone hurt you and if he needed to take care of it, anger seeping through quickly before he learned that you were just sad and needed to be held.

You come up to him, frown on your face and your eyes still wet from just crying.

"Mi amor, who hurt you, huh?!" he cupped your face, his voice raised as he felt adrenaline rush through his veins.

You shook your head. "No one. Can you just hold me? It'd be really nice right now."

"Si, of course, of course," he rasped, guiding you to his room with his hand on the small of your back. "Hermosa, you should not be feeling so sad."

"I-I can't help it, I wish I wasn't," you complained.

He laid you down in his bed where he lay next to you gently. Not leaving any space between your bodies, he pulled you to lay on his chest. "Are you okay? Do you need anything - water, a snack, a hot or cold cloth, huh? Nothing for the princesa, yeah? Alright, okay, now come here, just lie there and look pretty, okay?"

You snuggled into him, cherishing his scent as he calmed you. He breathed deeply as he realized you just... needed this. It's been a while since he's held anyone, so this was much needed for him, as well.

König

Our shy little baby 🥺.

Hated when you were sad, but he was far too anxious to push it or ask about it unless you came to him.

He'd find himself pacing, hoping you were truly okay.

He wanted to knock on your door, hold you so close and pluck all the sadness out of your brain.

While everyone else was on a mission, you stayed back along with König, and while you felt like you needed someone, you didn't want to bother him, but you figured why not? The worst he can do... is not be there for you, which, to be fair, wasn't his responsibility, but it would sure help.

You knock on his door shyly, quietly and would be surprised if he even heard you. He opened it shyly as well, his eyes looking far down until they finally met yours. "Oh, uh, hi!"

"Hey, König... Can I come in? It's okay if-" you hold your hands up as if you were trying to defend yourself, not sure if you're making him uncomfortable.

"Ja, come in," he opened the door fully. You look around his tidy room, and set your eyes upon his humongous bed. You stand awkwardly there as you two look at each other nervously.

"I'm just going to ask it, so, König, I have a question..." your eyes met the ground.

"Okay..."

"Would you be willing to hold me? I'm- I feel sad and I just-"

He shook his head eagerly as he made his way to his bed, patting it, inviting you to join. "Of course, Schatz, come, sit."

You waddle over to his bed, having to jump to get on it. He was nervous because of his size, most people were scared of him based on it alone, but here you were, asking him to hold you in your time of need, making him feel proud.

He scooted up, patting his chest excitingly waiting for you to lie on it. He seemed more excited to hold you than you were excited to be held by him. The quietness was peaceful, and it wasn't long before you found yourself falling asleep on him.

He hummed, chuckling as he felt himself drifting off into a slumber himself. For once in a very long time, his anxiety dissipated for a moment, as long as you were there laying on him. He wished he could do this more often, for you and himself. He wondered if this would have helped him during his anxiety attacks.

A/N - I hope this is something along the lines of what you were asking for! I apologize, I wrote this while I'm halfway falling asleep so if I lost it here and there I am sorry and can redo it if you want :) Thanks again for another request, please don't hesitate to send as much as you would like <3