#and then if you get upset she's like 'you're too sensitive. i have to walk on eggshells around you'

[finnickodaiir]

.

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. MAYBE ROMANCE IS A PLACE

Summary: Rafe is still angry at Sarah and you are his loving girlfriend.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff.

A/n: This is my first fic in a long time lol, so It will probably be a bit rusty. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback!

Winter had arrived. As the air got crispier and the winter hibernation loomed upon the Outer Banks, the chaos and trivialness of the Outer Banks began to simmer away.

As Rafe's girlfriend, you were rather thankful that Rafe would be distracted from his ongoing conflict with his sister's friends and now-husband. You did not undervalue the few months you would have Rafe to yourself, him already planning a city break to New York over Christmas. Yet the bliss you had become accustomed to by November soon disappeared.

As a student at Elizabeth City State University, winter took a toll on every aspect of your life. Studying in the final year of your college degree meant your work was piling up more and more by the day.

Sitting in Rafe's estate home you had spent the last 4 hours hunched over the desk in his office while he was off on 'business'- as he described. You were far too occupied to even consider for a moment what he was up to, even this morning you had begun studying before he had even woken up. So when he stormed into the office, his face raw red as he clutched his phone in his hand before he flung it on the sofa to your left along with his jacket, you were startled, to say the least.

After a few moments of stunned silence, you placed your pen on the desk before looking up at your boyfriend. Despite being together for several months now and finding ways to navigate his often erratic moods, sometimes you still felt as if you were on eggshells on how to approach him in moments like this. Rafe appreciated your often brutal honesty but also your sensitivity to his moods- without words spoken on it you both knew his unstable behaviours and outbursts weren't purely learned behaviours.

"What happened, Rafe?" He was still pacing the room, the way he was when he entered the room when you asked him the question. Yet without stopping, he huffed out a reply. "Fucking Sarah and her fucking games. I swear to fuck-" He began his more than common rant about his sister and presumably her friends if you hadn't interrupted. Sarah had grown a soft spot in your heart, you saw a lot of you in her. A young girl who had gone against what everyone in her life wanted for her in the name of love, as you did with Rafe. So when he began to ramble on about her you already knew she was unlikely to be in the wrong, especially when it came to her brother.

"Okay, let's calm down. Sit down for a second and breathe, you're practically burning up." You stood up, walking over to him unfortunately realising that your work would have to be put off for at least half an hour when he was in such a mood. "I don't want to fucking sit down, I can't believe she has done this shit again." Walking away from you back over towards the door before pacing back towards you.

"And what exactly has she done?" You questioned your boyfriend, glancing towards your phone that was bound to soon be bombarded with texts from Sarah regarding this exact problem. Sighing you look back over to him to see him staring at you, rage burning in his eyes. You obviously knew this anger was for Sarah but you weren't in the mood to get into an argument with a temperamental Rafe.

"I was minding my business trying to get some shit done with the estate over in Charleston when I saw- her with her stupid pogue friends. It's like she's rubbing it in my face y/n, does she even fucking care that her friends got our dad killed? I mean they probably fucking did it." Your face scrunched up in confusion, Rafe was upset that Sarah was hanging around her friends? Not to point out the obvious but that was a pretty commonplace that Sarah would be in, maybe not years ago when she had first hung out with the pogues- but now definitely. "Not to be Sherlock here Rafe, but just to check. You are angry that Sarah is hanging around with the same people she has been hanging around for 2 years now?"

His face dropped as if you had asked if the sky was blue. "Yes." An uncomfortable silence settled over the office. You were apprehensive about how to approach him now, sometimes you could sympathise with the oldest Cameron child who had a lot of unresolved trauma thanks to his late father Ward but this wasn't one of those times. You and Rafe had had this conversation years ago when you were only friends, and since you started dating- numerous times after. "Rafe, seriously? You need to stop worrying about this honestly. It has been years now."

He huffed in response, his features hardening and stare glazing over. Were you actually serious? His father had died only a few months ago now and he had been given the burden of not only figuring out everything that would happen with the family estates scattered across the East Coast but also working through Ward's will, a large portion of it which had been left to Sarah who couldn't care less clearly. He couldn't fathom why his loving girlfriend couldn't see what he could- a scheming sister who abandoned her family in favour of pogues. Huffing out a breath, he avoided your gaze knowing if he looked at you you would see the anger rising once more in his face. "That's the problem, you don't get it at all. Why would you get how much of a slap in the face this fucking is? All you do all day is sit here doing fuck all, whilst I'm out there making a future for us and deal with all the shit that comes with it."

Mouth wide open, you stare at your boyfriend as if he'd slapped you in the face- even though it damn well felt like he had. "Are you serious? Doing fuck all Rafe I sit here every day working my ass off for a degree so I don't spend the rest of my life living off your money. Something you complained Rose did to your fath-"

"Don't bring him into this, y/n." He interrupted, completely overruling your thoughts on his words- like he often did when overwhelmed by his emotions. "Rafe, I'm not bringing him into anything. All I'm saying is that I'm sitting here fucking studying to get a job- so god forbid I don't drop at your call to talk shit about Sarah." The room lingered in silence. Both of you refusing to concede to the other- why would you? You were well in your right to call him out on his bullshit.

"Look I don't expect you to get it. It's more than you'd ever understand- too complex" He muttered, walking off towards the door, undoubtedly planning to call up Barry for drugs until his anger faded. "Too complex? Please, Rafe, you don't understand how much work I do. I think the petty fights you and your sister have, that could be figured out if you just fucking sat down and spoke about it, are too complex for me."

Stunned at your words, he paused in his stride towards the door. Petty fights? What was petty about his sister being a raging bitch? "Whatever, I don't have time for this y/n. You're being completely ignorant of my issues."

"No, I'm not. I'm telling you that talking down to me will get you nowhere. I've stood by your side for years, even when we were just friends. Defended you to everyone who called you crazy because I knew, and I still know, that deep down you are just conflicted. I love you, and I will defend you to anyone outside this house. But when it's you and I, I will tell you when you're overreacting and need to think twice about what you are going to do. And that's exactly what you need to do now Rafe. I know you're grieving still and yes, seeing Sarah with the Pogues after all that happened may hurt you. But she is grieving in her own way too. And if that is with John B and his friends then so be it. Don't burn the bridge you have any more than you already have, in the face of something that has been in your knowledge for years."

He knew you were right. You were the one person he trusted. Not Topper. Not Kelce. Especially not Rose. You had been with him through everything, and when he looked back you often gave him advice that didn't always swing in your favour- but always his. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to be in love with, so the fact you stood by his side for all those years was a testament to your honesty and faithfulness. "I'm sorry."

And although his words were short and concise, you knew below the surface level they meant a whole lot more. He struggled with showing any emotion that wasn't frustration. But his harmful words aimed at you doing 'fuck all', wasn't going to fly by under your radar.

"And what in particular are you sorry for?" You asked, leaning your back against his desk. If he wasn't in such a rage when he walked in he would have realised how tired you looked. Your hair was still undone from when you had woken up this morning, drowned in his sweatpants and hoodie he had given you years ago when you were drunk out of your mind at a High School party. Tired- but beautiful. Walking over to you, suddenly sheepish at his uncalled-for anger towards you, he slipped his hands around your waist, slightly pressing his fingers into the delicate dip in your back. "I know you do so much work for us baby, I'm sorry for undermining everything you have done for me. You're working so hard every day, and I'm so proud of you." He admitted, looking lovingly into your eyes. His eyes full of pure love for a girl he had chased all his life.

And although there was so much more to come for you both as you faced the future of your relationship but also the future of the island. You knew that right now, this was enough for you. Standing with the man you love as he moved his hand up and down your back, content.

"Down talk my degree again and you're on the couch for a week."

[chosok-amo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ , BEING PREGNANT IS SUCK — SATOSUGU

you're almost eight months pregnant and your mood is always unstable, you become more sensitive than usual and easily cry even for the smallest things and your husbands are always there for you.

fluff! satosugu x reader, sensitive reader, mood swings, possessiveness behavior, cravings.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

YOU CRY 'CAUSE YOU CAN'T WEAR YOUR SHOES

“baby, are you ready? we're gonna leave in ten minutes,” satoru walked into his shared bedroom with you and suguru. he saw you sitting at your vanity while you applied your make up. you turn your face away from the mirror in front of you to look at your husband as he walks closer to you. he kneels down beside you as you go back to what you're doing.

“yes honey, just a little bit more,” you tell him.

he put one of his hands to the table in front of him and put his palm under his ear. he turned his face to you— watching you closely. “you look so beautiful,” he mused, and smiled sweetly at you. he slips your hair behind your ear and gently plays with it with his long finger. you returned the smile and threw him a glance. “you look handsome too, husband,” you teased him which made his smile grow bigger.

he giggles and kisses your neck— sloppy as he sucks and licks your neck in tiny before pulling away. “you're gonna leave a mark there, toru,” you protest as you look at your neck in the mirror. you can see a little faintly red spot in your neck. “yeah?” he asked you unbothered. he pushed himself to stand up and kiss your head before he told you to come outside quickly. after a few minutes you walk out of your bedroom.

suguru who's in the kitchen preparing a meal for the three of you looking up and he stops for a while. a smile painted on his face and he walked closer to you. his muscular hands round themselves on your waist as he gave your lips a quick kiss. “you look so beautiful, my love,” he muttered to your lips before kissing you again with a smile on his face. “I'll be done in a minute, why don't you wear your shoes in the meantime, love?” he kisses your cheek with his thumb gently as you nod your head.

you leave the kitchen and walk to the foyer where your shoes are at. a heavy sight leaves your mouth. lately you feel tired easily and you can't walk for too long. almost eight months pregnant you feel your body getting heavier each step you take. you rest your right hand to the wall to support your body as you're about to wear your shoes. but your shoes seemed like they had their own head and they refuse to be worn by you. and you can't even bend down because of your pregnant stomach, so you just cry.

feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated with your situation. you just feel tired. crying, you stomp on your shoes to release your anger. “stupid shoes! I hate you,” you cried and kept stomping on it. “why won't you let me wear you?! stupid shoes!” you kicked your shoes until it hit the door. suguru who just came to the foyer and saw you having a mental breakdown run to you quickly. “baby, what happened? why are you crying? are you hurt?” he asked you a bunch of questions worrying.

he cups your face and looks at you with his narrowed purple eyes. “stupid shoes,” you tell him and break down even more. suguru was stunned for a while and a sight of relief he let out, along with amused chuckles. “oh my love..” he wipes your tears and kisses your forehead. he hugs you and makes a circle on your back gently. at the same time satoru came and the look on his face was the same as suguru— his blue eyes narrowed.

“what happened? why are you crying? Is everything okay? love?” he asked you but his eyes focused on suguru— demanding an answer from the black-haired man. “It's nothing, she is just upset because she can't wear her shoes,” he said to him. satoru breathes a chuckle and he kisses your head. “please don't be upset, my love, we will help you. why don't you call us if you're struggling, hm?” he calms you down while he's stroking your head.

“It's just stupid shoes,” you tell him.

suguru gets on his knees to help you to put your shoes on. “exactly baby, it's just a stupid shoes,” suguru sang to you. he tied your shoes and got up. “done, are you feeling better now?” you nod your head which made the man smile. with that he takes your hand and holds them and the three of you leave the house to go picnic and spend the evening together.

CRAMPS

the evening sun casts a warm glow through the bedroom window as you lay on the bed, a slight smile playing on your lips as you scroll through an array of adorable baby clothes on your phone. nearly seven months pregnant, the anticipation of your little one’s arrival fills you with joy. suddenly, a sharp cramp shoots through your abdomen, causing you to gasp and drop your phone. tears begin to well up in your eyes from the pain and fear.

at that very moment, the bedroom door swings open, and satoru and suguru step in, chatting animatedly about something from their day. their faces instantly change when they see you, curled up and clearly in distress. gojo is the first to react, his bright blue eyes wide with concern. “hey, hey, what’s happening?” he asks urgently, rushing to your side. he kneels by the bed, his hand gently touching your arm. “are you okay?”

geto, normally the calmer of the two, moves quickly to sit on the bed beside you. he takes your hand in his, his touch gentle but firm. “talk to us, love. what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soothing. you manage to speak through the pain and tears. “cramps... It hurts so much,” you answer as you squeeze suguru's hand harder.

satoru and suguru exchange a worried glance. “breathe baby, just breathe,” satoru says, his usual playful tone replaced with seriousness. he starts arranging the pillows behind your back to make you more comfortable. he kisses your forehead as he strokes your hair away from your face gently.

suguru’s hand moves to your belly, his touch is careful and reassuring. “we need to call the doctor,” he says, already reaching for his phone with his free hand. “we need to make sure everything’s alright.” satoru nods, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I’ll stay right here with you. Just focus on your breathing, okay? We’re here, we’ve got you.” the pain starts to ease slightly, their presence a balm to your distress. suguru is speaking quietly into the phone, explaining the situation to the doctor, while satoru’s soothing words and gentle touch help calm your racing heart.

“there, there, good girl, such a good girl,” he whispered when the look on your face started to change and you looked more relaxed. after a few moments, suguru hung up and looked at you with reassuring eyes. “the doctor said it’s likely just normal pregnancy cramps but wants us to come in if it doesn’t get better soon,” he explained.

“let’s monitor it for a bit, okay?”

you nod, feeling a bit more at ease. “thank you,” you whisper, grateful for their constant support and love. “no need baby, it's our job as your husbands to take care of you, it should be us who's the one feeling grateful because you carried our child,” satoru said after he sits on the bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “we’ll get through this together,” he says softly, his usual confident smile returning. suguru leans in and kisses your forehead. “always,” he adds, his voice full of love and promise.

with both of them by your side, the cramps seem less daunting, and the fear starts to fade away. You lean into their warmth, knowing that no matter what, you’re not alone in this journey. together, you are strong, and together, you will welcome your baby into the world.

CRAVING

the house is quiet, the evening light filtering softly through the windows as you wander into the bedroom. there, lying comfortably on the bed, is Suguru Geto, reading a book. his serene expression brightens when he sees you, but it quickly changes to one of concern when he notices the slight pout on your face. “what's wrong, love? do you need anything? where's satoru?” he asks, sitting up and putting his book aside.

he patted the spot in bed in front of him, signaling you to come closer. you sit in front of him with your head resting on his shoulder. “I'm craving donuts,” you say, your voice tinged with a hint of urgency. “could you get me some?” you look at him, still pouting.

suguru chuckles softly, his eyes warm with affection. “of course. any particular kind?” he slipped a strand of your hair as he asked. gently, you shook your head, “just plain glazed,” you replied, your craving intensifying. suguru nods and gets up, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out the door. “I'll be back soon baby, call me if something happens, just stay in bed and don't do anything if satoru is not around, wait for me, yeah?” he promises. a nod was your answer.

you settle on the bed, trying to distract yourself, but the minutes feel like hours. finally, you hear the front door open and close, and suguru's footsteps approaching. he walks into the room, a box of donuts in hand and a proud smile on his face.

but as you look at the donuts, the craving that had been so intense moments ago has vanished, replaced by a sudden wave of tears. “what baby? you don't like it? did I order the wrong one? you want me to go there and order another one?” he asked, panicking while stroking your arms warmly. “I don't want donuts anymore,” you sob, feeling guilty, “now I want those cookies you always make and I feel bad.”

suguru's expression softened with understanding and a light chuckle left his mouth followed by a sigh of relief, “It's okay love,“ he said gently, kissing your forehead. “donuts can wait. let's get you those cookies.” he holds your hand as you follow him to the kitchen, still sniffling. as you sit by the counter, satoru appears, his keen eyes immediately taking in the situation. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a comforting kiss to your temple.

“what happened?” he asks softly, sensing your distress. “I wanted donuts, but now I want cookies,” you explain between sniffles, feeling embarrassed about the sudden change in cravings. satoru laughs softly, not at you, but at the situation. “pregnancy cravings are something else, huh?” he looked at the black-haired man for a moment as he smiled. suguru was already at the counter, gathering ingredients. “don't worry, love. I'll make those cookies from scratch, just like you how like them.”

as suguru begins to mix the dough, satoru grabs a bowl of fresh blueberries from the fridge. “here, have some blueberries while you wait," he says, feeding you a few with a tender smile and sits himself beside you.

you nibble on the blueberries, feeling the sweetness burst in your mouth, and your mood starts to lift. watching suguru work his magic in the kitchen is calming, his movements precise and practiced. satoru keeps you entertained with light conversation, his playful nature helping to ease your emotional rollercoaster.

“did you know,” satoru starts, grinning mischievously, “that blueberries are scientifically proven to make you happier?” you raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “really? and where did you read that?” looking at your husband who's already looking at you. satoru leans in conspiratorially. “somewhere on the internet. you know, where all the reliable information comes from.” suguru, measuring out flour, chuckles. “yeah, and that’s the same internet that says rubbing mayonnaise on your scalp will make your hair grow faster.”

satoru feigns offense. “hey, I tried that once! It was a very...interesting experience.” you can't help but giggle. “did it work?” you ask him, slightly pinching his cheeks. satoru winks. “well, let’s just say my hair has always been fabulous, with or without mayo.” suguru shakes his head, smiling. “hy am I not surprised? Only you would do something like that.” satoru smirks, feeding you another blueberry. “ey, I’m all about trying new things. speaking of which, any weird cravings lately, other than donuts and cookies?”

you think for a moment. “well, I did have a dream about eating pickles dipped in chocolate the other night.” suguru pauses, looking intrigued. “pickles and chocolate? that’s a new one.” satoru makes a face. “that sounds like a culinary disaster. But hey, if you want it, we’ll make it happen. anything for my baby,” his cheeky smile showing as he kisses your cheek.

suguru laughs as he starts mixing the dough. “e might need a taste tester for that one. Satoru, you up for it?” satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender. “oh no, you’re not getting me with that. I’ll stick to my blueberry science.” you laugh, feeling the earlier stress melting away. “you two are the best. Seriously, thank you.” giving your two husbands a loving look and smile.

satoru leans in to kiss your cheek. “anything for you, love. Even if it means eating pickle chocolate.” suguru winks as he shapes the cookie dough. “yeah, just let us know your cravings. we’re ready for anything.” as the kitchen fills with laughter and the delicious aroma of baking cookies, you feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the joyful, supportive atmosphere your husbands create.

before long, the smell of freshly baked cookies fills the air, and suguru carefully places a warm, gooey cookie on a plate for you. “here you go,” he says, his smile full of love and patience. you take a bite, the delicious taste melting away your worries. “thank you,” you whisper, tears of gratitude now replacing your earlier tears of frustration. suguru leans in and kisses your cheek. “anything for you, love.“

satoru gives you a gentle squeeze. “we're in this together. Whatever you need, we're here.” sitting between your two husbands, feeling their unwavering support and love, you know you can get through anything. the cookies taste even sweeter with them by your side, and the evening becomes one of comfort and warmth, a reminder of the beautiful family you are building together.

[monamourbladie]

AHH OKAY SO.. this feels so weird typing out but IF YOU'RE COMFORTABLE CAN YOU WRITE LIKE PROTECTIVE/POSSESSIVE DAN HENG IL? idk how to describe it aaa like.. id imagine because he is a vidyadhara, they stay with their lovers for life, so he's be like very protective over his lover. maybe smut but its up to you!!!!!!!

Possessive Dan Heng/IL head canons

okay firstly i wanna say i was sitting on this ask for days bc i was trying to think of a possible plot but I couldn’t:( so i’m just gonna do some head cannons, i hope you don’t mind! I’ll be including some nsfw ones at the end too don’t worry :)) and thank u for being my first request on this blog hehe~

Dan Heng:

alright, so Dan is a very reserved and kept to himself kinda guy as we can see on the Express. he doesn’t show his emotions a lot and he’s kind of hard to read

you’re one of the few people that can read him like a book due to how close you guys are and how much he trusts you. like, even MARCH couldn’t get him to open up as much as he does with you

so when he’s upset, you just know. like it’s so obvious to you and you alone lol

so let’s say you’re out in Belobog and he’s speaking with March & Stelle when some guy comes up to you and starts chatting with you

initially he wouldn’t think much of it until he starts hearing laughter from you, and then all his attention is on you and him. like, why are you laughing at his jokes? what’s he even doing talking to you??

he’d just kind of keep his distance and just watch. nobody else really understands what he’s doing, but you can immediately recognize the coldness in his eyes as he’s glaring daggers at the man.

eventually he’d have enough when he notices him starting to touch your arm and he immediately walks over, keeping a calm & collected stature

“y/n! there you are, i was wondering where you ran off to.” he’s walk up behind you and wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close against him.

your cheeks would flush and you’d immediately lean into him, feeling better now that he’s here and can scare the guy off. “i was just waiting for our drinks.”

“and speaking with me. i was offering to give her a tour around Belobog, since she’s new,” the man said with a smile to her. dan’s grip would tighten around your waist and he’s grit his teeth.

your drink would be called and he’d move away for just a moment - (it helped that you were waiting by the counter, anyway) and grabbed your drinks for you, handing you one and kissing your forehead as he did so, “that’s sweet, but we already have a tour guide. let’s go.”

he’d grab your hand and fast walk you away, his heart almost aching from the exchange.

you always understood how sensitive he is about you dating him, since he’s been so heavily traumatized by his previous marriage in his past life. any scenario where you could leave him in any way terrifies him more than he wants to admit.

“was that supposed to be intimidating?” march would comment with a giggle as they walked over. dan simply sighed as he handed march her drink, “leave it, march.”

you’d look up at him with a soft smile and tilt his face to look down at you. you’d grin and kiss his lips longingly, “don’t worry, sweetheart. i was just being nice and keeping conversation.”

this eased his mind greatly - it’s not like he doesn’t trust you, he’s just extremely insecure and fearful about losing his loved ones, even to a random stranger in a planet they have no plans to stay on.

back at the hotel when you’re alone though? that’s another story. he doesn’t feel the need to keep his usual reserved facade up, and you know that.

the moment the door is shut, he’s immediately behind you, his arms trailing up yours as he peppers kisses up the back of your neck, “i hated seeing him speak with you, you know that?” he’d mutter against your skin.

you’d hum and close your eyes as you leaned into his touch, knowing this was going to be a pleasantly long night. “were you jealous, baby?” you’d playfully tease him.

he’d let out a low growl against your skin as his grip on you tightened, moving you in his arms so you’re pressing your chest against his own. he leaned down and started to kiss against your jawline up to your ear, “i don’t get jealous. i get protective.”

“you’re so jealous,” you’d giggle, moving your head so you could kiss his lips instead. he’d kiss you back harshly to immediately shut you up, beginning to walk the two of you slowly over to the bed as you’d kiss

he’d pin you down against the bed quickly, his kisses getting more feverish as his hands start exploring your body, “that’s enough out of you. you’re my girl.”

you’d squirm under his touch in enjoyment, cheeks flushing red from being called his girl. you loved when you got him to act all touchy, especially when he was riled up like this.

he would absolutely tease you all throughout the night just to get you so riled up that you’d just be panting and begging for him to finally let you have your release.

he’d click his tongue and lean in against your ear, his fingers teasing you unbearably slowly as you squirmed. he wouldn’t let you have your release until you cried out that you were his and only his, reaffirming him in the best way.

he’d lean down and kiss you heatedly as he pumped his fingers quickly to push you over the edge, “good girl, that’s right… you belong to me, no one else…”

youd cry out as he helped you through your high, “o-only yours, dan… f-fuck…”

there was literally nothing he adored more than seeing you a sobbing, moaning mess all because of him. part of you wondered if you should get him possessive more often if he would treat you so nicely afterwards…

Imbibitor Lunae:

if you thought dan heng was closed off and reserved, dan feng was another level. we all know everyone described him as cold and uncaring, but when it came to you? he was a total opposite and an absolute sweetheart.

he had his moments of being a typical brooding dragon, but the love he has for you is so immense that it outweighed every once of coldness in his heart and actions

it honestly surprised most of the quintet when he announced that you two started dating, because out of everyone they expected to actually get a girlfriend the high elder himself was last on the list — let alone a short life species such as yourself.

dan feng does not like showing any ounce of PDA in public by any means. in the public eye, he only would have his arm around you if you were walking around, or occasionally held your hand. he would never kiss you if he knew a lot of people would be seeing it

at least that’s how he acted early on in your relationship. this lead to most people thinking you were single, so it was not uncommon that you would have guys flirt with you right in front of him.

the first time dan feng noticed a drunk guy coming into you hardcore, it made his blood boil. unlike dan heng, dan feng was totally cool with showing off his angry side.

he immediately stormed right up and got between the two of you, resting his hand against your chest and glaring at the man, “i think it’s best if you leave.”

the man scoffed as he crossed his arms, “actually, it would be best if you left. i was having a great time with her.”

dan felt his blood boil and he glared at him, “that’s my fiancée, and i suggest you get away from her immediately.”

“or what?” the man spat back. “for being her fiancé, you certainly don’t act like one.” without thinking, dan shoved the man against the wall, his arm pressed firmly over his chest, “you have some nerve to speak to your High Elder in such a way. I told you — stay away from her. you should be thankful i’m not throwing you into the Shackling Prison for being an ass.”

the man’s eyes widened as he started sobering up enough to realize how badly he fucked up. he squeaked and nodded furiously, “i-i’m so sorry, your highness! it won’t happen again!”

he’d step back and let him run off quickly. turning back to you he saw your cheeks burning red with embarrassment, and his demeanor immediately changed back to stoic. he approached you and began to walk away with you, his hand wrapped around your waist, “i believe i owe you an apology. i didn’t realize i wasn’t acting as much of a fiancé as I thought i was.”

and ever since that day, he made sure he always had his arm around you in some way, and made it very, very clear that you were his fiancée.

he’d pretty much be the same as dan heng, except way more passionate and dominating about it. he’s not afraid to entirely let his guard down in private with you, especially about anything sexual, so absolutely be prepared for a long, pleasure filled night

he’d be very dominate but definitely a pleasure dom … most of the time lol, other times he’d just be absolutely rough with you if he was really, really feeling jealous or possessive

he would not be afraid to leave a lot of marks - it made him proud that others would absolutely know you’re taken just by one glance at your neck, and he wasn’t ashamed of it, either. he knew he fucked up early on, and he made sure to always make up for it, especially in bed

and yes — part of the reason why he’s so protective over you is because you are a short life species. it absolutely destroys him that while you will grow old and spend the rest of your life with him, he cannot share the same blessing with you, and he absolutely hates himself for it. it’s not fair.

that’s why any time anyone tried anything with you, he’d get so angry over it because how dare they flirt with his one and only?

he also gave 0 fucks that some vidyadharans did not approve of you, in fact he loves to flaunt it in their faces now and kiss you at public events when he hears people murmur about the high elder and his “short-life woman.”

moral of the story, don’t fuck with the high elder’s woman or you’re a dead man

i hope this is what u had in mind alenfhehddhhd thank you for the request 🫶🏻

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hello! I don't know if requests are open, I'm sorry, but I have a request 🥹 You can ignore it if you want!

Imagine the reader dyeing her hair, and Logan doesn't really understand the concept, but thinks she looks really pretty, and then she asks him to dye the back part where she can't see 😭❤️‍🩹 just cute and loving

My requests are always open!

Logan always loved your hair. He thought you always had it so pretty, even when you just woke up and it was all over the place. He loved whatever shampoo you used it always made it so soft and smelt sweet. You changed your hair often and it always turned out amazing, Logan just assumed that you went to the salon to get your hair done, he knew that you did your nails at home you said it was too expensive to go out and get them done professionally so you just did it at the house. He hated the smell of the polish, but he did love seeing you having pretty nails, so he put up with it and sometimes he even helped paint your right hand. However, he had just assumed you got your hair done professionally, he never saw you do your hair at the house at it just looked too well done for an amateur.

He has been getting upset with you lately, and he didn't know how to tell you.

He always wanted to be the one who took care of you. He wanted to provide for you, no matter the cost or what it was. He just wanted you to have whatever you wanted in life, but you kept denying his offers to get your hair done. He was about to just make an appointment at some random salon and drive you there for it so you would stop arguing with him over dumb stuff like money.

.

.

He just got off work and was walking into the house, ready to not back down from the fight he knew was coming, but as he was walking into the house, a strong smell overwhelmed his senses. He groaned and scrunched up his nose "the fuck is that smell??"

You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Logan so soon. "Logan! You weren't supposed to be home for another hour!" You rushed back to the bathroom to try and clean up some of the hair product you've been using and to open the window to air out the room as best as you could.

"What is that smell?" Logan asked again, still not knowing what he was smelling. You cringed slightly and turned to him with the bowl of hair dye in your hands. "I was doing my hair, just a touch-up, but I-I thought you weren't going to be home for a while, so I thought I'd have time to air the house out. I know you're sensitive to smells and just assumed that the dye would be too strong for you."

Logan felt his heart swell slightly, hearing that you took his enhanced smell into consideration. "Do...do you need help?" He asked sort of bashfully. He took the bowl from your hand gently and mixed the dye with the brush. He cringed slightly from the smell, but he was ready to push through it to help you.

"Could you get the back for me? I don't think I got all of it" you turned around and showed him the back of your head and he bit back a laugh when he saw you missed a section of hair.

"Yeah, I got it, baby." he just told himself that he was painting... sort of? He really didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't want to mess up, so he just really lathered the dye on your hair and tried to not get it all over your skin. When he was done, he set the bowl down and tapped your shoulders, "Okay, I think I'm done now what?" You explained that you needed to set a timer and that you'd wash it out after it goes off. He nods and sets the timer for you.

He likes to think he is a patient man after living all of his years, but those 30 minutes felt like 30 years. Once the timer finally went off, he helped you wash your hair and watched as you dried and styled it. He was always excited to see how you ended up doing your hair but this time he was even more excited to see how it turned out and once you showed him how it turned out he couldn't help but feel pride knowing he was the one who helped you.

Taglist:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

[luvnoirs]

paige bueckers x fem!reader hcs !

warning(s): none ! (sfw)

she's so attentive like you can obviously tell during her interviews so she loves listening to you what you have to say. it doesn't even have to be a serious or heavy conversation. you could be talking about the weather and she'd be so tuned in like she's in love fr

date nights are mostly chill and cozy vibes. like you'll have movie nights or go to the beach if it's nice out. sometimes you'll stay in an do karaoke cause paige swears up and down that she can sing like sza. but then again paige loves spending quality time with you so she considers everything you do together a date

she'll point to you and say "this is for you" before she shoots the ball (she makes it of course) and then smooch at you

has a playlist dedicated just for you on her public apple music account with songs that remind her of you. it's mostly rnb vibes and "love" by keysha cole is the first song on there

calls you "princess"

like i said before she's big on physical touch so she likes to give back hugs and shoulder kisses

also clingy as hell... if she's had a busy day with school and/or practice and hasn't seen you in a while, prepare to be suffocated by her the second she she's you

paige always thinks she's right so you two are always arguing (nothing too serious just dumb stuff mostly)

"you did not just say drake's best album is 'thank me later'..."

if the argument is serious and she's mad at you or vice versa, it literally never lasts more than five minutes because she hates not seeing you happy. she'll even admit she's wrong

she'll wrap her long arms around you as you face the opposite direction with your arms crossed and a frown on your face. she bends down to place a kiss on the side of your face before her head falls into the crook of your neck. "i'm sorry..."

damn near forces you to play fortnite with her and hypes you up every time you get a kill. she'll be so proud of you too with a stupid smile on her face as she watches you play

all her tiktok drafts are full of those cheesy ass slideshows about your relationship but she makes sure to post the 'what's up riri/what's up rocky' one publicly for everyone to see how cute yall are

she's definitely not one of those people who controls what their s/o wears so if you want to wear something revealing, she'll be all for it

very protective but not to the point where it's consuming or overwhelming. like if you're walking on the sidewalk she'll always make sure she's on the side closest to the street

when it comes to gifts she loves to do the most. like she already loves spoiling you so if it's christmas or valentines day she'll be stressing about making sure your gift is perfect. she's lowkey a romantic too so she'll get you the traditional red roses and scatter rose petals along the floor in your bedroom, and then gets red faced when you tease her about how 'corny' it is (you love it tho)

on the more sensitive side she lets her guard down around you. if she's upset about anything she'll vent to you or cry it out as you rub her back and wipe her tears

calls you her "wife" especially when referring to you while talking to other people like yall are so locked in

pls lemme know if you want more or send some requests thru my asks lmao

[gardening--tools]

Fallout 4 Companions and Cursing.

This came to me in a dream.

Questions answered: Do they curse? If so, how and when? Do they care about folks cursing around them? How would they react to getting cursed at? How would they react to getting cursed at by someone they care about? How would they react to someone cursing at their friends? If they do curse, what do they think about folks who are sensitive to cursing? When applicable, what are their favorite swears?

disclaimer: the headcanons that follow are simply that. headcanons. they might not be yours but they are mine. if, at any point, you find yourself becoming upset at how strongly you disagree with said headcanons, you have my full and enthusiastic permission to click out of this post and carry on with your merry way. okay. love you, have fun <3

cw: swears and generally crass language. spoilers for companion story arcs. quality not guaranteed.

Ada. Does Not Curse. Because they have not been programmed to. She does not mind cursing. Again, because she has not been programed to care. If you curse at them or their friends, she'll probably make a dispassionate comment. Something along the lines of, "According to your language, you are experiencing significant emotional distress. I recommend having an honest discussion about the source of this distress with a trusted companion, or walking away." Devastating. There is no comeback for that. As always, Ada remains The Most Chill companion, second only to Dogmeat.

Cait. Does Curse. Curses all the time. Especially when she's feeling unsafe or insecure. Even so, she is explicit and has no problem with it. Nothing is off the table for her. Of course, if someone is cursing at her and it's obvious they mean it. Well. She won't have anything to say because she's already swinging. Much more inclined to fight if you're cursing at her friends. If y'all are close and you curse her out, the severity of the swears used will determine the punishment. It ranges from a yelling match to getting your ass handed to you. As a fellow reactive person who processes her emotions outwardly, she Gets It. She would forgive you afterward, if you apologize sufficiently. (And honestly, she probably has things to apologize for, too. Unless you were being a real piece of work.) If you keep being an asshole, she'll beat you within an inch of your life and tell you fuck off forever. But literally why would you? Cait rules. Big believer in friends affectionately calling each other names, but do not try this unless y'all are close. Your funeral, if you do. She won't comment on it if you have a problem with swears, but will think you're weird. A healthy Cait will even do her best to stop cursing around you if it makes you uncomfortable. She stops cursing so much when she gets clean, anyway. I mean, she still does it, but she no longer feels like she has to constantly defend herself and gets better at articulating her feelings in a healthy way, so it just naturally peters out. Favorite swears: cunt and fuck.

Codsworth. Does Not Curse and gets very offended if you do curse around him. He is a family friendly robot, thank you very much. Comments on it every single time. "Mum, that is not a nice word." Just don't do it around him, it'll save you a headache. Uses euphemisms if he's feeling particularly strongly. The degree to which he will tolerate cursing at him varies on how close you two are, with his tolerance being less when y'all are closer. He's a robot built to be a butler. He's literally programmed to take abuse from strangers. If y'all are closer he has no qualms about letting you know how he feels about it, and he will refuse to speak to you if you take it too far. He'd likely allow you to apologize and repair the relationship, but only after a long silent treatment and lots of passive aggressive huffing. Out of all the companions, he's the most conservative about cursing.

Curie. Does Not Curse... in English. Curses frequently in French. Would/Will curse in English when taught, but honestly French curses just sound better. And, if you have an issue with cursing, she can still do it without making you uncomfortable. And she can curse you out covertly if she feels inclined to. If she transitions into a synth body, she actually curses more. Because she has Human Emotions now, and discovers the joy of calling someone an "asshole" when they're being, well, an asshole. Master at calling you the most horrendous names while sounding like she is engaging in pleasant conversation. (I mean, she was stuck in a room with a bunch of weirdo scientists who manic-pixie-dream-girl'd her. She had to be.) How she feels about different words depends on the context. Swearing in general—like after you stub your toe—doesn't bother her. She will lightly scold you if you are swearing unnecessarily in polite company. In this she's a bit of a hypocrite, because she also swears in polite company. She just does it in French so she doesn't get caught. If you're cursing at her or her friends, she cares very much and finds you to be uncouth. And she will tell you as much. If someone close to her curses at her, she will progressively get more frustrated the more it goes on. She starts off by genuinely asking after your emotional well-being. (If this solves the problem and you two work it out, she does expect you to apologize. Otherwise, she will get mad and she will let you know about it.) If you keep on and you're just being an asshole, she'll also yell and curse at you, and eventually kick you out. She'll still treat you and speak to you professionally, but she absolutely would not forgive you. This lady holds a grudge. Favorite words: merde and con/conne.

Danse. Does Not Curse. Listen. I get that this man is a soldier. I get that he spent some portion of his life as a junker in the Capital Wastelands. I get it. And still, he has a Complex about cursing. He blushes if he even thinks about saying fuck. Would rather vomit than call someone a bitch. (Also, he respects women and would never.) If he's feeling spicy, he'll say "damn" or "hell." And it gives him a little thrill every single time. Doesn't mind when other people curse around him. He is a soldier and spends a lot of time around folks who have... fewer apprehensions when it comes to colorful language. He just can't bring himself to do it and would rather find other ways to express himself. And honestly? It's always way more scathing than if he called you a name. He also doesn't care much if someone is cursing at him. Mostly because he's a Paladin and has more important things to care about than what some disgruntled Knight or civilian thinks about him. If it's someone under his station, he will go through the appropriate channels and either reprimand or report them for insubordination. And, if it's someone above his station, he will take the abuse like a Good Soldier and do his best to correct the behavior which led to his dressing-down. (He's a little more insecure post-Blind Betrayal, but only about insults pertaining to him being a synth. If someone called him an asshole, he'd probably just scoff at them and walk away. Unbothered king.) That being said, if someone he cares about cursed him out and meant it, he would think about it for days. Months, even. Don't curse at him. Both pre- and post-Blind Betrayal, he Can Not Handle It. If an argument gets nasty and y'all are post-Blind Betrayal, he probably shuts down and goes somewhere to process privately before y'all can come together and work it out. Either way, he's internalizing what you say. Is liable to put up with lots of abuse before calling it quits with someone. (But literally why would you, you monster.) Cursing at other people—especially people he cares about, but this man is committed to treating everyone everywhere equally all the time—is a sure-fire way to get yourself scolded.

Deacon. Does Curse... conditionally. Some disguises require him to be less crass with his language; others, more. Deacon Prime does curse in conversation, but he's, like, chill about it, you know? He's not swearing every other word, but he'll throw a "bitch" or a "damn" into the ring every now and again. Sometimes, when he's bored, he'll try to make up a new curse word and see if he can't get you to laugh. Or Carrington to tell him off. (Bonus points of he gets him to say "fuck off, Deacon.") Very chill about you cursing around him. Unless you are supposed to be undercover and are inappropriately swearing. Depending on the situation, a swear word can be a giant, glaring neon red flag that attracts more attention than you need. That's the only time he'll take serious issue with it. Of course, if you are uncomfortable with swearing, he's very good about censoring himself around you. Again, he has to put on lots of disguises that require him to keep it clean. It's no sweat to do it for you, his Best Buddy. He's too easy-going to really get offended when he is cursed at. (And a sick, little part of him takes pleasure in it, reminding him that he deserves every word.) If he really cares about you, it hurts far more, and almost certainly will cause him to go ghost. It's a honestly dice toss whether or not he'll come back to clear the air. In public, he probably won't stand up for a friend getting cursed at. Instead would look for a covert way to diffuse the situation that doesn't require him getting directly involved. Absolutely defends a friend should they be getting a dress-down in HQ, though. Favorite swears: damn, bastard, and whatever goofy swear/phrase he most recently strung together that got him a laugh.

Dogmeat. Dog. Wags his tail even if you call him a "stinky little bastard man." Loves you no matter what <3

Gage. Does Curse, but less than you would expect a raider to. I mean, it is still a lot. But also he has shit to do and most of that does not require him to talk. In fact, he would rather not talk. Just shut up and let him work. (No, this absolutely does not have anything to do with his mama rinsing out his mouth with vinegar whenever he swore as a child. Who told you that? Shut up.) So neutral about swearing that, if you asked him about it, he'd probably say that he doesn't curse. Doesn't even register curse words as curse words when he hears them. They're just fuckin' words, why do you have to be so uptight about them? Somehow, this changes when someone is cursing at someone he cares about. He's not liable to get into a brawl—another very un-raiderlike thing about him—but he'll absolutely get into a swearing match with the offender. Probably starts planning for an "accident" to happen to 'em later down the line, too. Doesn't care about folks cursing around him or even at him. If you're talking to him, chances are you're a fuckin' moron and your opinion isn't worth a lick of salt. Cares a little bit (a lot) more if someone he cares about is doing the cursing, but he's the King of Emotional Constipation and shoves that shit right on down to hell. He gives tit for tat. If you're getting nasty, he'll get nasty right on back. Like Danse, he will put up with a lot of verbal abuse before he's really pushed over the edge. And similarly to Cait, he thinks you're a fuckin' weirdo if you have a Complex about swearing. Unlike Cait, he almost certainly will comment on it. Absolutely will not censor himself if you have an issue with it. The hell you hangin' 'round raiders for, if you've got a problem with a few swears? Suck it up. (Even a domesticated Gage would not censor his swears. He would hang on to that little bit of crudeness as a personal rebellion, to still feel like a raider and a badass even if he's—ugh—helpin' civilized folk. Unless he's around kids. He's very strict about not cursing around kids, somehow.) Favorite swears: shit and damn. The classics.

Hancock. Does Curse. A lot. Almost like he's trying to do it as often as he can. He's not. That's just how he is after spending most of his life around the outcasts and vagabonds of the Commonwealth. Doesn't even clock swears in conversation. Second dirtiest mouth out of all the companions. Yes, he does beat Gage. (Mostly on the technicality that he talks far more than Gage ever will. But that's neither here nor there.) Like Deacon, he will also try to come up with outrageous phrases to be silly. And, like Cait, he is also a fan of affectionate name-calling, but is a lot more casual about it. This man just does not care about cursing. And if those curses are aimed at him? Sorry you feel that way buddy. Calling him names? Lmao okay. Maybe he'll make an example out of the offender, if he feels like it would be politically advantageous for him to do so. But otherwise, he just can not find it in himself to give a damn. This changes drastically if someone he cares about curses at him. Obviously, this is a grown man and he can take a yelling match if you need to get it out of your system and you two take the time to talk about it and appropriately apologize afterwards. But if you're being an asshole? If you're trying to hurt him? Jesus, it would devastating for him. Honestly, I think it would take one time. Just once for someone he trusted to curse him out or call him names and he would be almost irrevocably shattered. I don't think he'd even get mad. I think he would shut down immediately and completely. If he doesn't leave for Goodneighbor right away, he will soon. I do think you could repair that damaged trust, but it would take a long, long, long time. (And rightly so, you degenerate.) Now, should someone choose to curse at his friends while he's around? Hancock is not opposed to some gratuitous violence. He might give the diplomacy route, like, a shot. But, like Cait, he is almost immediately swinging. Or stabbing. Or shooting. If you're uncomfortable with swearing, he's going to do his best to censor himself, but is not always going to be successful. Give him a little grace. Favorite swears: hell and bastard.

Longfellow. What the fuck do you think? Dirtiest mouth out of all the companions. By miles. It's not even close. He could make a raider blush. He says words that you didn't even think existed. Deacon and Hancock combined could not come up with vocabularies colorful enough to compete with Longfellow's repertoire. Does not mind others cursing. Does not mind folks cursing at him or his friends. Does not give a flopping fishy fuck even if y'all are close and you're trying to hurt him with words. Why the fuck would he be bothered by that? What, you're trying to hurt his feelings? Son, he's seen things that would make you shit and piss and vomit all over yourself all at once. Swear at him as much as you'd like, y'all've got shit to do. I genuinely do not think you could ruin your relationship with this man with your words. He'll curse you out right back, and things might get awkward for a time; but, at the end of the day, he's still sharing his whiskey and you'll still have a place in his cabin safe from the Fog. He's too damn old to let words said in anger affect his relationships. In the Cait and Gage boat of thinking you're odd if you are uncomfortable with cursing. Will maybe comment on it once, but cannot be bothered to really care. If y'all are close, he'll try to censor himself. Of course, he does this by catching himself cursing, and then correcting himself by saying a different curse word instead. Listen. He's Surly Grandpa, what else are you expecting? Favorite swears: [REDACTED] and [REDACTED].

MacCready. Famously Does Not Curse. If he weren't so dedicated to censoring himself, he'd give Hancock a run for his money. He even censors his inner monologue, that's how dedicated he is to his son. (Aw.) He does the thing where he will start to say a swear, catch himself, and drag out that first syllable for a long time while trying to think of the alternative. Before he finds the cure for his son, he's a lot more self-flagellating about the curses that do slip through. He keeps a mental tally that he beats himself up about. Stops doing this so much after he finds the cure, and stops completely after he brings Duncan to the Commonwealth. He actually does care a little bit about folks cursing around him, only because it's harder for him to keep up his censor if the folk around him are liberal with their foul language. He would rather die than admit this. (He's still, like, 22 and wants to look cool so so bad. Please tell him he's cool.) Liable to get riled up when someone is cursing at him or his friends. Always offers to "take this outside," even though he has never won a fist fight once in his life. Also not one to get emo about a verbal argument with a friend or loved one, even if it devolves into cursing. He is actually surprisingly good at talking it out. After y'all both walk away to cool off, of course. That being said, if you're trying to hurt him on purpose, he's more than happy to tell you where you can shove it. Has a shorter fuse about you being an asshole than other companions, and is a strong contender for Curie when it comes to holding a grudge. If you're also sensitive about cursing and he thinks he can save face by doing so, he totally jumps at the chance to dump the reason for not cursing on you. "Yeah this one is pre-tty sensitive. Gotta watch the language 'round them." (Judas.) His favorite swear was (and still is) "fuck."

Nick Valentine. Does Not Curse... conditionally. Has arbitrary rules when it comes to cursing. He doesn't need to swear in order to emotionally obliterate you. Obviously he still says swears—shit, damn, hell—but he doesn't even really consider those to be swears anyway. And he's not above calling the occasional raider, "bastard." But that kind of crass language has its time and place. Does not curse in the presence of polite company. Certainly does not call people names. (Unless they really, really deserve it. Or really, really piss him off.) Hates it when folks curse heavily or are overly explicit around him. Finds it distasteful and unnecessary. Should he find it to be too excessive, he will scold you for it. Or make a snide comment. Both are painful. And don't even dare call someone he cares about—or, worse, a lady—a name in his presence. You are not surviving. Hope Dr. Sun offers therapy. Curse at him and he's not flinching. Pops has seen and heard too much in this life and the life before to not be desensitized to hurtful words said by an angry client or crook. And even if he wasn't, living openly as a synth in Diamond City has sufficiently toughened his "skin." He'll even take a bit of cursing and name-calling from someone he's close to, as evidenced by in-game interactions. He's not going to take it lying down, but it's not enough to ruin y'all's relationship. He certainly understands Big Emotions enough to know that not everything said in anger should be taken to heart. And he's level-headed enough to navigate those Big Emotions with you, whether or not you needed a moment to cool off. I think he would have a breaking point though, but he'd likely not get angry. I think it'd be a very quiet, "Now why'd you go and say a thing like that?" Very much like Hancock, I think once that trust is gone, it's obliterated. You might be able to salvage it afterwards, but again. It would take a very long time and almost certainly it would require you to make some very real changes about yourself. Now,—save for the insults found in very dredges of assholery—if you can make him laugh, he's far more lenient about your cursing. But you'd better be sure he's going to laugh before you try. In this case, if Longfellow is Surly Grandpa, Nick is Hypocrite Grandpa. (Love you, Nicky, but it's true <3) Favorite swears: shit, damn, hell, bastard, dickhead, dumbass... Seriously, Nick? It's okay when you call me a dumbass, but when I tell someone to "suck my dick" it's suddenly not okay to use "that sort of language–"

Piper. Does Curse. She's the kid who was raised not to curse, and found it unbearably funny to do so. Until, of course, she became Nat's guardian. Then she realized that– oh, actually it's probably not a good idea to swear so openly around a child. Except, she was really awful about censoring herself in that way. So instead, she'll swear, break away mid-conversation, look at Nat and say, "don't say that word," and then continue. This worked when Nat was younger. Not so much recently. ("...that fucking jerk. Nat, don't say that word." "What word? Jerk?" "Nat. You know what I mean." "Whatever you fucking say, Piper." "Natalie Olivia Wright.") Of course, Piper feels like a huge failure as a Big Sister/Parent because of it. Ow. Luckily, Piper isn't actually that big on cursing to begin with. She's a writer. And she's catty as hell. She's firmly in the Does Not Need To Swear To Ruin Your Day camp. She's not above it though, is what I'm getting at. Whether or not she cares about other folks' cursing depends on the situation. If it's excessive, or exceptionally explicit, or around Nat,—or any other children, really—she takes issue with it. Otherwise, who cares. Words are words are words. Sometimes "fuck" is necessary to communicate the right emotion. Like Nick, she is totally desensitized to folks cursing her out. She's an investigative reporter. People get mad at her. It comes with the territory. Hates it, but she gets really sensitive about it if someone she cares about curses at her or calls her names. She's the kind of person to cry when she's really angry. So if you were to insult her and really mean it, she'd start to tear up, and then get even angrier because it makes her feel stupid. This all builds until y'all are screaming at each other and lasts until one of y'all storms off. The length of the silent treatment that follows depends on the severity of the context. If y'all were arguing and things were said in the heat of the moment, Piper might go through a day-or-two long period of insisting that y'all will never have anything to do with each other ever again. And then she'll cool off and realize that– well, actually she said some nasty things, too, and maybe it would be better to talk this out than to let the friendship wither up and die. After y'all process the Big Emotions privately, she's very good at coming together and clearing the air. She'll apologize (and mean it) and you'll apologize (and you'd better mean it) and the air will be cleared. If you were just being an asshole to be an asshole though? Bye. Piper can hold a grudge forever. Contrary to fanon, I do not think she would be petty enough to write about you in her newspaper. But she is a young adult that was parentified as a child. I don't think she'd forgive someone who was trying to be hurtful for no reason, especially after giving them her trust. If someone were to curse out her friends in front of her, she would only a little bit think about running a smear campaign against them. Of course she won't, since she's such a Good Person. She'll just tell the offender off instead, but is mostly focused on pulling the two of you away from the situation. If you are genuinely uncomfortable with cursing... good luck. Piper isn't any better at censoring herself just because you're not her little sister. She does apologize profusely every time she catches herself, though. So, thoughts that count and all that. Favorite swears: damn and motherfucker.

(And here, dear friend, is where I inform you of the "Man Shall Not Call Women Bitches or Other Similarly Gendered Insults" Alliance between Cait, Curie and Piper. Call a woman an asshole? Tell her to go to hell? All fine, all good. Have the audacity to be a man and call a woman a bitch? In front of these three??? Don't look at me. I can't help you. Only Atom can help you now. Even if it was "deserved." There is no holding back with those three, and they absolutely enable each other. Your physical, emotional, and mental well-being cannot be guaranteed. You have been warned.)

Preston. Does Curse. He's just that kind of guy that won't curse until he knows what your feelings on it are. If you're uncomfortable, he will never ever swear around you. (Maybe if y'all are in dire circumstances, but come on. Everybody gets a pass in those.) If you are comfortable or swear yourself, he lets loose. I've said it before and I'll say it again. This man is a soldier and has been since he was seventeen. There isn't a lot that's off the table. Though, like Deacon, he isn't often explicit or excessive. However. He will not say bitch or any similarly gendered insults. Not even motherfucker. (I'm almost certain this goes against canon dialogue but who cares. I know this man like I know my soul. Whoever wrote that single line of dialogue was confused, and that's all I'll hear on it.) He'll say "son of a gun" instead of "son of a bitch." And even then, that's pushing it too closely for his liking. He won't say them to anybody, and certainly not to a woman. And he gets kinda itchy if he's around guys who do. He'll probably say something. (Usually a firm, "Knock it off, man.") It's not like he won't insult a woman. Just like he won't hold back if he has to fight a woman. (Because, you know, women can be raiders and Gunners, too. And he certainly has killed enough of both to know.) But he won't ever disrespect a woman. You know that scene in Deadpool? When Colossus and Matchstick Lady are fighting, and Colossus stops to inform her that her shirt has slipped and accidentally exposed herself to him? And he lets her fix it before they continue fighting? That's the energy Preston has. (Preston Garvey, Respecter of Women, your hand in marriage.) Other than that, he really doesn't mind folks cursing around him. He may take issue with it if it's in an inappropriate setting. It's not enough to piss him off, and it doesn't really offend him personally. He's just cognizant of the situation and, if it's looking like explicit language might hinder your goals, he'll nip it in the bud. He'll get annoyed if folks curse at him, but is more prone to tell them to relax and not much else. He is not above being the first person to walk away from a situation. If it's someone he cares for and trusts cursing at him, it's a little different, but not much. If y'all are arguing and it's getting heated, he would much rather take a break and then come back once heads are cooler. He's not one to get offended by heat-of-the-moment words. If you're explicitly trying to hurt him, he actually would get a little angry at you. Mostly because you're being fucking weird and what you're doing is totally unnecessary. If you back off and apologize, give him a little time to be upset and annoyed at you before y'all get back to it. If you don't? Cold professionalism. Either way, he's not afraid to tell you to fuck off. Depending on how far you took it will determine whether or not you can salvage the relationship, but do not expect him to make it easy for you. He is a Very Vocal defender of his friends when they are on the receiving end of some angry swears. When he was younger, he was more prone to fisticuffs, but has gotten better at diplomacy in his old age. (He's 28.) He's not afraid to use his body mass to put distance between his pal and the offender, and will keep his face stone-cold stoic while he calmly tells them to back off. Favorite swears: damn and hell.

Strong. Does Not Curse. Doesn't have to. If he's mad enough to curse at you, you're already dead. Doesn't care about folks cursing at or around him, because humans are stupid and half the time he's not paying attention to what you're saying. Also doesn't give a shit if you curse at or insult him. He'll laugh at you. He thinks you're funny. Why would puny human's word hurt Strong? Strong stronger than puny words. Human go away if not want to travel with Strong. Surprisingly, he actually is paying enough attention to know whether or not someone cursing at you is hurting you. And he actually will do something about it. That something is usually very bloody. Hey. Don't take Strong into bars. Even if he doesn't understand your weird, stupid emotions, he will offer you a limb from the victim to make you feel better. ...thank you, Strong.

X6-88. Does Not Curse. He's a Courser. He doesn't have to curse. If he felt the need to curse, it would imply that he felt the need to make threats. And Coursers don't need to make threats, because Coursers are threats. This does not mean that he's not a snarky bitch. But, more than any other companion, he will effortlessly find the most humiliating, scathing thing he can say in that moment and say it so eloquently that it makes you feel like you've been slapped in the face with a luxurious silk glove. A luxurious silk glove that has sliced through your cheek and now you're bleeding all over the ground. Maybe Nick gives him a run for his money, but it's close. Very close. Likewise, he doesn't care about other people cursing around him at all. Usually, those swearing at him are his victims. And he understands that swearing is a sign of weakness, and he appreciates his targets advertising their fragility so willingly. (You are thinking about fifty different ways to call me an asshole. I am thinking about fifty different ways to kill you in two moves or less. We are not the same <3) Whether or not he minds you cursing at him depends on the context. If he says something snarky, and that causes you to turn around and curse him out? A tiny, private part of him thinks it's funny and revels in this. He thinks you're amazing. He views you as this all-powerful, unflappable deific figure. And he caused you to react? You will not be able to see it—in part because he refuses to show it, and also because you are too busy yelling at him to notice—but he's over the moon. (This is only, only if you two have an established rapport. If you are not close, he keeps his mouth shut if he thinks it'll make you mad. He would not risk getting sent to S.R.B. for pissing you off.) However, if you were intentionally trying to insult him? Well, you'd never know it, but he immediately and completely shuts down. Nope. That's it, all done. No more friendship. Ever. He tried and it failed and now he knows that it's not worth it and was a mistake. Would totally end whatever relationship y'all had and any chance of him breaking away from Institute brainwashing and coming into his own as a person. (Death by a thousand molerats to you who dares bring this upon my Son. A pox on your house.) X6 is not above killing someone who curses at you. He might do it in public, or he might follow them into an alleyway later. It really depends on how much it annoys him. He, of course, won't admit that he's annoyed by it. That would imply that he cares about you. Which he doesn't. He just thinks you're Neat and it's actually an insult to him when someone insults you. Which of course he doesn't care about, because Coursers don't feel insulted. It's just that an insult to you is an insult to the Institute and it's his duty as a Courser and your Protector to deal with direct threats to the Institute. Which is what that person was. Yeah. He's not malfunctioning at all. Nope, no sir.

And, because it's my post and I want to,

My Sole Survivors and Cursing.

You can skip this part if you want <3

Ripley. Does Curse. Frequently and without abandon. Only, she just doesn't talk all that much, so you wouldn't know it when you meet her. And they really do try to be cognizant of the situation. Only, she doesn't really do well around civilized folk to begin with, and sometimes they get nervous. Be patient with them. Depending on the tone, she doesn't care much about others' cursing. Is very sensitive to it if it's angry or directed at her. She's not sensitive like, shut down and cower sensitive. She's sensitive like a cornered animal is sensitive. They get all quiet and waits to see if they need to bite. One should exercise caution when cursing at her, especially if you shout. Will not react verbally, but will go very, very still. Until you've passed a threshold, and then they attack blindly. Maybe with fists, probably with words. Very prone to saying awful things out of anger and then running away. Will not seek to remedy the situation first. If you want to fix things, you're gonna have to be the one to do it. And you must do it with all the delicacy of coaxing a frightened animal out of a corner. Watch your fingers. Will kill someone for cursing at her friends. <3 Don't fucking try her <3 If you're comfy with cursing, you actually probably don't have to worry at all. They have to talk to you to swear at you. And depending on how close you are, she would rather die than do that. And if you are close, they care very much about how you feel and would take extra care to censor herself. Favorite swears: dipshit and fuckass. (She likes combo words very much.)

Steve. Does Not Curse and will clutch his pearls if you do. He may look big and scary, but Boston's Golden Boy is actually a huge baby and is super sensitive when it comes to cursing. If the threat is physical, he can deal with it physically. If it's someone cursing at him? Baby boy needs someone to come save him, he does not know what to do. If someone he cares about curses at him? Tears. He's gone. He's in a funk for three whole days. He won't know how to address it and unless you approach him first, he's going to be super awkward around you until the end of forever. Lottie was really good for him about that. Now that she's gone? Well. He's much better about it when it's someone he cares about being subjected to angry swears. Again, the man is Big. He knows this and will Get Up In Your Face. Will offer to "take this outside." But he can actually mess you up. It's probably best if you just leave with your tail between your legs.

Lottie. Does Not Curse. Got in the habit of not cursing when she found out she was pregnant with Shaun, and it just stuck. Instead she uses increasingly unhinged euphemisms that are almost worse. ("Stick my left shoe in a toaster oven." "Crap in the corn-hole." "Shoot a root." You get the gist.) Stevie hated it when he was alive. (Oops.) She doesn't give a flack if someone curses at her. Honey, she's tangled with all sorts of bad customers in her day. You can take your bad attitude and walk backwards into heck for all she cares. Will only let it come to blows if she's really really pushed. If she's cursed at by a friend, she's more likely to escalate the situation than walk away. She's not always the best at acknowledging when it's the best time to back off. Her cool-down time is just as short as her temper, though, and usually smooths things over within the day. She's also fairly good at acknowledging where she went wrong in these situations. (You had better do the same, or y'all are gonna be right back where you started.) If you're being intentionally insulting, or being an asshole for assholery's sake, you're getting slapped. She'll forgive you, though, if you really grovel and clean up your act. Gets all up in someone's face if they're cursing at her friends. She's not a short woman. She absolutely uses her height to her advantage. And there's something particularly scary about a wasteland woman who takes the time to meticulously do her hair and nails squaring up to you without flinching. I wouldn't want to mess with her; and, if you're smart, you won't either.

Jude. Does Not Curse. Left over habit from her days trying to not get Clocked As A Communist. If she's feeling particularly angry or stressed, and she feels safe, she'll let a couple through. But otherwise, she's found other ways to... express herself. I mean, she's a little pretentious and has a degree in English Literature. She's gonna put that to use when she needs to humble a fool. Doesn't care at all if people curse around her. She used to hang out with good, honest blue-collar folk. She's so deaf to cursing, you have to point it out to her for her to notice. Similarly, she doesn't really react when being cursed at. Either the offender is upset about something—in which case, she'd rather listen than get upset. And she often tries to work it out with the person, if she can. —or they are just not worth her time, and she doesn't need to be concerned with what they are saying to and about her. If you were close to her and cursed her out with the intention to hurt her, she'd probably shut down. She would stay there and listen, of course, but she wouldn't be There. She'd disassociate until she could leave the situation and, depending on the severity of the offense, may be floaty for a few days before coming back. It would take time to rebuild the damaged trust, but it would be possible. Very quick to jump to the defense of a friend. Her first instinct is to diffuse the situation as much as possible, or at least to create an opportunity to leave. She'll put her body between the offender and her friend, and speak as gently as she can in an effort to distract and calm the offender. Favorite swears: bitch and cunt. (Only if she's feeling especially incensed though.)

[coupleoffanfics]

Part 2 of Batfam and batsis y/n headcons

Masterlist

It was a surprise to see y/n at the of the manor one night after her "outburst" that was a couple months ago. Alfred is happy to see her but notices her troubled expression. She greets him and asks if Bruce was here.

Entering the Batcave for the first time in years, it hasn't changed too much from what y/n remembers. The first to notice her walk in is Damian. "Sister, what are you doing here?" It's always so weird hearing him call her that now. He's never called he that until her "outburst".

This gets the attention of Tim and Babs, making them look away from the monitor. Tim is glad to see her again and hopefully, she is here to mend their broken, not completely burnt, bridges. Babs is also glad to see her as they haven't been communicating as much this past week, but concerned as to what brought her here. She has a feeling that y/n wouldn't come here without a reason.

"I need to talk to Bruce." Damian is almost upset that y/n didn't say she came to see him. He doesn't even have to open his mouth as Bruce is right behind her. Bruce makes his presence known which made y/n jolt up a bit.

Turns around to see him suited up just like the others. Not seeing his full face made her more comfortable oddly.

She takes a deep breath before talking, "I want to clarify that I'm talking to Batman and not Bruce Wayne. I have some information and I desperately need your help." Everyone's interest was already peaked before she said anything.

Bruce watches her pointer finger curl around her hair, her eyes shifted away from him, and her shoulders somehow become even more tense. "Jerome is looking for someone, not me, but I'm worried about them. Wait not looking for he's found them and I- ugh, I'm sure you've already done a background check on him. He has a twin brother and he supposedly wants him dead. I'm…"

All their eyes on her were worsening her anxiety. "I'm best friends with him, Jeremiah Valeska." Babs is already putting the pieces together that Xander Wilde was just an alias. She does remember thinking that they look similar, but she's only met y/n's boyfriend a handful of times and never looked that deep into Jerome's relatives. There wasn't any need to look at his family as long as they aren't committing illegal acts with him.

"Jerome, he did something to Jeremiah. There was this gas and it messed him up. He…" y/n was trying not to get too emotional from talking about a topic that was sensitive to her. "He's not right in the head anymore. It's almost like he's turning into Jerome. He's losing control, he knew a week ago that something is wrong but now he's saying…"

Their eyes and her various feelings on the matter were making her feel that this was a dead end. It's been nearly three months and things have been getting progressively worse. As she looks at Bruce and all she expects is to be rejected. To tell her that she was overreacting and that time was going to heal whatever this mess was.

y/n looked Bruce in the eyes and for the first desperately begged, "Please. Please help find a cure or something to end Jeremiah's madness. I…" She choked back the urge to say that she loved him. There wasn't a need for that and she'd rather keep them in the dark about her life. "…I don't want to lose my best friend. I know you're busy, but I had try asking. Just tell me now if you'd be able to help in any way possible and I'll leave you alone."

This came out of nowhere, but with y/n looking Bruce in the eye with glassy and a scared look in her eyes. How could he say no? "I'll do everything I can, but I'll need a blood sample."

Anything that he said after that went in and out of y/n's ears. She was just relieved that she had the greatest detective help her. "Yeah, um, I can do that." Her voice was softer than a few seconds ago. She wiped the tears of relief with her palm and quickly made her way out of the cave.

Tim wanted to go after her, but Damian was already following behind her and Babs gave him a discouraging look. Babs finally understood why y/n has been so quiet these past weeks. She also knew that y/n needed time to herself and she'd hope that Damian would understand that. She thinks Bruce knew that as well as he stared at the exit for a moment before swiftly going back to work.

Damian kept calling out to his sister before grabbing her wrist. y/n really wanted to shake off his hand and tell him to just leave her alone. Though feeling how firm his grip is she knew it would probably be best to go with whatever to not trigger another meltdown. That was the last thing she ever wanted to see or deal with.

Genuinely though she didn't know why he followed her. It didn't matter if he was trying to repave their relationship, she always expects the worst to come out of his mouth. As a shield, she says what he thinks he'll say. Putting herself down before he or anyone can do it.

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't be down there. It's no place for me and I get in the way. I'm not going to lie and say I'm fully sorry. I am, but I need to try everything to save him, and if that means you'll all have to bear witness to a living failure once more then so be it."

Damian is stuck by her words again and lets go of her as if her skin burns him. He was unsure of how to respond to that, but that wasn't the reason he was there. He tells her with full confidence, "Father will find a cure. Your friend will be okay."

She doesn't look at him. Surprised that he didn't degrade her and slightly smiling that he was comforting her. "Thank you, Damian, that was nice of you to say." Then walks out of the manor just like last time, but this night Damian can fall asleep without regretting eating him alive.

Bruce hires a team of toxicologists. Buys a whole new laboratory for the team. Making sure that there is progress being made while he's not working on it. Tim is the one who spends the most time searching for a cure.

The day after y/n would make her regular trip to the psychiatric hospital with Tim watching from a distance. Tim wasn't stalking y/n he'd claim fully knowing that's exactly what he's doing. He just felt that something was missing and he just wanted to know. He was sick of all her secretiveness. He's given y/n some space after her "outburst" unlike Damian and Dick. So he feels like he could do this because it's not like he forcing her to be around him like the other two.

But regardless the stalking. He was concerned about seeing y/n walk into a mental hospital. It wasn't Arkham, but personally knowing her track record of depressive episodes made him wonder why she was here. Was she admitting herself again?

y/n going through a mental low is difficult no matter how many times Tim sees and helps her through it. She'd stop having this bubbly aura around her. Not being able to get out of bed. There were few times she talked of how hopeless and empty she felt. When she had these episodes they'd never last a few days. They'd always be a week and the worse he's personally seen it last for 2 months. Then the mental image of her dealing with this on her own and coming to the point that she felt the need to admit herself was devastating to him in many ways.

Disguised as part of the staff, Tim followed y/n. Quickly realizing that she wasn't admitting herself, but visiting. He stood by the door of the patient's room that she dispersed in and closed the door. Interestingly Echo walked out of the room at one point and went back.

Seeing y/n standing by the door and about to leave, Tim quickly put some distance between himself and her. Watching y/n, Echo, and a man wearing a hat walk out. Following close behind as they left the hospital and entered the parking garage. He noticed how closely y/n and the man were walking together while Echo walked behind them.

Suddenly Echo came to a halt making the others stop and look at her. Then she ran full force toward Tim and pushed him against the concrete wall. A sharp knife pressed against his throat.

The handful of times Tim has seen Echo he's never seen her exhibit any emotion. There was a sort of underlying anger as she calmly ask who he was and why he following them. He's not able to get his mouth open because y/n runs up panicked while the man walks slowly.

y/n doesn't even need a second to see that it was Tim. Makes Echo let go of him before asking what he was even doing there. There is no good lie that he can come up with on the spot and he knew lying was just going to make y/n more upset than she already was.

"You never talk or are around anymore. You're so secretive now that it makes me worried." Tim would continue if he didn't notice y/n clench her jaw. He would have to be blind to not see y/n trying to keep her cool.

That's when the man placed his gloved hand on her shoulder. Just that simple action alone got rid of any tension in y/n. The man would introduce himself as Jeremiah.

Tim felt uncomfortable by Jeremiah. It could have been the fact that y/n did say his mental sanity has deteriorated, but Tim could just feel something was off with him. His bright green eyes remind Tim of someone. His face also looked to be caked with makeup and the way he talked was unnerving.

The three leave Tim behind. y/n stating that they'll talk about 'this' later. He goes back to the manor even more perplexed by everything.

Later that day y/n drops by the manor. Trying to be discreet as possible because she doesn't want to trigger Damian jumping out. Handing the blood sample to Bruce then turning her attention to Tim.

They have a long drawn-out conversation about what transpired earlier. Explaining why he felt the need to follow her and how he wants her to be open with him.

"— I want us to friends again." That made y/n's heart and mind stop for a moment. Just a moment because she immediately rebuttals. Not trying to mean when saying she doesn't want to be near any of them. That just things change, that they've changed, and they drifted apart. That he had nothing to worry about, but to also never do that again.

y/n spends most of her time with Jeremiah until she has classes and takes a minute to drop by the manor for any updates. Now that y/n is visiting the manor, Damian doesn't surprise her with visits anymore. Since she comes over quite often, daily almost.

He always tries to prolong her time there. He remembers the few things she's interested in. Art and fencing. He'll try almost bribe her to spend more time with him. Mentioning that he's going to an art museum or that he's done with his latest painting. It doesn't get her attention. Talks about how he's got tickets for a fencing match, but that doesn't interest y/n in the slightest.

It's like she's purposefully ignoring him. It's not the case, but that's beside the point. One day when y/n drops by and gets ready to leave, Damian walks up to her with one question. "Can you teach me how to fence?"

Taken aback the question y/n has to take a moment to register it. She sighs, "You're better off getting a professional trainer because I haven't held a saber or epee in a hot minute." She's not even trying to avoid Damian even though he just reminds her how much of a failure she is. She's just being honest.

The boy is becoming visibly frustrated. Panicking and remembering his last tantrum, y/n quickly says that she'll teach him the basics after her classes. Seeing that he was calming down y/n makes a quick escape.

After her last class, she sees Damian waiting right outside of her classroom. Once she's in his peripheral vision he tries to drag her back to the manor and into the newly established fencing room, but she needs to make a quick stop.

Will not let her go alone no matter what. So she kinda has no choice but to bring him along. It's nothing new. She makes a quick call informing someone that she'll have someone with her before jumping into her car. They take a long ride out of Gotham and into the woods. Making Damian wonder where the hell y/n is going.

The second one to meet Jeremiah is Damian. Jeremiah only politely greets him before leaving to talk with y/n in another room. The first impression Damian has of Jeremiah is not a good one. Highly suspicious of him and is not comfortable letting y/n be alone in a room with him. Low-key impressed by the labyrinth that Jeremiah calls his house and likes the interior of the living room. Every classy.

Would have put his ear against the door to hear what they were saying if it wasn't for Echo. She was staring him down. He's pretty sure she hasn't blinked since they got here. Going off what Tim said to the others about Echo possibly being y/n's lover, Damian wonders what y/n sees in Echo.

When they leave and get back into the car Damian brings up Echo. "Your girlfriend should learn how to blink." y/n almost stomped on the breaks. "Girlfriend...? Echo?" She's very confused. "Who else am I talking about." This is when she learns that the whole family thinks she's dating Echo. The idea is funny but also irked her because that was far from the truth. Calmly explains to Damian that isn't the case and that she was simply Jeremiah's bodyguard. Damian can't wait to tell Tim that he was wrong.

Once they get back to the manor y/n teaches Damian about fencing. First going over the rules and the 4 types of fencing before doing anything physical. Surprisingly time flew by. They probably would have been fencing all night if Alfred didn't interrupt them for dinner. y/n planned on leaving, but Damian convinced her to at least stay for dinner because Alfred made her favorite dish and dessert.

This is around the time y/n starts to think that Damian isn't too bad. Out of everyone in the family, Damian is probably the one she'd be the most lenient towards. She's lenient towards the whole family, but Damian is still relatively young. He was able to move on from his horrible childhood, even though that resulted in him lashing out, y/n can forgive that to an extent. Deep down she sees him as her little brother even after their rough patch.

The fact that he isn't breaking into her apartment and trying to connect with her, makes her think that it's safe to be around him. That she isn't going to be verbally reminded that she's one of the most worthless human beings to be alive.

She starts straying a little longer at the manor to mentor Damian a few times. He starts to worry when she easily has the wind knocked out of her and has a cough that doesn't go away. She tells him that it's nothing to worry about. Might lie to him if doesn't give up on the topic by saying she's developed asthma. The lie isn't implausible since anyone can develops asthma at any age and it is hereditary.

It calms Damian down a little. Now he constantly carries an inhaler just in case y/n needs it. She feels so bad lying to him, but she thinks it's for the best that everyone should stay in the dark about her medical condition.

Seeing y/n willingly hang out with Damian gets under Tim's skin. He's given her space unlike Damian, except for that one time but it was only one time. The little gremlin has been harassing her since that one "outburst". He'd want to pull out the 'I knew her longer' card, but he knows how petty it would be. Who she hangs out with isn't his problem and he should mind his own business.

He does mind his own business, but he may occasionally check the cameras to see what y/n and Damian are up to. That's all he swears. Oh, my god, they're going to orchestral concerts and museums together now!? This is so unfair Tim thinks to himself.

They use to be so close.

Honestly, Bruce is thankful for Damian. He's keeping y/n around the manor longer so she can be completely safe from the madness of Gotham. It's also good to know that she's willingly interacting with one of her brothers. It almost warms his heart to see her not be so anxious while in the manor. Just almost because she shouldn't have to feel anxious in the first place. This was the place she once called home, it should make her feel safe not anxious.

Remember the team of toxicologists?

If you don't that's fine. They were killed by the bomb placed in the laboratory, so it's not like they'd be brought up again.

Everyone thinks it's Jerome. The loss of innocent life and y/n suddenly going missing seems like a Jerome thing to do. When they hunt down Jerome, he just kinda shrugs his shoulders while doing a poor job at hiding his smile. Damian wants to scratch his face off or rip his face off depending on the state of it. Dick has to hold back the little monster while Bruce interrogates the ginger.

It goes nowhere until Jerome gets bored of interrogation and tells them, "I'm tired of him thinking that he's better than me. We're quite the same, but I'm the better one. I just had to give him a fresh air of courage to be his true self." Everyone understands what he's say and also groaning that they have to deal with another fucking Valeska.

BONUS

Jerome, Jeremiah, Joker, and Harley being a sort of dysfunctional family is a fun idea. (Inspired by this) Joker and Harley enable the twins' unhealthy love for y/n Wayne.

Harley is more "innocent" in her enabling because she sees nothing wrong with it. The staking, the murder, it's nothing when it's the name of love. (When she leaves Joker for Ivy, she might feel guilty for egging them on. That she played a part in instating y/n into a toxic relationship. Out of anyone, she'd be the one to understand what's it like to be in one. This might motivate her to help keep y/n safe in the future.) Out of the two Harley is rooting for Jerome. He just seems like the lesser evil for y/n.

Joker finds the whole thing funny and pathetic at the same time. The twins are destroying half of the city for a girl, it almost makes him want to roll his eyes. Almost because of the lengths they'll go to. How they're always butting heads and seeing how distraught the girl gets is fun. He can't help but laugh at it. He'll be putting his money on Jeremiah because he sees potential. He's not reckless like Jerome or impatient, Jeremiah is in it for the long haul.

[ratsandclocks]

Sharing (part 1)

(Male Reader/Rodolfo Parra/Valeria Garza/Alejandro Vargas/Phillip Graves)

📝3,508 words(oops) | 18+ | Smut

Alejandro and Graves cannot seem to get along when it comes to having you. Valeria and Rudy hate seeing you upset. They stir up a plan where everyone is happy at the end of the night.

Tags: polyamorous, F/M/M/M/M, Sub/Dom dynamics, pillow prince reader, punishment, restraints, forced proximity, voyeurism, oral(m & f receiving), anal fingering, self imposed edging, overstimulation, subspace(?), no use of y/n, use of petnames; Babe, Baby, Babyboy, Cielito, Cariño, Corazoncito

Dom Valeria, Dom Rudy, Switch Alejandro, Switch Graves, Sub Male Reader.

Note: This took a bit longer to write since you can see, the fic itself got longer than I first anticipated. I tried my best to give everyone some attention but its hard when there's five fucking people. Might finish tomorrow or the day after depending how busy I get but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyways this has gotten out of hand... and into the other cuz im jerking off—

Disclaimer: Author does not speak Spanish(fluently) and only used Google for minimum research. If any of the Spanish words used seem off, grammatically incorrect, and/or inappropriate, please inform me and I'll try to fix them.

A petty argument. One that's been going on for about a week between Alejandro and Graves. That's what got you all in this position.

You don't even remember what it was they were fighting about—could be that food you left on the fridge for them that they decidedly did not want to share with each other, could be Philip's now-empty bottle of aftershave that you like the smell of so much, could be that time you wore his shirt to sleep instead of Alejandro's—who cares what the fight was, all you know is that there's heat between them when it comes to you and you did not like that…

Now Rudy didn't like seeing you in distress, neither did Valeria. So naturally, they'd do something about that. And sure enough, they did.

"You're fucking with me." Graves says, as a matter of factly as he watched Rudy handcuff his right hand with Alejandro's left to his pure dismay. Their other hands weren't free either, as they were as tightly tied to their respective sides of the sofa, leaving them immobilized and stuck close to each other. Looking at them together feels like watching two dogs wary of each other, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation—you were simply glad that they cannot do anything about it, but you do pity their place. Their seat was facing the bed, right where you sat with Valeria comfortably kneeling beside you, the two of you not wearing more than your shirt and underwear.

"I'm not." Rudy responded firmly, arms crossed as he glared at the two. "You don't get to touch mi Cielito or yourselves. Not until you start getting along."

"Rudy…" you plead in their defense, but the man only looked at you softly, denied you with a shake of his head, then walked closer towards the bed.

"Don't feel too bad about them now, Cariño." Valeria cooed to you, absently stroking your hair. Her eyes were on the two tied up men while she spoke, directing her words to them just as much. "They weren't being nice, were they?"

"I'm not being nice?" Alejandro finally spoke, pointing his left hand to himself accusingly, only for Graves to pull away the same handcuffed arm. "Look at him!" Alejandro defended himself.

"You've upset our boy, Gilipollas." Rudy lectured, eyes still on yours. You would've said something—another plea or something along the lines of 'you don't have to do this' or 'it's not a big deal'—but Rudy was sitting with you now, hands on your chin to face him and stare at his longing eyes, and that look effectively shut you up. "He deserves way better from you both."

You gasped in surprise when Valeria gripped your hair to pull your head back, her lips suddenly latched onto your neck, already finding the sensitive spot just under your ear. "That he does."

Hands were all over you in a matter of seconds. Valeria's were groping and undressing you, not rushing but surely more forceful than Rudy's. He was way gentler compared to her, softly caressing every inch of your skin she exposes as he kissed your mouth, slowly but just as passionately as Valeria's. All of it familiar, all of it just right.

Heat rushes up your skin. It was already making you lightheaded, their contrast nearly giving you whiplash, but you love seeing their differences, making up for what each other lacked. How they mix so well just to please you, all of them and more just for you—something you wish Alejandro and Phillip could do together.

"You were the one who stole my shit." You heard Graves grumbling. When you looked at him, your eyes met and caught him in a scowl, but his frustrations were clearly directed towards the man beside him.

"It's a shared bathroom, Pendejo." Alejandro quipped, to which he earned a tug on the cuffs from the other man. He tugged back and now they look like little brats fighting over a piece of candy. You couldn't help but frown at the sight, which Rudy quite immediately notices.

"Ey!" He yelled at them and the two men froze in an instant. "You keep fighting like that and you won't get to touch him at all."

"It's not fair, Rudy." Alejandro whined, easily switching from hostility to something more submissive, something he does that usually riles up Rudy. Not tonight though.

"And you're not being fair to him either. Just look—" at that, Alejandro finally looked at you. Your brows furrowed and eyes slightly teary, and clearly not for the reason of being in the debauched position Valeria's hands put you in. Oh how that just breaks his heart, seeing his poor corazoncito longing for him, so close yet so far. How hurt you must be from all his stubbornness.

"You think he wants you two away? That he doesn't want you here with him right now? Think he doesn't want to feel you inside him? You two are the ones depriving our lover of yourselves. Think about that."

"Do you want them, Cariño?" Valeria lewdly whispered to your ears, but loud enough that the other men could hear it. You only nodded, unable to form words while she trails her hands into your boxers, rubbing and stroking you under the garment. "Want their cocks inside of you? Touch every inch of your skin? Fuck you 'til you can't walk like you deserve it?"

"Mhm…" you moaned when her hand gripped your cock, your hips involuntary fucking into her hand.

"Then they gotta be good, right? Else they don't deserve you. Bad boys don't get to touch my sweet sweet boy."

She's pulled you out now and your cock was on full display for them all, hard and dripping as she stroked it. Rudy took off your boxers, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room to be picked up later in the next morning. When Valeria let go of you, Rudy took over quickly, teasing his thumb on your slit and you arched your back, promptly falling onto the bed with a whine. You were panting when he let the teasing off, but he didn't stop stroking you in slow firm tugs. Valeria chuckled fondly at the sight as she's taking off her panties, giving you and the rest of the men a show.

"Look at him, Rudy," she says, seductively crawling back towards you, "so sweet and sensitive. Such a shame they won't get a taste."

"Val…" you whined, reaching for her. She's cradling your face now, making you look straight into her eyes.

"You need something, Cariño?" It was almost condescending how she said it, but god if it weren't making you desperately buck into Rudy's hand you would've complained.

"Need you… up here—" she kissed you then—mouth on yours, full of hunger, moans and grunts, teeth and tongue, completely overpowering you—before pulling away and crawling farther. She moved to hover just above your head, legs on either side as she reposition herself with her cunt just above your face. Another whine escaped you when her hands went back to your hair, pressing you into the bed.

"Show me then," she ordered, "show me how much you need me. Show them what they're missing out on."

Your hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her down and ravaging her like she's the last meal of your life. You lap your tongue at her, burying your face deeper and pushing in your tongue farther. Nose nuzzling to her clit so perfectly that she twitches above you. She was clearly amused, letting out an exaggerated moan to egg on the tied up men.

"So good for me, Cariño. There, there, just like that—dios mio, that tongue! So good. Keep going, baby. They don't deserve you like this."

"Fuck's sake." Graves grunted. Valeria knows just how much he loves your mouth, because you know how to use it. He loves it when you kiss him and try to win him over, giving a good fight only to let him take charge in the end. He loves when you nip and bite on his skin, not too hard to hurt but just soft enough to make him feel like heaven. He loves when you suck on his cock desperately like it's your life on the line, loves how you use that tongue oh so sweetly around him. He loves everything about that mouth of yours, and now Valeria's using it against him.

You thrust your hips when you felt Rudy's tongue circling on your tip. He lifted one of your legs up with his free hand, squeezing lube on your balls to drip onto your ass, and proceeding to tease a finger into your hole. It wasn't much trouble prepping you—with how much you get fucked all the time, surely it won't be—but he still takes his time with it, pushing in slowly, always in search of something, making sure you feel good all throughout. He fucked you earnestly with those fingers, twitching when he found that spot that melts your bones and he instantly stopped with his movements, only to start profusely rubbing that spot and make you whine shamelessly.

And you heard Alejandro let out a strangled groan, now fully aware of Rudy's intentions to tease him.

"So cruel, mi rey." He groaned at the sight, he can see so clearly when Rudy's putting you on display like that. He always loved your ass—loved the involuntary movements you make and sounds you let out when it was him playing with you, making you feel good, when you squeeze around his cock plunged deep into you. God, does he wish it was him in Rudy's place, and Rudy knows that really well, so he's making it a show. Rudy pulled his mouth away.

"Keep watching." Rudy spoke before shoving your cock straight down his throat without a warning.

You moaned into Valeria's cunt, sending shivers down her spine and she chuckled. Now fully sat on your face, she grinds her hips on you, vigorously chasing her high until she stiffens above you, letting out a long moan and sigh in relief as she came on your face. She gave a few more thrusts into your tongue before getting off to the side, lifting you to lay your body between her thighs.

"Would you look at that, Babe." She addressed Graves who is now looking at you with a certain thirst in his gaze. Your face glistening in Val's wetness, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pleasure as Rudy kept bobbing his head, working you up. Valeria's hands traveled to your chest, pinching your nipples and making your back arch. "You wanna come, cariño?" She asked and Rudy sucked on the tip of your cock his fingers fucking into you faster to get you off quicker. But you mewled in response, head shaking as you held tightly on her arms and he immediately slowed his movements down.

"No?" Rudy asks, a heated look on his face. "What do you want then? Wanna get fucked in the ass, mi Cielito? Need a cock to come on to?"

You didn't need to say anything more, you nodded and Rudy carefully let you go. Your chest was heaving and you felt weak, too deep into the headspace Valeria had put you in and the pleasure you were just swimming in. You couldn't move on your own and so the two of them worked together to reposition you.

Now you're facing the men on their seats, your chest pressing on the bed with your ass up in the air. The men in front of you were looking at you with a certain darkness in their eyes, they seem painfully hard under their tight pants, their chests rising visibly with their heavy breathing. Graves couldn't stay still in his seat, constantly moving as if it'll do anything to ease the tightness in his pants—it doesn't.

"Phillip…" you whined, eyes staring at him with haze, god you were so pretty. The man could only groan in response.

"You alright, Baby?" Graves asked, because as much as he wants to take care of you, it's all he could do.

Rudy's hand was on you again, splayed out on the bottom of your spine while the other held his cock, teasing your hole just before slowly prodding in. He was big, you knew that—you're used to it, in fact—but it never fails to make you keen, feeling the stretch no matter how much grueling prep he gives you. You bit your lip as you tried to relax, sighing when you finally felt him bottom out.

"You were asked a question, Cielito." Rudy reminded you, hand reaching to stroke your hair as if to help you ground yourself. You leaned into the touch as you moaned, letting out an affirmative 'Mhm' to answer.

"I'm good…" you sighed, plopping yourself back into the bed, your hands reached to clench the sheets and prepare yourself. You grind your ass to feel Rudy's cock and it's all he needed before he started fucking you.

It was slow and sensual, dragging his thick cock to the tip before slowly pushing in again. You could almost feel every vein on him, every time his head almost caught on that sweet spot inside you but just barely missed—you knew he's doing it on purpose.

"So pretty, isn't he?" You heard Valeria. You don't remember when but she's now behind Alejandro and Graves, caressing Phillip's face with one hand while exploring Alejandro's body with the other. Graves had his head leaning against her while the other man was tense in his seat, trying—failing—to feign control of his desires.

"See what you're fighting for? Getting fucked raw without you?" Valeria said to Phillip, lightly biting his ear to tease before turning to Alejandro neck. "All because you don't know how to share."

You screamed when Rudy suddenly slammed into you, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Then he took pace, quickening without losing the strength in his thrusts. You were a moaning mess, broken noises leaving your mouth as air gets punched out of your lungs.

"Does it feel good?" Valeria asked and you barely registered that it was directed at you, all you could manage was a pathetic whimper as Rudy mercilessly pounded into you, "Words, Cariño."

"S'good… s-so—" you let out a yelp when Rudy finally hits that spot, deciding to keep abusing it and leaving you a thoughtless, sobbing, mewling mess under him—Under Valeria, and under all of their gazes. You were boneless on the bed, head in the clouds, you felt like you'd float through the ceiling any second, and you were thankful for the moment Rudy put his weight on your back, engulfing you with warmth as perched his hands on the side of your head.

Your gaze wandered through the room, processing anything was a struggle with your mind being full of haze, but you could see Graves struggling through his breathing and the bulge in his uncomfortably tight jeans. He bit his lips as your eyes met and you could only imagine the torture he was in right now. You were like a caged man observing a hungry shark in the ocean—you can see the urge it had to pounce, to destroy the barrier between you, and devour you til you're nothing but bones. But he can't have his way, can't even touch himself, can't give himself any relief. All he could do was simply watch you in your position, so enticing, so good for them all.

It was when he broke the connection between you that you noticed Alejandro had his hand on Graves' thighs, slowly rubbing up on him with a proud smirk on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" He asked Alejandro, a little wary, but just as much curious of the man's intentions.

"Can't touch ourselves, but they didn't say anything about touching each other. Might as well give the boy a little show." Alejandro said, his hand traveling farther into Graves' inner thigh. His breath hitched, swallowing a lump in his throat at the teasing touch. "Unless you'd rather you sit your ass there wishing you could get off by just watching."

"No." Graves said firmly without missing a beat—much to your surprise. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and let out a sigh, "Keep… keep going…"

That proud smirk on Alejandro's face got impossibly more smug and he did not hesitate to move his hand straight to Graves' bulge, pressing and rubbing on it with enough pressure to make the man keen and relax on his seat. Alejandro was quick to decide to unbutton Phillip's jeans, shoving his hand in and pulling his cock out. It was painfully red, dripping and desperate, and by God did you want it in your mouth right now.

You would've begged Rudy to let you suck off the man, but Alejandro is quicker than you could think. He was already leaning down—as uncomfortable the restraints make it—and licking the precum before it could drip down his shaft, then bobbing his head while his hand pumped the man's shaft. Phillip let out a sigh, finally opening his eyes to find Valeria beside him, looking down at him with amusement.

"What?" Graves panted, eyes heavy as he tried to read Valeria's look.

"Nothing," she feigned, leaning down closer to the man, then pulling his head back til his neck was exposed enough to the woman's desire, watching the man's throat bob as he swallowed, "you just look so cute getting along."

She kissed him with vigor, the other hand cradling his neck and their mouth fought for dominance with Valeria at an advantage. Her hand traveled to his chest, squeezing it once before traveling farther down his stomach, tracing every muscle until she reached Alejandro's head. She pulled him off and you can see his stubble glistening from his own spit, she quickly moved into kissing him now, freeing her other hand to reach for Graves' cock, covering Alejandro's bigger hand and pumping it together.

As much as you wanted to keep watching, you couldn't look anymore with how much Rudy was trying to keep your attention on his cock, it was a task to even keep your eyes open. Desperately needing to ground yourself, you reach for Rudy's hand, which he decided to interlock with yours. You gripped it like a lifeline, feeling that heat in your stomach starting to overfill and you were tightening around Rudy.

"Oh? You close, Cielito?" Rudy panted next to your ear, "Are you gonna come? Go ahead, you can do it. Come on my cock."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your cock twitched and soon enough, you came hard, face buried into the mattress muffling your otherwise loud moan, shuddering from the pleasure that shot through your spine.

Rudy fucked you through your orgasm, riding it out with you until the sensation starts edging into overwhelming pleasure. He was still pounding into you, quicker and harder, chasing his own end.

"So close, mi Cielito. Just a little more, I know you can take more. Take it."

Your legs are near to giving up, thighs shook from the exertion, but you stayed still, stayed good for him and let him use you all he wants. You were rewarded with a tight embrace, and the warm feeling of his cum painting your walls. He finally slowed down, hips stuttering as he slowly pulled out. Your legs finally gave out and you went limp on the soft mattress, Rudy followed with you to keep embracing you from behind, giving your back little pecks of kisses and nuzzling on your shoulder.

"Muy bien, mi Cielito. You did so good for me." You felt his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you just under your ear, caressing your hips and just showering you with all the love he could give. You'd love to stay like that for eternity, engulfed in his affection, you could never get used to it. Unfortunately, it had to end sooner than you wished. He pulled away, leaving your behind exposed to the cold air, but not for long as you felt strong arms flip you to lay on your back.

You find all of them above you, even Alejandro and Graves now free from their restraints on the seat.

"Still with us, Cariño?" Asked Valeria and you smiled, letting out a sigh that's more of a stuttered laugh. You couldn't help the heat crawling back up your skin seeing them all looking down at you, you swallowed a lump in your throat before answering.

"Never left." You spoke, part smugness, part teasing. They all smiled, fully understanding what you meant by those words alone—more.

"Good." Alejandro growls, and your stomach drops at the feral look he gives you, his smile widening, tongue going over his teeth like watching food served to him on a silver platter.

"Because two of us just learned how to share."

(To be continued…)

[insomniactic-daydream]

Breaking Point- Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Part 6)

<- Previous (Part 5)

Summary: ANGST. Bakugo and Y/n get into fight, and Shoto and Y/n have a forgiveful talk.

This is more written from Shoto's perspective.

*Little Heartstopper reference*

Shoto can't remember when Y/n and Bakugo became Y/n & Bakugo. But Bakugo was there when his selfishly enraged self couldn't. So, in Shoto's book, Bakugo was alright.

The first time he saw Bakugo and Y/n interact was when the blonde scolded her for throwing the 1st challenge race at the sports festival.

Even after she made a big impression with her gear, she stopped right before the finish line. Making an even bigger impression on support companies for letting others have their moment.

Shoto never really looked to see who she'd talked to, afterall he wasn't on good terms with his twin, so he knew not to dwell into her life. So he was a bit puzzled seeing you together. You looked so relaxed, so free.

Both born from the same star, yet he thought you shined so much brighter. Instead of obeying the path Endeavor wanted, you made your own. While he took the road of driven resentment. Only recently did he start to feel bad for getting upset at you using your quirk and loving dad.

The more Shoto saw you and Bakugo, whether in the halls, at lunch, or chatting in the support classroom, the more envious he felt. He wanted to talk to you like that too, but you always seemed a shoulder's length away.

It wasn't until Bakugo got kidnapped where Shoto really saw you for the first time. Your hair turned red with anger, pushing Shoto to tell you what the hell happened at camp. For the first time, he felt scared you were going to break.

You ended up coming along to the rescue mission. Despite the group's protest, a quick threat to burn them alive shut them up enough to convince them you'll keep up. No wonder you're Bakugo's closest friend.

That day, you guys genuinely got closer; you even shared a laugh as you ridiculed his disguise. In the end, he was kinda glad Bakugo got kidnapped cause at least he had a minute with you. He was even more glad to see you around the dorms after the move. But then again, it was always for Bakugo, but you'd occasionally walk up to talk to him.

Then the license exams came, which he and Bakugo failed. The same day, you showed up to the dorms scouring for the news, which ultimately ended in a fight between Bakugo and you. Wounds were definitely opened for both of you.

"You don't get it, Y/n! You wasted your potential the second you decided you wanted to be tech support! Dont give me pity for shit you can't begin to understand!" Bakugo screams but then freezes as if he knew the words he spilled weren't true; not for him and certainly not to you.

But it was too late; lines were crossed.

"Well, luckily, I don't need your reassurance. I know what I'm doing is not wasted.

Remember, I'm the one that spilled my sweat, brains, and time just so you can go play hero.

News flash, heroes that seek for glory almost inevitably end up mistreating the ones around them, most definitely civilians. That's why you failed. No one to blame but your selfish ego, Katsuki.

You want to be a showboat hero? Fine. But don't EVER disrespect the people who helped you along the way." Y/n spat back, making sure she dug the knife as deep as he did.

And like that, he was gone. He stomps echoing the hallway, leaving you in the common room with your brother.

"Y/n?" Shoto asked a little concerned after witnessing the whole thing. Luckily, most of his classmates were off to bed from exhaustion and didn't witness the fight.

If they did hear it, they sure as hell won't ask; Bakugo is very sensitive at the moment.

"I'm alright, Shoto. Did you pass your exams?" You ask dull tone face, now wearing the same stoic face you use at home.

"No."

"Oh. Are you okay?" You asked with your concerned attention turned to him instead of the situation with the blonde. Selfless even when you're hurting, too.

"Not entirely, but no worries. I'll manage." He said in a defeated tone. He wondered if you would've excelled far better than him. He sure you would've been more selfless than the way he acted.

"Y/n, I'd like to apologize." He blurts out almost desperate to get off his chest. Your eyes widen in surprise of his outburst. You struggle to get words out.

"You didn't deserve how I treated you when we were younger. I'm sorry for my actions, I was in a place of anger and resentment, not even towards you, but I'm actively trying to get out of it." He says, bowing his head down.

"Shoto, it's okay I-"

"No, it's not. You're too kind. To Fuyumi, Natsuo, Me, and even Bakugo just now. We've all wronged you, and yet you don't push us away. You have every right to be angry. So please be angry for once." He says, almost raising his voice. Only when looking up at you does he stop.

Your hair is now white tufts popping out against the black, icicles forming around your eyes and in your hair. He's only seen this once, and it when you begged dad not to be a hero. You looked so much like Touya then.

"I can't." You say almost in a sob.

"I can never be angry at any of you. I defend myself, sure, but it always ends up making me feel worse about the situation.

I love you guys, so much. But I know that who I am, the version of myself I'm most content with... just doesn't fit into the picture." You say with tears streaming down your face. Almost falling down to your knees if it weren't for him running to hold you up.

"I'm sorry we've made you feel like you can't be yourself. I've seen the way you act around Bakugo when you think others aren't looking.

Or how lucky your friends are to see you laughing, almost seeing your hair turn to your red from how comfortable you are. I want that for you.

Please, be yourself when you're with me. And I'll make sure others don't treat you any differently. I'm sure the others feel the same, though." He says, pouring out his observations of you at school.

"You think so?" you sniffle, the strong appearance you've held on to for so long finally broke open, revealing the same little girl that just wanted her family to love her.

"You can send us all to the earth's core your quirk if I'm wrong." He says. You let out a weak but genuine laugh.

"Pft, that's funny. I didn't know you could joke like that Shoto"

"What joke?"

(Part 7) -> (Not up yet silly :3)

😀 Hi...

So I did a thing... sorry bout that.

In my defense, this had to happen. I'm trying not to make this too long of a story. (For mostly my attention span)

Don't worry, they'll make up, this is a love story. 💜

Tag List 💜: @queenriki7 @bumblebeebutter @mochimommy2002 @s3mis3m1 @your-mum3000 @juniper-july19 @finalgirlflunkie @sara4uuu @michiviv @romantasynerd05 @attackonnat @chirokookie @captainshindo @bodieohbo @junehasnotbeenfound @njyhjtjb

Want to join the Tag List? -> Click Here!

(Yall look at this Tag List 🥹 Ty yall for supporting the story!🫶💜)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi, idk if you write this kind of thing but would you mind writing something with either carmy berzatto or frank castle and a recovering addict! gf?

she relapses and he's angry but he loves her so he's gentle. he doesn't know what to do.

i’m not doing so well atm and i’m really struggling to stay clean, your writing and just fics in general really help take me out of my own head.

There's Always Tomorrow.

Frank knows you better than you know yourself. It's a blessing and a curse.

Author's Note - hi sweet anon. i'm sorry to hear you're not doing so well at the moment. i lost a good friend of mine to addiction, and i know how hard it can be. just know that you're never alone - there's always someone you can talk to. you're doing amazing, and I'm wishing you all the best. you've got this.

i got this request and knew i had to write it, as it's something very close to my heart. i've tried to handle it as sensitively as possible, without going into too much explicit detail. i've included some resources at the bottom of this post such as websites and hotlines if you feel like you need some support. so much love to anyone who's struggling. i see you, and i admire you. you're always stronger than you think x

Pairing - Frank Castle x Recovering Addict Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - addiction. mentions of relapse. talk of sobriety and being clean. cursing. please do not read if this will be triggering to you in any way.

Word Count - 1.7k

Masterlist. Requests.

Frank knows something is wrong the minute he walks through the door.

Usually, he yells honey, I'm home! and is greeted by you jumping into his arms, covering his face in kisses.

Today, you're nowhere to be found.

He's storming through your house, yelling your name at the top of his lungs. A thousand scenarios are running through his head, all of them horrifically tragic. He's terrified.

He gets to the closed bathroom door and yells your name again.

"Sweetheart, you in there?"

You don't reply, but he hears you sniffle.

"Shit, baby, are you cryin'? Open the door. Whatever it is, I'll fix it, okay?"

"You can't," you sob. "Not this time."

Frank has never heard you this upset, and he's starting to panic.

"Open the door, honey. Please. Just open the door and we'll work somethin' out."

"You don't want me to," you cry. "You're going to hate me."

"Hate you? I could never hate you. I love you, you know that. Open the door. Please."

You sniffle again, but make no attempt to move.

"Alright. I'm about to break it down. Move back, so I can kick it in."

"Don't you dare," you threaten. "This door was expensive."

"Then open it."

You're not sure if it's his words, or the way he sounds exhausted, but you decide to give him some respite. You stand up and turn the lock, before slumping back down into your spot on the floor.

Frank takes a good look at you, and his heart shatters.

Your cheeks are tracked with mascara stained tears. You're wearing nothing but a tank top and some underwear. Your hair looks like you've been running your fingers through it repeatedly. Your lips are bitten and raw. You look tired.

"Baby," he whispers. "What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lie.

"You're not fine. You're clearly not fuckin' fine. We don't lie to each other, do we?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your chin to look at him where he's standing.

"Do we?"

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. "We don't lie to each other."

"That's right," he says, moving to kneel in front of you. "Now please, honey. What happened?"

Silence. More sniffles.

"If I tell you, you're going to hate me. You're going to leave me and you're going to hate me."

"I don't think there's anythin' in the world that could make me hate you," he reassures.

Frank looks at you intently, proving you have his full attention. He cups your cheek gently, and waits for you to tell him the truth. Eventually, you speak.

"I relapsed," you whisper.

Frank's whole body goes rigid, and he freezes. He's still looking at you, but it's different now.

"Frank," you say gently. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

Your blood runs cold. He sounds... distant. Detached. He sounds angry.

"Please don't hate me. I told you you'd hate me. God, I knew this would happen."

There are fresh, warm tears streaming down your face, dripping onto your shirt. Frank still remains stoic, removing his hand from your cheek.

"I don't hate you," he says eventually. "But I need you to give me a minute."

With that, he rises to his feet and leaves. You're left on the bathroom floor, sobbing and alone.

 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

Frank sits on the edge of your bed, trying his best to take deep breaths.

Your addiction isn't a secret. You've talked about it time and time again, telling Frank all of the details that you swore to yourself you'd never tell anyone. You met him, and felt instantly safe. He's the perfect confidant - he listens, he understands. He's compassionate, he's gentle, he's empathetic. You've opened up again and again, and Frank has never judged you once. It's one of the reasons you fell so hard for him.

You've been clean since you met him. A naive part of him hoped that he'd never have to see you otherwise. He knows that sobriety is a journey, he knows that it isn't linear. But he hasn't been through it. There's only so much he really understands. He tries, though. God, he tries.

He's sitting in your shared bedroom, wondering why he left you in the bathroom by yourself. Is it because he can't bear to see you upset? Is it because he can't handle it like he thought he could?

He realises, suddenly, that it's because he simply doesn't know what to do. He's never been in this situation before, and he doesn't know which course of action to take. Does he sit and cry with you? Does he yell at you to never do it again? Does he tell you he still loves you, no matter what? He decides, unsure, to try a mix of all three.

Frank strides back into the bathroom and sees you still in the spot he left you. You're still crying, and it lodges a lump in his throat. He fights back his own tears, and sits down next to you, pulling you into his arms.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. We're okay. It's all okay."

"It's not okay, Frank," you sob. "I'm so mad."

"At me? I'm sorry, honey. I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I just panicked and -"

"No, no. At myself."

Frank soothingly strokes your hair, rocking you gently. You relax into his hold, tears subsiding slightly.

"I've worked so hard on being clean. It's a choice, every single day. Why did I choose wrong today? I've ruined everything. I've fucked up all of my hard work, all of my progress."

"You know," he begins. "There's no end goal here. It's a constant journey. And on any journey, there's gonna be ups and downs."

You try to protest, but he cuts you off.

"One bad day doesn't determine the rest of the week. Or the rest of the month. Or the year. Okay?"

You nod your head, and he kisses your temple.

"There's always tomorrow, baby. There's always tomorrow. We can start again. Today doesn't undo everything. It just changes your course a little."

"Frank Castle. A poet. Who knew?" you tease. He laughs, and the vibrations buzz through you both.

"Only for you, honey."

You both sit on the floor for what feels like hours, content to just hold each other. Frank is wondering what caused the events of the day, what made you feel like you had no other option, where you even got a hold of everything. But he doesn't ask. He knows you'll talk about it tomorrow. Instead, he wraps his arms around you tighter, and tries to match his racing heart to the beat of yours.

"Promise me that if you feel like this again, you'll tell me. I don't care where I am, or what I'm doin'. We're in this together."

"I promise," you whisper.

"There's always tomorrow, honey," he murmurs into your hair.

"There's always tomorrow," you echo.

He's right. There's always tomorrow.

Al-Anon / Ala-Teen Hotline - 800-356-9996

SAMHSA Hotline - 1-800-662-4357

DrugFree Hotline - 855-378-4373

Alcoholics Anonymous (UK) - +44-800-9177-650

DAN 24/7 (England&Wales) - +44-808-8082-234

Narcotics Anonymous (UK) - +44-300-999-1212

MIND Website (lots of useful UK resources here)

SAMHSA Website (USA)

these are just a select few. there are hundreds, if not thousands, of websites, hotlines and places to turn for support if you're struggling. asking for help might be the hardest thing you'll ever do. but it's so worth it. promise x

[baratiddyappreciator]

Giving the Baki Cast Massages

I read a fic and was hit by the inspiration beam, we are making men moan today folks! All SFW, but I could be convinced to make NSFW versions too.

Baki:

When you tell him you're going to give him a back massage, he's initially confused, because why would he need one of those? He's feeling perfectly fine. But he'll still humor you and lay down.

It's not until your hands start working on him that he realises that oh, he needed this, actually. Like, he really needed this. He's needed this for a long time. He's all tense and full of knots, though not as bad as some others would be. It takes you getting the first knot out of his back for him to start making noises.

At first he's really quiet with his noises, they're subtle, not immediately noticed, but they're there. Little groans and grunts, but once you hit the right spot, he lets out a full-blown moan. It will surprise the both of you, because it comes out of nowhere, but keep going, he's not done yet.

By the time you get half of his back done, he's gone completely limp and is just groaning and letting you do whatever you want to him as long as it keeps this feeling going.

Kozue:

Shoulder, back and hand massages are a godsend for her, she needs the relief, because while her posture is good, it's not the best at times. She's all for it, because she'd feel bad if she asked for it herself. Just walk up and start massaging her and it's like you hit her off button.

There's a few knots and stiff spots, but not a lot of them, she does take good care of herself, so you won't really have to dig in to get at the sore spots, they're in pretty shallow.

She is vocal. Whining, humming, groaning, she'll lean back into your hands while you work on her, and it's very obvious that she's just in pure bliss. If you stop before she's ready for you to stop, she'll give you the most bone chilling glare and demand you keep going.

Be the time you're allowed to stop, she's passed out on whatever surface you started massaging her on, and very deeply passed out at that, you'll have to carry her to bed so she doesn't get a back ache.

Hanayama:

It takes a shockingly short amount of time to convince him to let you give you a massage. You just have to ask and he's surprisingly open to the idea. Back and shoulder massages to this man some wonders, but if you can manage to get at his hands, he's surprisingly sensitive.

A lot of stiff muscles and knots, and you do need to dig to get a few of them out, but by far the worst for all the tension is his upper back and shoulders. His lower back doesn't have any issues, actually, he knows to take care of that, but it's the upper back he can't really do anything about, tension just naturally settles there.

Not very vocal at all, but once you get the first knot out and soothe a little bit of tension he'll visibly start relaxing. He's got a naturally upset expression on his face, but even that starts to ease up a little bit.

Be sure to get comfortable, or else you're going to wind up having to wake him, because this man will fall asleep. Use it as a chance to properly get all the stress out of him and take care of him, he deserves it.

Katsumi:

He's all about self care, he knows how important it is. Truth be told he has a masseuse of his own, but he won't turn down one from his beloved friend and partner. His lower back tends to give him the most issues, so if you can get at that, you're in for a treat.

Mostly just stiff muscles, but there are a few little knots here and there. He doesn't expect you to dig to get them all out, but if you do, that's entirely up to you. He just appreciates that your hands are warm and soft on his skin.

Vocal and shameless, he'll hum and moan the entire time. Don't worry, it's just for you, he tones it way down when he goes in to his actual masseuse, he's fairly sure that they'd kick him out if he made some of the noises he does with you there.

Probably won't fall asleep, but he absolutely will relax. And once you're done, he will, be returning the favour. You helped him relax, so he'll do the same for you!

Jack:

It takes actual months of begging to get this man to let you give him a massage. He doesn't see himself as worth the effort of massaging the tension out of his muscles, because he knows that he'll need a lot of work put in to get anywhere close to a relaxed level, but when you do finally manage to convince him, it's a matter of getting him to sit fucking still.

This man is the stiffest out of everyone on this damn list. Knots, stiff muscles, it's like trying to make a rock relax. It'll take hours to get even half of his back done, and you've really gotta dig to get the knots out. You're going to have to do this repeatedly to properly get him to relax, your arms will hurt.

Insanely vocal. He'll wiggle and writhe before you start, but the second you start massaging his shoulders or the back of his neck, he's outright moaning and groaning. Is he embarrassed? He would be if he was capable of coherent thought right now. Even rubbing his back lightly does miracles for him.

By the time you're finished, your arms are sore, your back hurts, and he's probably dead asleep. Don't tell him that you're sore, because he'll feel really bad and he'll never let you do that again because he doesn't want you hurting yourself.

Kosho:

Hand massages are big for him, he uses them a lot and sometimes he gets those deep cramps in his hands, but he's not opposed to a proper back or neck massage.

A few tense spots and knots, but not a lot, his brother taught him how to take care of himself, and he took that knowledge seriously, but there's still enough for you to work on.

He hums a lot. He's not afraid to direct you either. Dig in a bit harder under my shoulder, keep rubbing circles on my palms, stay shallow on my lower back. He knows what he wants and needs, and he's not afraid to tell you that.

He will be returning the favour when he thinks you need it, don't even try to stop him. By the time he's done, you're the one who's going to wind up falling asleep.

Kureha:

You want to massage him?! You? Really? He's almost as stubborn as Jack about this. Almost. A simple appeal to his ego is all it takes to get him laying down and letting you work on him. While you're at it, braid his hair and push it off to the side, because your hands will get tangled in it.

This man is in perfect condition, you think he doesn't have a masseuse? Wrong. He goes in and gets a full spa day. But he's not about to turn down the attention and admiration. Go for his hands and neck, he'll melt.

He's not above praising you when he thinks you're doing well, though he sighs a lot during the process, so he does sound incredibly annoyed, but you've really gotta look at him to see that he's very much enjoying himself.

Once you start you aren't going to finish, he'll have you go from one spot to another and then another until he's finally bored enough to let you go do other things. If you're going to spoil him, dedicate an entire day to it, otherwise he'll monopolize on your time.

Retsu:

He'll politely decline every time you offer, so don't offer and just do it. Walk up behind him and start massaging the back of his neck. He's not opposed to it, but he doesn't want to seem needy or rude by outright saying he'd like a massage.

Get after this man's neck and feet, his back is mostly fine, he's careful to not tax that too much, but his neck and feet tend to get ignored. He'll lean into you and he'll lean hard. He's not that bad, but you might have to dig to properly relieve the tension in his neck.

He lets out one moan, and then he's dead silent for the rest, because he knows if he opens his mouth to make even a single sound. He'll be bright red the entire time after that.

He's incredibly grateful after, expect him to be showing that appreciation in many different ways. You'll come home to find the house cleaned, the floor is so spotless that you'll be able to see your own damn reflection. Meal? Cooked. Bed? Made.

Doppo:

He's chill with everything, but he does tend to have a lot of tension in his shoulders. He'll gladly sit down and let you take care of him. Hell, he'll even tap out for a quick nap if you don't mind.

He's all for just letting you work on him, he loves the attention and the affection, and he absolutely will be playing up how bad his shoulders hurt just so you offer to give him a massage.

He's not afraid of letting you know how much he's enjoying it, lots of humming and groaning once you really hit that spot. You're going to have to dig in once you get to his spine though, those muscles are tough.

Have you seen that grip strength? He and Hanayama are some of the best at returning the favour, if only because they can really get in there and help sooth that tension. He'll make you feel brand new.

Natsue:

She appreciates it tremendously. Offer to give this woman a shoulder rub and she'll sit all pretty as she pleases while you work. There's not as much tension as the others, she doesn't stress nearly as much.

The most you'll have to do is dig when it comes to the base of her skull. That carries a lot of tension for her, and she greatly appreciates it being done.

Not super vocal, but she will smile and tell you how you're doing. Either way, she's super appreciative and loves that you offered to do this for her.

She's a professional at a hand massage. Seriously, if you think Kosho is good, that's because you haven't had your hand massaged by Natsue. She'll make you feel like your hands are back to being five years old, not a hint of stiffness in sight.

Shibukawa:

Oh please do rub his tired old man shoulders, he clearly needs it- Yeah no he's going to milk that for all it's worth. In all fairness, he could actually be sore. Could. He probably isn't, staying loose and limber is how he's avoided most major injuries.

Not much tension anywhere in this mans body. His back and shoulders are all calm and relaxed, most he'd accept is hand or neck massages, and even then there's not a lot of work to be done.

He's not afraid of messing with you. Did you use a little more force in one pass? Oh he'll act like he's been shot, stabbed and run over by a dump truck. Then he'll turn around and pat you on the thigh, tell you good job and to continue.

He's got that old man grip, so if he does return the favour, it's an oddly reassuring thing that makes you feel safe. He's not above pinching you when he thinks you're getting too relaxed though.

Tokugawa:

He doesn't need it, but he'll take it, he knows that a lot of people dote on him out of respect and concern, but he's a grown ass man, if he needs something, he'll go get it.

There's hecca tension in those tiny ass shoulders and his neck. All of his fighters make him worry since just about all of them are hell-bent on rushing head-first into a grave most of the time.

Lots of chuckling as you work, but he does appreciate it. Don't worry about hurting him, he's a lot sturdier than you think he is.

He won't return the favour himself, but when you finish up he'll hand you a voucher for a full spa experience and just sorta walk away. He's grateful, and he'll make sure that you get your chance to relax as well.

[mynameisjag]

The air was nice, a little crisp with the fall weather about to hit.

Usually Wade wouldn’t find himself enjoying the outdoors in a leisurely manner…and he wasn't, he fucking hated it at the moment.

“This sucks!”

Beside him, walking the path at slow pace was Laura, who just raised an eyebrow at him, copycat version of her dad's smirk on her face.

“You've walked longer through rougher terrain,” her eyes flicked to the two bodies ahead of them, her smirk growing into a wide grin, “wonder what you're really upset about.”

“Oh, you know, my secret hatred of birds is showing through-of course its not the walk and don’t you start.”

He wasn’t used to being out and about without his suit, and the giant sun hat he was sporting didn’t really help keep the sun off his more sensitive skin.

But he was doing this for Vanessa.

Vanessa’s boyfriend was…descent…and she wanted them all to get along, they all were close in one way or another and of course she would want the ones she cared about the most to be comfortable with one another.

So…bonding hike…

Which Logan, the feral fuck, actually seemed to be enjoying but that probably was less the family time and more that he was away from large groups of people.

There was a bet if the man was just going to go and take off at the first sight of a deer, which might work out in Wade’s favor if it scared ‘boyfriend’ off.

Listen, he is willing to give the guy a chance, he is a nice guy…but did he really have to click with Logan so fast?

“Pops doesn’t really care that much for him, you know that right? The guy is important to Vanessa, Vanessa is important to you and you are important to him.”

“Fucking, yeah, I know little Miss Voice of Reason, but look at them, walking and talking like friends.”

“The dude is talking, Pops is probably thinking about disappearing into the woods for a week before you hunt him down and bring him home.”

“Like it would take a week for me to find him, we’re connected Baby-wolvs,” he made a heart sign with both of his hands, “the power of saving the universe and Madonna will forever bond us.”

She just rolled her eyes, “Since your so connected, then why are you so jealous?”

“Jealous!? Me!?,” his hands fell dramatically to his sides as he threw his head back in distress, “Okay, I admit it, I’m jealous of the way those jeans make his ass-“

“-Do NOT finish that.”

“I’m still going to think it…hmm…thinking about it hard now.”, he preceded to make grabby hands at the other man’s backside, “going to make the mouse send me a cease and desist with the way my thoughts be going.”

“I hate you.”

Wade just grinned wide at her snarly face, sooo cute, just like her daddy! Speaking of the man, the two ahead of them had stopped and were waiting.

They weren’t too far behind, so it only took a few moments to catch up, Deadpool throwing his arms around the older man and going to swoon knowing he was going to be caught, “Oh, the sun, it makes me suffer, if only there was a strong burly man to slather me with lotion later!”

Laura sauntered up, pushing Wade off her father to cuddle his side, “Thanks for waiting.”

‘Boyfriend’ was helping the mercenary up, smiling and going on about nearly being close to the end of the trail.

Logan huffed and gave a quick side hug to his little girl, “Probably need to get there quick, I can smell rainfall heading our way.”

And then ‘Boyfriend’ was talking about how the weather was reported to be nothing but sunshine and Wade was rolling his eyes and adjusting his hat. He did not pack for rain and if Logan said rain was coming it was coming.

“There’s this lovely little picnic area ahead, we should bring a lunch with us next time! Say, do you any of you like sports, got a few work buddies that we watch the games with. We’d love to have the whole crew over. I can make a mean green bean casserole!”

Their phones went off, flash storms heading their way.

“Oh, thank the Marvel Jesus that is me, welp, looks like it’s time to head back!”, he was going to ignore the way the Wolverine duo were smirking at him as he enthusiastically turned around and started head back to the truck.

“Sorry, are trip is a bit of a bust, perhaps next time weather will be more predictable and Vanny can join us!”

“Sounds nice.”

“Sure.”

“I think jumping into a concrete mixer sounds better.”

And ‘the boyfriend’ was throwing an arm around Wade’s shoulders, “You really are such a funny guy, it’s so good to be able to bond like this!”

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Seven on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town.

CW: alcohol consumption, heavy petting but no sex

The place John chooses is understated and casual, for which you're relieved. You don't mind being wined and dined but you'd dressed comfortably, with only skating in mind, so you're glad he hasn't brought you to some fancy touristy place downtown. He holds doors open for you and walks around like a peacock when his hand settles low on your back. He asks for a booth and at this point, you're not even surprised when he tucks in next to you instead of opposite, his big thigh resting warm and sturdy against your own; his elbow placed firmly on the table in front of you so you have to lean against his tricep to read the one menu he's apparently decided you'll share.

It's… nice.

You ask to see the salad section when he settles on some sloppy pile of meats, caramelized veggies, and eggs. He pulls a face at that but obliges and you decide to believe that's not somehow weight related.

"This one looks good," John comments a little too-blandly, pointing at a trough consisting of ninety percent steak and maybe a handful of arugula.

"Are you anemic? Should I be worried?"

John laughs, his arm shaking slightly against your chest. "It's actually your iron levels I'm worried about."

Ah. That's… maybe a little weird, but cute.

"I'm fine, John. Don't have much of an appetite, to be honest."

John looks a little miffed by this but doesn't comment when you ask the waitress for a simple Caesar. He gets his meat monstrosity and asks for it bloody in a voice that could charm the skin of a snake. He knows what he's doing, too, based on the entirely too innocent smile he gives the waitress as he moves onto his drink order, a strawberry shake. You can't help but laugh a little at him.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sweet tooth considering how skinny you are," you confide, a teasing smirk on your face which is immediately wiped straight off when John gives you a hurt, borderline panicked look.

"You think I'm skinny!?"

"Uh… no, like -. I mean, in shape. Fit. Sorry, no, you're definitely not skinny. That was poorly worded." You're floundering, trying desperately to fix whatever it is you'd fucked up. It had never occurred to you that someone wouldn't want to be called skinny, though it makes sense now that someone who clearly put as much work into maintaining his body would never want to be called scrawny. Christ, you'd fucked up. That's twice now. Oh god, he's never going to want to see you again. "I'm so sorry, I only meant -."

But John's peering back at you suspiciously now and it has your hands wringing. "It's okay, honey," he says after a moment, clears his throat. "I uh… lost a lot of weight over the winter. Suppose I'm a little sensitive about it, is all."

You're still a nervous wreck, doubly afraid now that you've upset him. Fucking hell, man's probably got some health issues he's getting over and you had to go and comment on his fucking body. "I'm so, so sorry, I should've thought -."

"Sweetheart, look at me. You're fine. I'm not mad."

Holy shit, he's not. He's -.

Right. This is John.

"Besides, you're right," he continues brightly, beaming at the waitress when she places the shake in front of him. "I am a little twiggy. Let's see if we can't fix that, eh?"

You're still mortified that you even commented on his body. After all the bullshit you've put up with in your life, you know better than to pull this shit. You hadn't meant it negatively, of course, but you know from first hand experience how little that matters. John looks happy enough now, but you won't soon forget how hurt he'd looked after your comment. You're still mulling over the best way to move on when he offers you a sip off his pink treat, dopey smile in place. You can't say no to that and he somehow manages to look even more pleased when you take a sip from his straw.

"So… weight loss… did you have any health scares?"

"Hm?" He jolts, eyes focused entirely on your lips. "Oh, no. Strong as a bear," he winks - weird. "Just lose my appetite under the Arizona sun. Always spend all summer trying to gain the weight back," he laughs, a little sad. "Good excuse to indulge, though."

"Well, indulge away. I do think you look good, by the way. Bet you'll look even better when you're comfortable and confident."

John smiles and kisses your forehead with slightly sticky lips. "Thanks, bunny. I think you look very good too, by the way."

He says it the same way he'd appraised the menu. "Thank you," you mutter, grateful that the waitress chooses that moment to return so he doesn't notice how much you blush from his attentions. It's still odd to you, someone as absurdly handsome as John Price being this sweet on you.

John eats like someone's coming to steal it off his plate. He remembers himself maybe midway through his burger and offers you a bite, but when you shake your head he shrugs and goes back to scarfing it like a stray dog. It's kind of impressive, honestly. More out of curiosity than any genuine hunger, you slowly and obviously grab a French fry from his plate which prompts him to grin goofily around a mouthful and spin the plate so the fries are closer to you. You'd been worried for a moment there that he may have some kind of feeder kink, but the voracity with which he's shoveling food into his own mouth combined with how he picks a singular cherry tomato off your dish has you thinking food might be more of a love language to him. That's okay. Cute. You can handle that.

John doesn't throw in the towel until his plate is completely cleared and when you see him eyeing your half full bowl you laugh and slide it his way. He laughs too, and says he'll make you something at the bar later to make up for it. You're not sure you'll take him up on that, but you won't lie that the ease with which he guarantees your next meal means a lot to you, considering how often a spoonful of peanut butter counts as dinner for you these days.

The waitress asks if you want dessert and John eyes you hopefully.

"You go right ahead, big guy, but I'm out."

With a sigh, he admits he should probably go relieve Simon and the two of you pack up without any sweets.

You follow him to the bar and he guides your Jeep back past a little awning and behind the building. He opens your door for you once you put it in park and gives you a hand down. "You can park right here anytime you need, honey," he says and you can't deny that the privacy afforded by the two surrounding walls is pretty tempting.

John takes you in through the kitchen where you find the most intimidating man you've ever seen in your life. He's muscled like a bull and taller even than John. A shock of pale blond hair; scarred, furrowed brows over dark, blank eyes; a black surgical mask and a matching baby gap t-shirt pulled taut over biceps bigger than your head. Here is a man that could make even Phil flinch just by yawning a little too hard, surely, and when he greets John, his voice is low like an oncoming bulldozer and just as deadly.

"Where the fuck 'ave you been?"

John doesn't even flinch. "Got lunch."

The blond man turns his gaze upon you for exactly forty-three seconds. Technically, his expression is completely neutral, but you can't help feeling like he's brought a pumpkin gutter to your eye socket, taken your measure by literally weighing whatever he finds in there. (Metric, of course, for accuracy's sake.)

"'Hope you 'ad fun. I fuckin' quit."

"Sure, sure," John rolls his eyes. He nods toward the front of the shop, "How's he doing?"

"Can't speak English."

"You can barely speak English, you filthy manc. How'd he do with customers?"

"Gave out 'is number three times, if that's what you're looking for in a keep."

John shrugs, "If it keeps 'em coming back."

"Gaz would've never."

"No, Gaz would've gotten theirs. He good with the till?"

"'Ardly trusted him with it, did I?"

"Christ, Simon, did you train him on anything?"

"Too busy house breaking 'im."

John snorts. "How'd he do, honest?"

"Hmph," Simon grunts.

"Hmph?" John repeats, valley girl inflection.

"Mm."

John gives you a 'holy shit, you seeing this?' look. "That good?"

"Said what I said. This the bird?" Simon nods at you, but John is hardly deterred.

"Yes. Should I extend him a year round offer, then?"

The other man's turn to ignore John: "Hi, pet. Nice to meet you."

"You're Simon, I gather?" You grit down on your resolve and extend him a hand which he gracefully doesn't crush in his calloused palm. "I believe I have you to thank for a great coffee date?"

"That's right, so if you ever want to trade up, I know plenty of things -."

But whatever he knows, you never will because John chooses that moment to get adorably jealous. "Awrigh', 'nough of tha'." His accent is thick when his hand finds your shoulder and guides you through the swing door into the front area. You pop out behind the bar, where a roguishly handsome man with a short cropped mohawk and upsettingly blue eyes is already grinning at you, probably having heard every word from the kitchen.

Sure enough, you have enough time to hear Simon warn John he was going to regret that before the mohawked man is inching closer. "Hi, bonnie," he greets you in a thick Scottish accent and you don't even have a chance to respond before John is right there, crowding you just enough to put the Scot on his back foot.

"Soap," John greets the other man, and mohawk smiles warmly at his boss, devilish eyes glinting with easy charm and just a touch of mischief.

"Price. Who's the lass?"

"Your test subject tonight. Pretend she's just a regular customer who doesn't know what she wants -." John guides you around the end of the bar to the very last stool as he speaks. "What would you start her off with?"

"Tha's easy, bonnie lass like her. Sit tight, hen." Soap (Soap?) gets to work behind the bar as John ducks back into the kitchen area for a moment. Whatever Soap's making looks simple enough, maybe four ingredients, but he makes it into an art form, coating the glass with whatever sticky syrup he's using for flavor before pouring his mix in and adding garnish. John returns wielding a laptop just in time to see Soap putting back the ingredients he'd used. Soap misses the small, pleasantly surprised look that crosses John's face, but you don't, and you understand when you take a sip; the light, citrusy flavor not at all what you'd expected when you saw him break out the thick syrup. You can't help your hum of satisfaction and Soap beams. "Good, right? Not too heavy?"

"Nope, just right. Thank you."

"Good, means you'll be able to drink all night," he winks. He turns to John, motioning to the register. "Am I…?"

"No, but you know how much that would cost?" John asks as he settles next to you and powers on his laptop.

"Sixteen ninety nine," Soap answers confidently and you nearly spit the drink back out.

But John is unaffected, sliding you the remote as he pulls up some scheduling app. "Good lad," he tells Soap and the man nods once, before getting lost on the other side of the bar, cleaning glasses.

John waits until the audience has left to sneak a sip from your drink. You raise a brow at him and he nods his approval before returning it to you. You settle on some old Quantum Leap reruns and John conveniently makes it clear exactly then that you need only say if you get bored.

You can't help but grin at him. "Unlikely. My buddy made up a hell of a drinking game for this show. Been a while since I've played it so I'll have to check the rules, but I think I can keep myself entertained for as long as this block goes."

"Drinking game for a show?" John asks, apprehensive.

"'Course, boss," Soap calls from the other end, not bothering to hide his eavesdropping. "When they, then you…" To you he adds, "Drink whenever Scott Bakula looks in a mirror?"

"That's what? One to start? We can do better." And just like that, you text a friend you hadn't been allowed to speak to in years.

You don't, so you send him the new one and within moments you're settling in to intentionally get tipsy, something you haven't done since the first time Phil laid a hand on you. There's a part of you that can't help feeling this is a bad idea, but another, much larger part of you is determined to put these fears in the past. So you share the rules with Soap and John nods approvingly when he pours himself a water to drink along with you. It's silly, and you feel a little weird drinking by yourself, but John's left hand stays rooted to your thigh, and Soap is eager to make sure you drink every time you're queued. He keeps your glass full, each drink slightly different. You comment exactly once that you don't want to mix your liquors and after that, Soap keeps you plied with the same honeyed whiskey he'd started you off with. They're all delicious, and John seems to agree if his tiny nods after each sample is any indication.

Eventually, real customers start bellying up and John sneaks back behind the bar with a kiss to your temple. By now you've switched the entertainment to the game seven you've been dreading, and the quiet old man next to you seems invested so you shoot the shit with him for a bit. Soap does well, from what you can tell. At least well enough that John feels comfortable spending much of the night in the kitchen. He pops out occasionally to offer you scraps, and check the score, says he's 'starting to get invested in these muppets.' John gloms on pretty quickly to the fact that melty cheese is your weak point, and you end up eating nearly a full dinner despite your general queasiness. The small crowd that gathers around the bar is mostly older, but they're all friendly, and the atmosphere is quiet enough that personal conversations eventually grow to include the whole group and you can't help the smile that slowly grows to overtake your face. The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town. It's exactly what you said you wouldn't do, but when John subtly shakes a bottle of Advil at you from behind the kitchen saloon door, you can't bring yourself to regret it. You nod and he brings you out two along with a bottle of water. Soap switches you to ciders after that without being prompted. You're wary at first because of the sweetness, but he assures you the cider is light and crisp - that it comes from New York so you know it's good. You laugh, wondering if he knows, and take your first sip of home in years.

***

The good thing about living out of your car is you're never unprepared for anything. Before ascending to John's apartment, you stop by the Jeep to grab toiletries and pajamas. John grumbles about putting you in his clothes but you'd be mortified if you leaked on them so you make up some (not wholly untruthful) excuse about sensory issues and clothes needing to fit just right which you can see John filing away with the same seriousness he'd been using to prepare his schedule earlier. There's a nondescript door just in front of John's Suburban which he holds open for you. You lead the way up the stairs and laugh when you hear him hum appreciatively at the view it leaves him with. It turns to a squeak when he pinches just below the crease where your ass meets your thigh and then it's John's turn to laugh when the hand you reach back to stop him doesn't shove him away, simply keeps him in place. By now you've reached the landing and as John draws level with you, his heavy palm slides out and over your hip, coming to rest just a hair too low on your waistline to be decent. The landing is narrow, barely enough to fit a man as big as John, let alone your wide frame, but John doesn't seem in a hurry to open the door into his place. The only light source in the stairway is a small night light back behind John's calves and the ambient light coming through his curtained door panel. Backlit and bowed forward, John's presence is overwhelming. His scent - pine, petrichor, something personal - is inescapable and you almost wish he'd get the kiss you know is coming done and over with so you can get to finally (finally) sticking your face in his chest and just breathing.

Of course, then he does kiss you and you don't want it to end.

John's movements as he bridges the gap between you are slow and impending when he steps closer, boots heavy as one wedges its way in between your shoes. You're already impossibly close when he reels you that final inch by the grip he still has on your waist, meeting your lips with a measured duck of his head that leaves your own tilted back, neck exposed to the wide breadth of his hand which he places on the side there, cradling your jaw in such a way it keeps your head tilted exactly the way he wants you.

It's slow, sweet. Hot. John's mustache tickles but not unpleasantly - too neat and well groomed to be prickly. His lips are soft, addictive, and when he deepens the kiss, his tongue scorches across your own. He groans contentedly and somehow you know this ridiculous man is pleased with the taste of you: honeyed whiskey and sweet cider, the bits of greasy cheese he himself made for you.

He breaks off but doesn't go far, burrows his nose right under your ear and takes a deep, steadying breath. "You drive me fucking crazy, bunny. 'S this alrigh'? I can kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathe and he's immediately back on you, both hands framing your jaw now. At some point your own have found the unzipped edges of his Carhart and you try pulling him closer. You only succeed in moving yourself, however, because you'd forgotten John is built like a brick shithouse, even if he thinks he's scrawny.

He obliges you anyway, backs you up enough that you gently bump into the wall, and then your skull is cupped in a protective hand as you're pushed more insistently against it. John is a solid, burning wall at your front. Even through the layers of thermals and jackets you can feel the heat of his skin and you're torn between the desire to be naked under him, sweaty, slick, panting; and to simply see if he'd humor you by holding still long enough to be used like a heating pad.

You pant when John moves to your neck, nipping at the soft skin there until he draws a breath from you that sounds suspiciously like his name. Like this, you can see where his beanie has ridden up just slightly, exposing a bit of hair above his temple and you feel like some repressed Victorian man catching a glimpse of ankle. You're on him in a moment, sniffing his scalp like a fucking dog and you'd maybe feel a little bad about it if not for the way he groans - if not for the way his overwhelming presence makes you feel a little crazy.

"Want you," John tells the bit of décolletage he's uncovered, 'T' enunciated with teeth framing collar bone. Some harefooted intrusive thought has you wishing he'd bite down, wanting to hear it crunch under his jaw. You can feel him now, hard against your hip. He doesn't do anything with it - doesn't grind it into your flesh or bully your hands down to feel the weight of it - but it's enough to know it's there, has your grip moving under his jacket, spanning his ribs.

"John," you gasp again - pleading maybe. Perhaps a warning.

"I know, honey. I know." He sounds miserable. "Won't touch, I promise. But this is okay, right? I can -. We can -."

"Yes."

You're not sure how or when John gets the door open. There's a clatter and a lighting change you barely register from behind your closed eyes and your lifted onto a counter and that's about the hottest thing anyone's ever been able to do for you so you spread your thighs wide on instinct and John takes his reward by slotting himself in as if he bought the fucking deed. "Won't touch, sweetheart, I promise," he repeats as he shoves your coat off your shoulders and admires his handiwork. "Just want to feel you. I want -. Want to…"

Instead of running his intentions by you verbally, John drops to his knees and buries his face in the crotch of your leggings. You yip in embarrassment and try to scramble further onto the counter to get away from him but his grip on your thighs may as well be made of iron. "John, that's… I'm -."

You're interrupted by the heavy sound of his breathing as he takes a fucking whiff of your cunt.

"John!"

"Christ, bunny, I could eat your right up," John murmurs, lips still pressed against your pussy. You gape at him but the look he gives you from under his heavy brow isn't chastised at all.

He looks rabid.

You gulp and John chuckles, deep and dark. "Not gonna," he assures you yet again, but the hot streak he licks up the seam of your leggings almost has you wishing he would. "Not gonna," he says again, and you realize he's saying it for his own benefit when he stands and places a quick peck on your mons. You're briefly embarrassed by the hair he can probably feel through your thin layers, but you catch him taking another quick sniff which -.

Well, it's odd but at least it completely eliminates every ounce of self-consciousness you've ever felt about your pussy.

John groans, works his teeth against the texture he's found.

"Not gonna?" you tease him, not really at all surprised by how breathless you sound.

John huffs, hot and humid where it gets trapped in the fabric beneath his mouth. "Not tonight," he agrees.

"C'mere." You try to help his weak morals by hauling him up by the shoulder. It's a laughable attempt at best, but John doesn't laugh as he obliges.

"Shouldn't have gotten you drunk," he pouts against your lips.

"Still would've been on my period," you remind him, embarrassed as if the word shouldn't even be spoken at a time like this.

"Always did like my lamb bloody."

"John!" he laughs and you tap him lightly on the pec, which only seems to please him more.

"You won't let me play with my food, bunny?" He's looming over you now, hand resting on the counter behind you. You try to imagine him with blood - your blood - all over his face and find -,

"It's not gross?"

John's smile is wolfish and you're caught in his jaws. "No, sweetheart. One of my favorite treats."

"Oh." That's -.

Why doesn't that gross you out?

"We'll talk about it in the morning, yeah? For now, let's get you comfy and ready for bed."

He gives you one final, lingering kiss. You're not sure when he managed to pry your bag off you, but he retrieves it from the kitchen floor and guides you to his en suite. When he runs the shower, you ask if he plans on joining and the look he gives you is that of an owl spotting a field mouse.

A stupid, drunken voice in your head is starting to believe this man actually wants to eat you.

"Won't touch."

When he leaves, he doesn't close the door so neither do you.

John's body wash doesn't smell like him. It's some citrusy bergamot number, at which you are entirely pissed. Still, the water is hot and the pressure is good so you luxuriate a bit, trying to angle yourself right so that the stream can massage some of your back ache away. You had a blast today, but you'll definitely be happy just to lay down soon. You hope John's not too proper to share a bed with you as you kinda really want to be snuggled. When you exit the shower to find him sitting on his bed, staring at you unabashedly as you towel off, you're pretty sure you have your answer. You give him a little show, giggling when he grunts at the way you bend to reach your bag. Eventually you do have to shut the door on him so you can take care of some more private concerns. He's in flannel trousers and not much else when you finally emerge from the bathroom, still just sitting on the edge of the bed. You stare at him for a moment, a little timid after your show. John is solid: thick muscles cording under a thin layer of fat. You think maybe his skin looks slightly baggy on him, but it's hard to tell through the thick hair that coats him. He lets you look your fill for a moment before motioning you closer with a quick curl of his fingers. You stand between his legs and his big palm skates up over your thigh, hooking his fingers into the band of the men's boxer briefs you wear to bed from where it's visible above your sweats and snapping it lightly.

"Whose are these?"

"Mine?"

"Mm. Coulda given you a pair of mine, if you wanted."

"I can wear my own underwear, thank you," you laugh. "Wait, are you jealous?"

"Yes," John admits easily, fingers pulling at the band as if threatening to take them off.

"Of what? I bought these myself," you laugh again.

"Ah." John has the decency to look sheepish as he gently lays the band back where he found it, double rolled to keep from indenting your skin.

"You're ridiculous, you know?" His jealousy rings a tiny little alarm in the back of your mind but you choose to ignore it until you're sober and can be more reasonable.

"No argument there. Are you ready for bed now or do you want to watch something?" He looks so sweet again, big puppy dog eyes as he looks up at you. This is the man who takes you on dates and kisses your temple in public. It's hard to reconcile him with the starved animal he'd been when he'd had you laid out on his counter, but you find you definitely don't mind the duality.

"Are you up for a movie?"

He nods, "Whatever you want, honey."

"Well, what I want is a stupid kids movie, but that'll probably ruin the mood so, like… you pick."

John just smiles up at you dopily. "That sounds perfect. Anything to help me keep it PG," he winks. It's not a good joke, but he's so proud of it it's hard not to laugh. You decide on Who Framed Roger Rabbit because it's a good goddamn movie and because you don't want to subject him to anything egregiously childish. John laughs at the title and too late you realize your mistake.

"Oh, bunny, you don't think this one will be too scary for you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, fluffing a pillow a little too aggressively in his direction. He pulls it from you easily and uses it to prop himself up against the headboard a bit. The position turns his belly into a perfect pillow of your own and you dive in, kissing the ticklish hairs under your cheek just to watch his abs twitch.

"Brave rabbit. Keep testing me and Judge Doom won't be the scariest thing you see tonight."

"Why do you call me a rabbit, anyway? That a Britishism?"

"Sure."

With John's fingers in your hair and the low buzz of whiskey still in your veins, you only make it to the patty cake bit before you're dozing off.

John notices. "Am I sleeping in here tonight, bunny?" His voice is low, an earthquake at the edge of your hearing.

"God I hope so," you mumble into his belly, mortified to find a bit of drool sticking to his hair. If he notices, he doesn't say anything and you fall back asleep for a while. When the movie ends, his shifting wakes you again. You wouldn't mind except it seems the Advil from earlier has finally worn off and you're starting to get crampy. You shift, restless, but John slots himself against your back, his skin like a furnace on your achy back.

"Shh, I got you sweetheart. Go back to bed." You do, right after pulling at his arm until his broad, warm palm places a good amount of pressure right over your sensitive belly, too content to feel self conscious.

Next>>

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 27

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: stuff is going on at work (I'm not in trouble) but it's kinda dramatic rn so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Dr. Kemp walks in with a cup of tea and puts it in front of you. He insisted on making it for you and you were too hazy to deny him. You're still reeling from your session with Andy and now you're struggling to reset before your one-on-one. 

He smiles and backs away, slipping your journal from the table where you left it and bringing it to you. You take it as he claims the vacated armchair across from you.

"So," he leans an arm on the chair casually, "I know it's been a long morning. We'll try not to overwhelm ourselves, yes?"

You nod and look down at the journal. You're already there. You feel like folding over and shutting down.

"How are you feeling? Is it a lot?"

You swallow and mouth a 'yes', too weak to get much out. You can feel him watching you. You can't even look back at him.

"Right, I guess... there are some things we need to delve into. For your own good."

"Okay," you croak, resting your journal in your lap.

"Have some tea, get settled," he suggests.

You reach forward, keeping a hand on the notebook as you take the mug. You blow over the steam and inhale the scent. It smells different.

"I brought it with me, I hope you like apple cinnamon," he says.

Finally, your eyes flick up and meet his. He watches you expectantly so you take a dainty sip. You hum, it's tasty.

"Thank you," you say and put the cup back on the table.

"Not at all," he runs his fingers along the armrest, "I have a very sensitive question for you."

Your brows draw together. You stare at his neck. He takes a breath, chest rising and falling.

"How much experience do you have in intimate relationships?" He asks.

The room goes stolid as you blink. He waits as you clutch the book tight, nearly bending the hard cover. Your lip twitches and your lashes flutter.

"I..."

"I know it can be hard, but we need to talk about these things. It's obvious you have some shame associated with that part of your life and self. That's not healthy but we can't treat you if you don't talk about it," he explains, "so, you don't need to tell me everything. That's something else you can put in your journal, okay?"

"Okay," you agree, "I can do that."

"But I still want an answer. There are some things I do need to know," he prompts.

You hang your head. You bite your lip deep as you weigh how to say it. Really, it's simple.

"None," you murmur, staring at your toes, "no one wants me."

He hums thoughtfully, "maybe not before, but you must see now that that's changed. I think it's obvious how Andy feels... isn't it?"

You nod again, a lump in your throat.

"But let's not focus on him, let's talk about you. Just you. Is there anything that you've done... alone?" He leans forward, just a little.

You blanch, breathless as the room tilts. You know what he means. You can't believe it. He's only trying to help, right? He is a doctor after all.

You grab the mug, comforting yourself with the hot porcelain. You part your lips and close your eyes. Just be honest, he's not there to judge you. He might even be able to help you.

"Yes," you utter tightly, "not... much. I... I was scared... so... just a little... touch."

You hear him inhale, "right, good. Thank you for your honesty."

Your eyes snap open, "your welcome."

"Let's go over your homework," he stands and you shrink down just slightly.

You watch him as he slowly crosses the room. He has very nice eyes, you think, and his hair looks soft. There's something about him that is welcoming in that moment.

"Just a second, okay, sweetheart?" He holds up a finger.

You force a half-smile and wait as he leaves the room. He comes back with a small plastic bag. It's black and unmarked. You've never seen a bag like that. 

"May I sit?" He approaches the couch. You wave to the cushion quietly, "so, this is what you're going to work on. If you're going to get more comfortable in your relationship, you have to get more comfortable with yourself." He puts the bag on top of your journal, "you can use that to... explore yourself."

You look down and stare. He laughs again, softly. "Go on and look, it's yours."

You hesitantly touch the seam of the bag. You trace your fingers to the top and lift up the edge. Your eyes widen as you see the small silver shape in plastic packaging. You think you know exactly what it is.

"I can't..." you begin.

"You don't have to use it but you do need to... experiment with yourself. It's healthy." He says, "but if you need it... you have it now."

You move the bag under your journal as if to hide it. You give a noncommittal nod.

"And you can write down how you feel after," he offers, "oh, and... I can give you my email? If you have questions outside our typical sessions. How about that?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a burgundy pen, "can I put it in your journal?"

You bite down and reluctantly put down your mug. You open your notebook to a blank page and hand it to him. He puts down his email and shuts the book, putting it back in your lap.

"You did a really good job," he gently brushes his knuckles down your sleeve, "what happened to that purple sweater? I haven't seen you in it."

You shrug, "Andy liked this better..."

"Well, you shouldn't wear what Andy likes, you should wear what makes you feel nice," he gives a tug on the sleeve and draws away, standing with a groan, "well, I think you've had enough of me. Go enjoy your tea, doctor's order."

You look up at him. You slide forward and take your mug, standing with trepidation as you watch him. He smells like a forest. You like it.

"See you next week, right?"

"Sure, next week," you agree before turning away. You're just happy to get some time alone. You feel like you haven't had much of that lately.

🕊️

"Dove," Andy's timbre undercuts the chirpy tones of your music. You look at the door and lower the pen from your tablet, tapping pause as your dread returns, "Steve's heading out. Why don't you come say goodbye?"

You put your tablet aside and push yourself heavily across the bed. You stand and drag your feet, the handle rattle before you can reach it. Andy opens the door from the other side. 

"Sorry, I was drawing," you murmur. 

"That's fine," he says, "he asked me to come get you."

"Alright," you shrug.

Andy's eyes fall to your new outfit; the one you'd chosen yourself that morning. You see the small twitch at the corner of his lips. You move past him as if to outrun his ire.

You go downstairs and find Dr. Kemp by the door, buttoning up his black wool jacket. He has a scarf around his neck and you recall the redness in his cheeks upon his arrival. You peer out the narrow pane beside the door. 

"Is it very cold out?" You ask.

"Probably even colder now," he smiles with good humour, "I never mind it. Favourite time of year."

"Oh," you bounce on your feet, "Amber always says it's hot chocolate season."

He chuckles, "that's a good way of looking at it. Hot chocolate; I'll have to remember that next time I come."

"Oh, uh, no, you don't have to–"

"I didn't say I have to, but I want to," he assures, "you a marshmallow girl? Or you like whipped cream?"

You can't help a smile of your own, "either."

"Alright, I'll bring both," he promises, "I'm sure Andrew will stick with his dark roast."

Andy growls but doesn't argue.

"Well I see I've overstayed my welcome," Kemp says, "I'll leave you two alone. Oh, Andy," he continues as he checks his watch, "what did you need me to bring for Thanksgiving? You said no to the peach cobbler so I have to learn how to make something else."

"Bring whatever," Andy replies dismissively.

"Oh, now he changes his tune," he scoffs, "what's your favourite?" Kemp looks at you. "For thanksgiving?"

You think and suddenly feel very sad. You remember the little dinners you would have with Amber, just the two of you. She always made you your favourite dish even if it wasn't very traditional.

"Banana pudding," you eke out grimly, "but… it's not very seasonal, I guess."

"But delicious," he says, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I… I'm fine," you fold your hands in front of you, trying not to let your homesickness seep through. "I… I'll see you next time."

"Sure thing," he winks, "Andrew," he nods and shakes the other man's hand, "you take care of her. She's had a long day."

You stand, spaced out, his silhouette blurring as you hear the door open and close. You just want to lay down and not think. You don't even have the energy left to draw.

"Dove," Andy touches your sleeve, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, tired," you lie. 

"Alright," he accepts dully, "maybe you should relax like he said. How about I run you a bath?"

You don't answer. You pass him and head up the stairs. You can't tell him the truth, you know it'll make him mad. You don't want banana pudding, you want Amber's banana pudding.

"Hey, talk to me," he follows you, "a nice bubble bath sounds nice, doesn't it? It'll help take the tension out."

"Fine," you mutter as you get to the top of the stairs and turn down the hall.

"Is that it? No thanks?" He says tersely.

"I'm sorry," you face him just as you get to your door, "thank you, Andy, I really appreciate it."

"Do you? I thought we were making progress."

"We…are," you frown.

"Uh huh, is that why you brought her up?" He challenges. You shake your head. "Amber… you mentioned her and now you're all upset about it."

You push your lip out, "I miss her."

"You're better off here, where you can get better."

"I know but… she's still my sister."

"Right, and how much do you think she cares? She's got a whole house to herself now. And you've got one too," he gestures to the walls, "you have to stop thinking of that place as home, this is your home," he insists, "so go grab some PJs and I'll get the tub going."

You dip your head. You’re just sad, you wish he would realise it’s not his fault. That you’re lost and you always have been. You don’t know who you are or where you belong.

“Thanks,” you whisper and turn to open the bedroom door.

“Grab some of your new pajamas,” he says.

You go inside and open the dresser. You didn’t fail to notice that it found its way back flush to the wall. That must’ve been when Andy took your journal. That thought bites at your sadness, instead sparking your anger. You still can’t understand why he would do that.

You stop as you open the drawer and stare inside. You sift through the neatly folded clothes. A frilly pink nightie, another pair of pajamas with shorts printed with tiny purple hearts, items you would never pick for yourself. You remember what Dr. Kemp said.

You push aside the new sets and pick out the pair of plaid jammie pants and the grey sweatshirt with Snoopy on it. That’s your favourite pair of pajamas. Amber had the shirt with Woodstock. You hug the fabric and use your hip to close the drawer.

You grab the same novel you’ve been trying to finish since you got here and go back into the hallway. You near the bathroom door and peek inside as Andy bends over the tub. You clear your throat and set your things on the counter.

He stands and shakes the water of his hand. You can smell lavender. He faces you and dries his hand on a towel. His eyes drift from you to the clothes on the counter.

“Oh, those are… cute.”

“I like em,” you wring your hands.

“Yeah, but… they’re old. You have all your new stuff.”

“There’s no holes,” you argue, “and it’s getting colder.”

“Sure, sure,” he crosses his arms, his sleeves snug to his biceps.

You keep your eyes to the floor and move to stand against the counter. You glance over at the door, waiting for him to leave. He hesitates, stopping just in front of you.

“Dove, is everything okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head and examine the tiles. Your pulse is erratic. You shouldn’t say it. It’s not a big deal. But Dr. Kemp says you should speak up.

“No,” you clasp your hands tight, “I’m… I’m… annoyed that you took my journal.”

“Oh,” he lets the single syllable hang, “is that it? I apologised.”

“Yeah, but… but you went into my room and you went through my stuff,” you say, your tone wobbly, “and that’s… that’s wrong.”

“Well, dove, your room? This is my house,” he corrects you, “it’s not like I was snooping. I just forgot to ask you to grab it so I did it myself.” He sighs, “you know, I love you but you make such a big deal out of things.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” you sniff, “and… and you didn’t mention Thanksgiving. I didn’t know– I didn’t know we would do that. I… what if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to. Sweetie, why wouldn’t you want to? It’s a holiday. Our first,” he puts his hands on his hips.

You’re quiet. You swallow tightly. You take a breath and release it slowly. Your heart flips and you feel the room shift.

“Can I invite Amber?” You ask so abruptly that you have to slap your hand over your mouth. The thought escapes so fast you can’t stop it.

“Amber?” He repeats bitterly. “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Well, Thanksgiving is for family and… and you said, I want to… I want…” you can’t catch your breath, “to— say… s-s-sorry.”

“Calm down, alright? Don’t be so dramatic. Why? Sorry for what?”

“For hurting her. Like I hurt you, right? That’s what you said.”

He looks away and your eyes flick up briefly. His jaw is set and his eyes are fiery. You shy away as he faces you again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he backs up and grabs the door, “take your bath. Get your head straight.”

He storms out and slams the door. You whimper and stare at the painted wood. You’re so stupid. One step forward, a hundred backwards. You just can’t let things be good.

[heeeepot]

Toys.

oneshot 💫

pairing: bf!heeseung x female!reader

includes: smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), angry sex?, overstimulation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (alwaysss use protection!) assertive heeseung — lmk if I missed anything!

story begins under the cut ! minors, dni:)

After a long day of yelling at people who work for you, all you needed was your girlfriend.

Heeseung was tired, setting down the last file in the cabinet before locking it. Getting ready to go home, he thought about you. About how less the time you guys spend together is getting each day, and it was Heeseung's fault.

He found it difficult to make time for you with all the work coming in unexpectedly, and he understood why you would be so upset about it.

Letting out a sigh, he walked to his car, driving back to his home, it wasn't a house. It was a special girl, Y/n.

Heeseung and Y/n have been dating for 3 years now, but they've been friends for 9.

They went through everything together. Since they were in middle school, everyone knew they were going to end up together, they were too oblivious to even see how much chemistry they had growing up.

That was until they were 18 when they realized they were inlove, one was just braver to admit it. And it was not Heeseung.

That's where it all started, everything was perfect, literally perfect. Until they both started working.

They felt like an old married couple who hasn't had as much intimacy anymore. But, that didn't stop them from going on a couple dates and surprising eachother with gifts time to time.

And that was unfortunately not going to happen tonight. Heeseung had come home late, not being able to buy her a gift.

All these thoughts in his head came to an end when he parked the car. Using the keys to unlock the house, surprised to see you still awake.

"Babe? It's nearly 1 am, what's keeping you up?" Heeseung asked, with obvious exhaustion in his voice.

"That's the problem, Heeseung. It's nearly 1. Do you even know how late that is? What can happen to you out there at this time? Did you even know that I texted and called you numerous times? Heeseung we went over this, I'm getting tired." Voice nearly breaking, Y/n almost didn't hold herself together at the few last words that left her lips.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, please. I know you're tired baby and I'm sorry, I probably don't know how you feel but I know that I'm hurting you, I don't want that."

"Ok, Heeseung. 4th time you said that this week." Y/n said bitterly. She was tired with all the excuses that he had.

Walking off to their room, Heeseung follows her, handing out to her wrist.

"Babe let's talk about thi—" Heeseung was cut off, on the bed was a bunch of toys, Y/n's toys.

Y/n's instincts were to run to them and try to hide it. She knew it wouldn't help but what else was she supposed to do anyway?

"Y/n?" Heeseung's voice was suddenly stern.

"What is it now?"

"Were you— possibly using those while I was at work, baby?"

"Me? Those?" Y/n scoffed, she knew he was onto her but she just wanted to see how far she can go with this.

"Who else would use a vibrator and a dildo, baby?" Heeseung's voice is suddenly low, as if he liked it.

"Don't know, maybe your other bitch left it here." Y/n shrugged. This pissed Heeseung off, he was sensitive when it came to mentioning other girls, he only focused on you.

"Oh, yeah?"

"What do you want, Heeseung? Whatever it is, I won't do it for you." Y/n rolled her eyes, this wasn't attitude, she just wants more attention. (y/n just like me fr)

Y/n turned to enter their bathroom. She suddenly felt a force behind her, pushing her into the bathroom, and suddenly placed on the counter.

"What the fuck, Hee?" Y/n was surprised.

"Don't act like you don't want this, Y/n." Eyes dark, his hair falling in front them.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Hee." Y/n's abdomen was suddenly warm, it turned her on.

"Then I'll show you what I'm talking about." He says, unbuttoning his black polo shirt while his eyes are still locked to yours.

"H-Hee, what are you doing?" You were suddenly nervous, even though this is what you were always asking for.

"Strip." He commanded, Y/n was frozen, just looking down at his body.

"I said strip or I'll do it for you." Voice deep and low, his adam’s apple going up and down with each word that left his lips.

When Heeseung said that, you felt a little bratty. Like how you always were when it came to situations like these.

"Do it for me, baby." You leaned in, you left a kiss on his weak spot. Right under his ear, just above the collarbone. His groans were audible, hips coming closer to yours.

His hands flew to your waist which he starves for everyday. Grip getting tighter with each kiss that left him wanting more and more. Your kisses alone would make him cum, that’s how weak he is when it comes to you.

"You do me so well, Y/n." He whispered, biting his lip careful to not let out moans.

His hands traveling to your smooth thighs, squeezing them. This made you whimper into his neck.

"I love hearing you, baby." He says, squeezing your thighs more.

Your breasts were now against his bare chest, you wanted to lick every muscle he had.

"Tell me, baby. Who were those toys for?" He asked, now reaching for your ass.

"None of your business, Hee." You backed away from his neck, which now had small redish purple patches from your mouth.

"What's the attitude for?" He was getting irritated, he always found your attitude unnecessary.

"I don't see any attitude." You shrugged, getting off the counter then walking back to the room.

He then carried you over his shoulder, dropping you onto the bed, keeping both of your hands in one of his, holding it above your head.

"Heeseung!" You shrieked, struggling to get out from his grip. He was towering over you, crotch to crotch.

He ties your hands to the bed frame, leaving you helpless, and you liked it. You always liked when he was assertive.

He removes your shorts and underwear in one motion, spreading your legs open. He was met with your pussy, full of slick that he was ready to eat off you.

"Your pussy will always be my favorite late night dinner, baby." He says, his face coming closer to your core.

He licks from your hole to your clit, collecting your slick on the tip of his tongue.

"I missed your taste, I’ll call in sick for work anytime for this." He says going in for another lick.

"Fuck, Hee please be gentle." Your voice came out shaky.

"Can’t promise you that, baby." He starts eating you out full on. Sucking on your clit and fucking your hole with his tongue.

This left your legs shaking, your moans couldn't be held back from the immense pleasure you felt. You then feel him enter two long digits in you, he starts curling his fingers and it made you want his long and thick dick inside you.

"My God, baby. More please, give it to me." You moaned, tears swelling up from the overstimulation.

His tongue hitting your clit repeatedly, his fingers pumping deep inside you. Sucking on your clit, he groaned. The vibration was enough to make you cum all over his fingers.

He brought it up to his lips and licked them clean. You were catching your breath, looking at him as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue.

"I’m not done with you." He says, removing his pants and boxers, his dick springs up and hits his abs, you could never forget how big this man is.

He sticks his dick inside you, groaning and gripping on your legs, he puts it on his shoulders, putting you in his favorite position.

He thrusts without a word, your lewd sounds became louder with each thrust.

His eyes locked with your bouncing boobs which were still clothed. Oh how he missed seeing that sight.

"Fuck H-Heeseung! Feels so good baby." You managed to say.

"You wanna use your stupid little toys while I’m at work, huh baby?" He asks still thrusting his dick inside you with a pace.

“N-No. I’m sorry, please." Your eyes rolled back from the mix of pain and pleasure. You clenched on his dick.

It got a loud moan out of him.

"Your tight little cunt is gonna make me cum soon baby, so fucking good for me." He breathes out, his words adding more lube to his dick.

Within a few more thrusts, you knew you were close.

"Baby, gonna cum soon." You moaned, voice all messy from the motions.

"Cum for me, baby." Those words were enough to make you release, your body shook from the scene.

"That's a good girl, I'm cumming soon baby, keep it tight for me." Hips pounding into your abused cunt, you loved letting him own you.

"Fuck baby, am I not fucking you often anymore? How are you taking my dick in better each time?" His head throws back, showing the marks on his neck, hands on your hips.

He cums inside you, filling you till it was dripping out of your pussy. You moaned at his action, he fucks his cum into you.

"Heeseung! Enough, please!" You pleaded, you could only take so much.

Heeseung let out a small laugh, he loved when you suffered, and it was all because of him. He had you under his control.

He eventually stops, dick pulling out still glazed in your combined liquids.