#he was angry at her for her (rightful) outburst

[juniestar]

Oh my god one last thing my ex took me to outside lands and when we tried to watch lana del rey he laid down on the grass and had a “panic attack” (this was after months of him talking about how he didn’t like her) so we went to see foo fighters after a bit and he was FINE

[breaking-bad-liveblog]

Oh you think your last 48 hours have been difficult Skyler? Crimeny...

Also... I've got mixed feelings about this scene...

He asked her not to tell anyone... that's a big ask for sure. A loved one getting terminal cancer isn't something you can easily just keep under wraps and go about pretending everything is fine, but nonetheless it is his health and his private information...

I wanna emphasize, I don't think he should've tried to hide it from Skyler. When you marry someone you become a family unit, your private life is your private life but there are some things they kinda need to know about because you function as a pair and work and live together.

I don't think then trying to hide it from the rest of the family was gonna be possible but....... still.... He asked her not to tell anyone, and then when she breaks out in tears what does she say to her sister? "Ask him!" all accusatory as if he's done something wrong. And Marie looks at him as if he's done something horribly wrong.

And he did do something wrong by keeping it from his wife, but... it's not his fault for getting lung cancer. I don't think Walt deserved to be thrown under the bus like that, for her to just say "Ask him!" and then leave him alone at the table to explain. Then everyone comes in and she admits that he was hiding it and he asked her not to tell anyone about it. Just... airing all the dirty laundry for them. Like damn Skyler... she's got a right to be mad with him, but that all just felt so vindictive...

[west-tokyo-incidents]

I could have sworn I started a draft for a zombie au somewhere. Wtf...

[strawberri-blonde]

Yours to Command - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you don’t tolerate disrespect towards your betrothed and in return he shows you how much he appreciates it.

Warning: smuttttt also I used an app for the Valyrian so if it’s wrong my bad.

Masterlist

“He’s nothing but a bastard-.” The Lord couldn’t even finish his sentence as you drew your sword, crafted from the finest steel, and slashed him across the face from ear to lip.

The room erupted in gasps of horror and surprise as you cut into the man’s flesh. The Lord had been boasting to your stepmother, Queen Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, about how you should marry his eldest son, dismissing Jacaerys as an option because of his infamous brown hair. What the Lord didn’t know was that you loved Jacaerys' distinguished curls and his soft brown eyes.

“Watch your tongue as you speak of my betrothed.” Your sharp words echoed throughout the large hall as crimson dripped onto the floor and you approached the fear-stricken man. “For not only is he someone I hold dear to my heart, but he is also your Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and wields a sword better than I.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut through your enraged fog, and you felt a familiar pair of hands grip your waist.

You leaned into Jace’s grasp and turned to the queen, who didn’t look angry. Her eyes had a smugness to them, but her face remained professional. Your father, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his smirk, proud of his eldest daughter.

“My queen, I hold you in the highest respect,” you announced, bowing your head to her, then turned back to the crowd of men. “But I don’t tolerate disrespect towards my beloved.” Your eyes narrowed like a viper's with a sharp tongue. “Let this fool be my last warning to you all. As his wound scars over, I want you all to see what the least I can do, because next time I’ll take a note from my father's book and let you keep your tongue.”

The room remained still and quiet as you made sure to look every person in the eye, asserting your seriousness. “Jacaerys, please take your betrothed to her chambers, and we’ll discuss her actions,” she spoke mainly to you, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she wasn’t mad. She was proud that someone stood up for her firstborn.

Jace pressed you against his front, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his scent washing over you and soothing your rage. “Come, my love,” he whispered softly, his voice calming you, though your hard exterior remained unmoved. Keeping a death stare fixed on the bloody face of the Lord, you allowed Jace to lead you out of the council chamber with a gentle hand on your lower back.

As you both walked down the hallway, silence enveloped you, broken only by the clicking of your shoes against the stone floor. Finally, you let out a loud sigh, releasing your frustrations, and glanced up at Jace, who was walking to your right. His attention was already on you, his lips curled into a knowing smile. He was used to your angry outbursts, especially since he knew he was one of the few (besides your late mother) who could calm you.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly as you both continued the long walk to your wing where your and your sisters' rooms were. “I know you can handle it yourself.” Your blood boiled as you thought of the way the older men looked at him, trying to offer their puny excuse of sons your way. “If I offended you, I apologize.”

A chuckle escaped from the Prince's mouth, making you pause in your step. With quick movements, Jace gently pushed you against the wall between two columns and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You gasped, and he bit down on your parted bottom lip. “Please never apologize for caring for me,” he murmured, his lips barely leaving yours as his eyes bore into your own. “It doesn’t offend me knowing I have a strong woman by my side, willing to cut anyone down for speaking ill of my name.” Jace kissed you again, and you pressed your hands on his chest, gripping the black tunic with gold embroidery sewn into the fabric.

He pulled away to mumble, “I’m proud to be yours. And I can’t wait until you’re my wife.” His words made you melt like butter because you couldn’t wait either. You smiled up at him with sultry eyes.

“I can’t wait to call you husband.” Jace smiled brightly, pressing you back in for a kiss, making both of you smile into the act like grinning fools.

The kiss brought on a sense of excitement that sent chills down your spine, and a soft, almost imperceptible moan escaped your lips when his hands began to caress your waist.

Hearing your soft moans, Jacaerys dragged his tongue along your full bottom lip, making you part your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip in. Your moans grew embarrassingly louder, but they only drove the prince to kiss you harder.

His hands lowered to your hips, and without warning, he picked you up and pinned you to the wall. Your dress slid up to your thighs, allowing you to lock your ankles together, pulling him close until his groin matched your own. The stone wall was cold against your back, but with your betrothed pressing you against his hard, hot body, you had no complaints. Instead, you arched your back, making his stiffness rub against your core, leaving you craving more of this. More of him.

You could feel Jacaerys breath catch in his throat at the feeling of your body against his, and a small growl escaped his lips as his hips began to grind into yours, and his grip on your hips tightened as his eyes met yours, filled with desire.

“Y/n…we shouldn’t be doing this,” He murmured, but his body continued to betray his words, pressing against you more firmly. “Anyone could see us…”

You slipped a hand behind his head as heat pool in your abdomen and you tugged on his curls making his close his eyes in a short bliss. Your lips curled as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth bucking your hips to add friction while your mouth trailed down to his neck pressing mouth open kissed to his pearly skin. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skoros nykeā sīr called bastard iksos capable hen.” Let them see what a so called bastard is capable of.

A low, almost guttural growl escaped from the Prince’s lips. “Hang va issa, beloved.” Jace secured his grip on you while your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fists clinging to his curls for dear life. “Open,” he commanded. If it were anyone but him or the queen, you would’ve laughed in their face, but for Jacaerys, you’d gladly walk off a cliff if he so desired. Hang on my beloved.

"I'm yours to command, my prince," you responded, your voice low and breathless. You parted your lips, but Jace couldn't help himself and pressed his open mouth to yours. With one hand, he raised your dress higher, his fingers slightly grazing your covered heat before ripping your stockings and excusing your cotton underwear.

When he pulled away, you immediately whimpered but were silenced by his pointer and middle finger shoving their way into your mouth. Your eyes widened at first, but as his brown eyes bore into yours, you began to suck his digits and even swirled your tongue around them. "By the gods, you’re perfect," he began. "And you’re all mine."

He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth, making sure to caress your bottom lip. With haste, he reached under your bunched-up fabric to tease you slightly by gliding his soaked fingers against the already wet fabric of your undergarments.

"My Prince, please." Jace kissed your lips, hushing you as he pulled your coverings aside and pressed against your mound, sliding into your slick folds. He caressed you up and down, teasing your clit down to your entrance. "Gods."

Your head tilted back, hitting the stone wall in ecstasy as his rough fingers began to circle around your pearl. This wasn’t the first time Jace had touched you there. You both hadn’t been all that patient with waiting until you were wed, but as the honorable gentleman that he is, you hadn’t consummated anything because Jace really wanted to wait until the wedding night. However, that didn’t stop you both from getting your pleasure from other things. If it were up to you, the dragon rider would’ve already had the best ride of his life.

"Jace." You moaned out as he began the motion of figure eights, making your legs shake in delight.

"I love you like this, Princess." His hot breath hit your face as he leaned over you and kissed your parted lips. "When we wed, I plan on taking you in every nook and corner of this palace until you're full of my seed." Your cunt pooled at his words, and Jace could feel how wet you were becoming by the slushing sound his fingers made against your throbbing nerve. "You want that, my beloved?"

Loud moans spilled from your swollen lips as you helplessly nodded, knowing that if you didn’t respond in some way, he’d stop. “Yes,” you managed to get out as your abdomen tightened and your breath hitched, feeling that familiar, eye-blinding sensation start to form. “I can’t wait to be full of your children, letting everyone know what you did to me.” Jace kissed down your neck and sucked on that one spot that made you weak in the knees. “And I want them all to know how much I liked it.”

The prince sucked harder, and without realizing it, you began to yank at his curls, making his desire burn more intensely, especially as your moans increased and became shorter, signaling your very close end. “Cum syt issa, issa jorrāelagon milk issa fingers rūsīr aōha sweetness nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao withering isse pleasure.” Cum for me, my love milk my fingers with your sweetness I want to see you withering in pleasure.

As his fingers continued their steady pace, rubbing against your clit, and his mouth worked against your neck, your body tensed in delight as your orgasm washed over you like a dragon's fire. No words left your parted lips, and you were grateful that Jace pressed his against yours in a kiss, because after that intense pleasure, you just wanted to be engulfed by nothing but him.

"I love you," you whimpered, making his boyish grin return to his face as he slightly pulled his head back to look at you. His hand slipped out from your undergarments, and he pulled your dress back down to cover your exposed thighs, keeping your skin hidden from view.

He sucked his fingers clean before he spoke. “Issa prūmia exists outside issa chest kesrio syt nyke’ve given ziry naejot ao se moment nyke tegon issa laesi va ao.” The brightest smile spread across your face, and as the two of you kissed, engrossed in the love surrounding you, someone clearing their throat made you both pull away like two deer caught by dogs. My heart exists outside my chest because I’ve given it to you the moment I land my eyes on you.

“Aōha valyrīha emagon gotten rōvēgrior, nephew.” Jace's face turned crimson from embarrassment, unlike the oversized pig of a man who had insulted him earlier, whose face was red with blood. Your Valyrian has gotten excellent, nephew.

You glared at your father, Daemon, as the prince carefully set you back on your feet and stood in front of you, nudging you behind him, between the columns. "But could you not corrupt my daughter before the wedding ceremony?" His knowing smirk could be seen over your beloved's shoulder, and he stood tall with his hands laced in front of him.

“Daemon-“ Jace began but your father raised a hand to stop him.

"Please just take her to her chambers before the Queen decides not to marry you a week from today." This news had you clenching Jace's hand, and he smiled down at you because the date hadn't been set yet. "And act surprised when she announces the news to you both, and please, no public displays of your love at least until after the wedding." Daemon shot them a sinful grin before nodding them off and walking past them.

"A week," you whispered with excitement, pulling Jacaerys into a loving kiss, which he returned with just as much enthusiasm. He grabbed your waist, began to pull you from the wall, and spun you around, making both of you laugh with joy.

Hoped you all enjoyed it’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I’m in my Jace era and I’m truthfully scared to be in it because I know my hearts going to be ripped out of my chest.

~ Caroline

[gay-dorito-dust]

You may request A batboys reacting to the death of the reader

First time writing for Tim, so he’s probs ooc in this one.

Dick feels as though he’s failed you.

He tries to act like he was fine but he was far from it and everyone knew it as they stepped on eggshells with him during this time.

Dick would often find himself sat on the very rooftops where he’d take you on countless dates or just to star gaze and talk as though you were still with him.

It was his own way of comforting himself with your loss but that was never enough to stop the tears that fell from his eyes when he spotted a bright star he’s never seen before until now, and laughs humourlessly.

‘I see you’ve finally made your way amongst the stars huh sweetheart?’ He’d say as your star would twinkle in response, making him chuckle. ‘You’re so beautiful, the brightest of your kind.’ He adds sombrely as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as he felt his heart sing out for you, only to receive nothing in return.

Reality was often disappointing but with you it was a fairy tale.

Waking up to you was a dream within itself and getting to do mundane things with you before heading off to work was something that could only exist in a daydream.

He knew Hayley misses you as badly as he does with how he’d hear the poor dog whine and whimper at the door, as if waiting for you to walk through it and tackle her with kisses and love like you always did, only to get nothing for hours.

‘I know, I miss them too.’ He says against Hayley’s fur as she whimpers and whines at the door. ‘I miss them so fucking much it hurts.’ He adds as he allows himself to mourn for you alongside his dog long into the night.

Jason blames himself for not being fast enough or strong enough to keep you protected and safe.

The apartment you once shared with him that only recently had started to feel like home to him now felt cold and haunted with the ghost of you, so much so to the point he avoids it at all cost.

Nothing felt right without you, everything felt wrong and unjustified that he became more ruthless then before on patrols just to let off some steam and would come back from them more beaten and bruised then normal.

He didn’t care, he couldn’t feel anything anymore with how numb he became after loosing you.

Dick and Roy would stop by to see how he was doing but each visit was the same with Jason refusing his older brother and best friend entry as he held one of your plushies tightly against his chest. He knows they mean well but he just couldn’t find it within himself to hear the same thing he’s heard from everyone else; It just felt disingenuous after a while and didn’t feel as though people truly understood the impact that you had on him throughout your time together.

Jason would become more destructive with himself and going headfirst into danger without a second thought and damns his teammates for dragging him out by the scruff of his neck as he fights and kicks out of their hold. He doesn’t want to be saved! He just wanted to be with you again, why couldn’t they see that?!

After loosing you Jason becomes more prone to angry outbursts and often lets them out on the wrong person but he couldn’t care less at this point, his favourite person was gone and he was left back where he was before you.

Lost and deeply afraid.

Tim would retreat from everyone and everything by cooping himself into his room, rarely to come out.

He’d rather rot in his bed and on his phone, looking through all the photos you’ve taken together and seeing just how happy you both were, all the while a pit in his stomach grew at the thought of all the plans you’ve made but would never get to do.

He hated how easily he gave you his heart and hated it even more at just how easy it was to loose you that he wishes that he could stop himself from meeting you for the first time, just so he could selfishly save himself from the best moments of his life and the inevitable heartbreak he’d soon suffer.

Tim would do anything in his power to get you back but knew that it just wasn’t possible.

He knew Jason was given life by the Lazarus pit but he wasn’t willing to subject you to that even if he was held at gunpoint. He’d rather you rest in peace than force you to live with the knowledge that you should technically be dead.

Tim would remain in his room, wondering about the what ifs and the what could’ve beens if you hadn’t died. Would someone have taken your place? Was your death an unchangeable fixed point in time that was meant to happen?

He would only be reunited with you in his dreams where he has saved you and you had gotten to live out the rest of your life happily, rather then left for dead in an alleyway not too far from the place where you were originally going to meet up for date night.

Damian dedicated his life to getting revenge.

He had lost the light in his life, so why should he think his adversaries should live when you weren’t even given the option?

There will be more bodies pilling up on the streets of Gotham at a faster rate than normal whenever Damian is on patrol, much to Bruce’s dismay.

His anger and grief was all consuming and that left little to no room for logic to make him stop and see what he was doing was no better than the thing that took you away.

Life was black and white for a long time for Damian and you were the colour.

You were the air he breathed and without you he was gasping.

He knew about the Lazarus pit in his grandfather’s possession and its mythical properties and how it gave Jason a second chance at life. However he was at a cross roads on using it for his own selfish gain, on one hand he could have you back and everything would be fine again, but on the other hand you wouldn’t be the version of you he fell in love with…

Damian didn’t know what to do. The grief, the anger, the sadness…it was all too much for him. He felt as though he apart of him was missing and he would never get it back, it just wasn’t possible.

Bruce feels as though nothing has changed since his parents death.

He may be older, faster, stronger and wiser but that didn’t mean nothing in the face of death, and your death only proved that to be true as he held you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he quietly sobs into your cold neck.

Much like Tim, Bruce doesn’t take care of himself anymore and it was up to Alfred to make sure that he doesn’t keep over and die unexpectedly.

‘They wouldn’t want this for you sir.’ Alfred would say as Bruce slams his hands down on the surface of his desk. ‘And what would you know that they want for me Alfred, y/n’s dead and it’s my fault.’ He would bark and bare his teeth at the only father figure he had in his life, a father figure whom has seen this expression bore on the young master’s face more times then he could count, but it still hurt him to see Bruce in pain and heartbreak.

‘They would want you to take care of yourself, sleep proper hours, eat full meals, shower, reach out to anyone,’ Alfred began to walk towards Bruce and place a hand on his shoulder, where he could practically feel the unbridled anger and pain radiation through him that he kept under control. ‘They wouldn’t want you to wallow in pain alone, Gotham needs you.’

‘And I needed them.’ Bruce replied sharply, aggressively wiping his eyes with his hand as he looks over at a framed picture of you that he always kept nearby. ‘All I wanted was them.’ He adds softly this time as he looks at Alfred, lost and confused at what to do now that his anchor was gone. ‘I miss them so much Alfred.’

Alfred brings Bruce into his arms, much like he did when he lost his parents, when he lost Jason and now you, allowing him to burrow his face into the Butler’s shoulder and softly sob into the fabric. Alfred felt his heart break even more as he rubbed Bruce’s back in an attempt of bringing him comfort. ‘I know master Bruce, I know, but you’d be doing their memory a great disservice by destroying yourself.’ The older man started as he looked over at the framed picture of you and smiled soberly, you were a beacon to Bruce and Alfred wasn’t afraid to say that he viewed you as his in law with how happy you made Bruce and that was all Alfred could ever want for him.

Now that you were gone, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the manor got just that little bit lonelier without you.

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

[primofate]

You, Wriothesley's therapist.

TW: mentions of murder, depression, trauma

Sigewinne takes care of the physical injuries in the Fortress...but that place must have a lot of mental instabilities, trauma, depressive states as well, right?

Enter you who is hired by the Iudex to take frequent visits to the fortress and check on a list of people's well-beings.

The Iudex hired you, not the duke, though it WAS the duke's idea, he didn't think he was fit to choose and hire a "therapist", Neuvillette was probably more adept at that.

On the first day of your job, the list or people to check on is rather extensive and you talk and meet with a lot of new people just on the first day.

That guy who killed his best friend and is haunted by dreams of the scene.

That young lady who has spiralled into depression because she's separated from and unable to see her daughter.

That old man who has anger issues because he just didn't think he had done anything wrong.

It was probably a week or two after you were appointed that you finally met the person in charge of the place. The Duke, as they call him.

He seemed like a pretty strict guy, but when he thanked you for looking after the people here, you thought he wasn't that bad.

"I'm just doing my job,"

"A really hard one at that," he comments.

The next time you see him is months after, but this time he only passes you a glance, and rather quickly strides off to his office.

The next day, he seeks you out and apologizes for it.

"I was...in a bit of a rush,"

You wonder why he even apologizes. "...It's no big deal,"

"...I hope that you know that you're welcome here. I don't think you quite understand how difficult your job is, trying to shoulder everyone's past and fixing their psyche for their future,"

You look up at him, and tilt your head a little, squinting your eyes and trying to get a good read out of him...then it hits you.

The Duke needs therapy too.

"...I think you're a little stressed, your grace. Is there a quiet place where we can comfortably chat in?"

How were you to know it was going to end up in tea time? Yes the duke had issues, some deep seated ones, but not as much as the common folk that you were trying to work with. And yet you found yourself having tea with him even though it wasn't "work" related anymore.

All the two of you talked about were stories of the past, and shared a laugh or two about some silly or outrageous story he or you shared.

Weeks later there came a time when the angry old man you'd been working on had an outburst. He didn't mean to. None of your patients ever mean to, not when they had such big emotions, such big events to get over, such pent up emotions and such deep, deep regrets.

Old man had thrown a wrench at you, he was surprisingly strong, probably from working in the fortress for a while. You were caught off guard, not to mention you weren't even sitting too far away from him. You managed to shield yourself from it, but your arm bruised hours later.

You didn't think it merited a visit to Sigewinne, besides it was nearly home time for you.

"Done for the day?" You bristled a little at the sudden voice of the Duke, not expecting to see anymore of him today.

"Mmhmm," you simply answered his grin. You also didn't think it was something to hide from him. So your bruised arm was there for him to see in plain sight.

His grin disappearing and his eyes narrowing at the sight alerted you that it was perhaps something that you should've kept from him. "Where'd you get that?" He was 1000% sure you didn't have it when you had tea with him at noontime today.

"This...Well...Corrin was...having a particularly bad day," you moved your arm behind your back with a small smile, wanting to brush it off, but Wriothesley puts his hand out in expectation.

"Let me see it,"

For a moment the two of you just stare each other down. You wondering what the big deal was, him not backing down. When you didn't move an inch he gives in and adds the magic word. "Let me see it, please,"

You lift your arm up towards his head with a sigh and he receives it shockingly gently. He inspects it like it's some kind of puzzle he needs to solve, thorough and detailed. "Did you let Sigewinne see?" before you could even reply he adds "How did this even happen? Why was I not told?"

"It's..." You start. How do you explain? That you were supposed to be your patients' safe space. That nothing is supposed to harm them when in a session with you, that everything was in confidentiality. Working with troubled people, things like this were bound to happen, and it was only the first time.

He catches on to it quite quickly. "...It's your job," he finishes for you.

"...Precisely,"

The big sigh he lets out at the same time as releasing your arm has you wondering, really, why he seemed so stressed all over again. Over you.

Did you really not know the reason? You had an inkling why, you were a therapist after all. You got into people's minds for a living and Wriothesley wasn't exactly being subtle, but... you didn't want to assume.

"...How about I come with you next time?" he offers. You smile a little. "I don't think Corrin would be comfortable enough to talk with you hovering around,"

He grumbles something under his breath, like a defeated, stubborn puppy. "He doesn't have to know... I'll stand outside, or something,"

You laugh a little. "...The Iudex already has terms on my working contract when things like this happen. I'm supposed to drop the patient if "physical disputes" happen a total of three times and after three warnings are given."

Wriothesley huffs, though it sounds more like a scoff. "Leave it to him to think of everything. Doesn't seem fair," he moves so that he stands next to you, and places a hand on your upper back, pushing you the slightest bit to walk with him. You notice he's steering you towards the Fortress' infirmary.

"What doesn't seem fair?" You ask with genuine curiosity, not knowing what he was implying.

He's silent only for a beat more, but he doesn't look at you as he answers, only continues walking forward. "That he gets to protect you and I don't,"

You can't mistake the somersault your heart makes, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling silly.

The Duke needs the occasional therapy.

Or maybe he just needs you.

[starmocha]

Rock-a-Bye Sylus + Daughter | 1122 words | AO3 Sylus has a stubborn little birdie who won’t go to sleep. A/N: God, I was not prepared for this man to sing “Rock-a-Bye Baby.” My womb and I have not been the same since then.

Sylus sat behind his desk, going over some new intel he had received that night. The door to his office was opened ajar, the hallway dimmed light filtered in. As his eyes skimmed the documents, his deep voice rumbled softly, “Mephisto is in here with me, so who is that little birdie lurking outside my office?”

He smirked when he heard a tiny startled gasp. He looked up just in time to catch a small shadow quickly backing up against the wall to hide.

“Baby,” his voice called out, “come into Daddy’s office.”

He waited, seeing the hesitation from the person outside, and after nearly a minute, he watched his office door opened further, a little girl in a pink nightgown walked into his office looking guilty.

“It is eleven, why are you not in bed, baby?”

“How…did Daddy know it was me?”

Sylus tilted his head in amusement at the little girl’s question, his eyes drifting over to the mechanical crow in his office. His daughter noticed and she instantly stomped her foot. The little girl gave a pout and then she turned and glared at the mechanical bird perched near her father’s desk.

“Mephie tattled on me!”

The mechanical crow looked startled before it lowered its head in shame, giving a sad coo.

Sylus had a hard time hiding his amusement, chuckling at his daughter’s angry pout. “Don’t be mad at Mephisto, baby,” he said calmly, “Look, his feelings are hurt.”

Instantly, the little girl looked guilty for her outburst. She walked over to near Sylus’ desk and reached up on her tippy toes to stroke the crow’s feathers. Her voice was very small and remorseful, “I’m sorry, Mephie…”

Mephisto gave a cheerful caw, earning not only a smile from the little toddler but also her father.

Sylus reached over and patted his daughter’s head gently, smoothing out her hair. “Now, baby, do you want to tell me why you are still awake at this hour? I thought Luke and Kieran had put you to bed.”

“They did…” she responded, looking down at the white kitty cat slippers she was wearing. She shuffled her feet guiltily, and then confessed, “I miss Mommy…”

Sylus’ expression softened, empathizing deeply with the little three-year-old girl. He leaned back in his chair and patted his lap, gesturing for his daughter to come closer. Delighted, the little girl immediately scampered over and raised her arms, waiting for her father to lift her up. Sylus easily picked her up, settling her comfortably on his lap. He smiled when she snuggled closer to him.

“I know you miss Mommy, baby,” he started gently, “but Mommy is away on a mission right now. Didn’t she video chat with you and said good night earlier?”

“It’s not the same,” his daughter replied with a pout, crossing her arms stubbornly. She looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes, “I want to stay up with Daddy.”

Sylus sighed and shook his head. “Daddy has business to take care of tonight.”

“I can be as quiet as a mouse, Daddy!”

Sylus chuckled and stroked her cheek affectionately, pleased when he heard her sweet little giggles. “I know you can, my little birdie,” he said, but shook his head again, “But this type of business is for grownups only.”

“Okay…” The little girl looked down sadly, her legs idly kicking back and forth as she stared at her kitty slippers.

Sylus stroked her hair to comfort her. “Come on, baby,” he said, “it’s well past your bedtime.”

“What about Daddy’s bedtime?”

“Daddy’s bedtime is in the morning,” Sylus answered curtly, carefully lifting his daughter into his arms as he stood up. She clung to him as he carried her out of his office. Cheekily, she waved at Mephisto as she was taken away. The mechanical crow cooed softly.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can’t I stay up with you?”

Before Sylus could respond, he caught sight of Luke and Kieran searching from room to room down the hallways. He stopped, and cleared his throat, alerting the twins.

“Did you two lose a little birdie?” He paused, and added with an exasperated sigh, “Again?”

“Uh, listen, Boss,” Luke started, panicking, “It wasn’t our fault!”

Kieran instantly agreed, “Yeah, we tucked her in real good. We even stood outside the door for ten minutes to make sure she didn’t sneak out again!”

“And yet she escaped. Again.”

“Boss—”

The little girl giggled. “Sorry, Lukey, Kier-Kier…”

Kieran sighed and crossed his arms. “Little Miss, you are lucky you are so adorable.”

Luke interjected, “Don’t worry, Boss, we’ll make sure she’ll go to bed this time—”

“Forget it,” Sylus cut in, already walking past the two. “I’ll tuck her in myself.”

The twins sighed and waved weakly at the smiley, waving girl.

As Sylus approached his daughter’s bedroom, he felt her squirming in his arms. He paused and looked down. “Is this little birdie trying to fly away?”

“Maybe…”

Sylus shook his head and opened the bedroom door. Inside the large room, there were countless toys and books, much too excessive for a little three-year-old girl to have, but money meant absolutely nothing to Sylus when it came to his daughter’s happiness. Sylus walked to the middle of the room where there was a large canopy bed with sheer pink curtains and fairy lights strewn about waiting for its little owner to return. As Sylus tucked his daughter into her bed, he noticed her sulking again. “Baby, it’s almost midnight. You should have been asleep four hours ago.”

“Can I have a song, Daddy?”

“Trying to strike a deal, are you?”

The girl gave her best pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Deal accepted,” Sylus answered, sitting down on his daughter’s bed. He smiled as she snuggled up to him. “You might be the only person around this place who appreciate my singing.”

Sylus smiled when he saw his daughter yawning. Despite her stubbornness the whole night, it wouldn’t take much to finally lull her to sleep. His large hand gently held onto her little hand, stroking it tenderly as his deep voice sung softly, “Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop…”

He watched as sleepy little eyes drifted close as he sang her a lullaby. When he had finished, his daughter was already sound asleep, cuddled up close to him, breathing softly. Sylus took a glance at a clock in his daughter’s bedroom.

He was already running late to the meeting.

The meeting could wait, Sylus decided. After all, the people waiting for him to arrive needed him, not the other way around. He settled more comfortably in bed next to his sleeping daughter, his deep humming the only sound heard in the large bedroom.

[koolaidoverwriting]

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Gender Neutral Reader

Request. I wasn't sure if you meant Jack x Jeff. I stuck to separate SFW and NSFW headcanons. But you can send another ask to clarify! :)

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, But Also Romantic Fluffy Stuff, Blood, Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Biting, Not Graphic

NSFW UNDER CUT! MINORS DNI!

EYELESS JACK

SFW:

Jack doesn't feel as much empathy or sympathy as other people. It definitely takes a long time for him to warm up to you, let alone get comfortable enough to date you.

Jack is an outlier in the mansion. He likes being alone, doing his own thing. Plus, a lot of people don't like his bluntness and sarcasm.

His tar spills faster when he's upset, but it's pretty much gone when he's happy. That's why he hardly cries tar around you.

He has a hard time showing affection through his words, but you know he loves you. Sometimes, he just pops up and holds your hand, or wraps his arms around you.

When you're hurt, he tends to your wounds, cooks you warm meals, and stays by your side. It's a mutual silence where you're just enjoying each others' presence.

Jack is a bookworm. You spot the books he reads and you check them out. Jack is over the moon when you randomly reference his favourite book. "Did you really read that for me?"

Surprisingly, Jack talks a lot. He rants about his interests in gardening and science.

Speaking of gardening, he'll most definitely grow your favourite flowers for you. He'd give you handmade bouquets and flower crowns, as well as perfumes and scented candles.

Jack isn't against light–hearted teasing. He says flirty things just to catch you off guard since you aren't used to it. Most of these "flirty things" are phrases he heard from TV shows.

He does try to get you to try kidneys. If you refuse it because it's raw, he'll cook it for you. If you refuse it because it's gross, he'll shrug a shoulder and eat it himself.

NSFW:

Jack is gentle with you. He knows how much smaller you are in comparison, so he makes sure he doesn't bruise you.

If you allow it, he'll bite you enough to draw blood, but nothing more.

His ears are sensitive! Licking or biting them gets him all worked up.

Jack has three tongues that overlap in his mouth, meaning he's a fucking demon with oral sex. His tongues squirm inside of you, hitting all the right spots. He could eat you out for hours before substituting his tongues for his cock.

When he sees you're close, he only fucks you harder.

Jack's cock doesn't fit inside you all the way. Your senses leave you, and you're a drooling, blubbering mess as he rams into your entrance.

After you're done, he'll clean up any blood that spilled and kiss your bite marks. While cuddling, he asks you what you want to eat. He'll cook anything for you.

JEFF THE KILLER

SFW:

Jeff lives in the mansion and has been living there since he was 17. Before that, he lived with a blind old woman who thought he was her grandson.

Dating him means you're going to have to get used to his angry outbursts until he learns how to control them better. He tends to lash out and then apologise later. You're sure with enough patience, things might get better. Especially because you know he's trying his best.

He loves emo music. In fact, he collects merchandise from the concerts he sneaks into. At night, you get to cuddle with Jeff while some emo song blasts on his speaker.

He also plays the electric guitar and would love to teach you how to play. And if you already know how to play, he'll get really excited about duetting with you.

Jeff has had self-esteem issues since the incident. He tries everything to make himself "beautiful", taking extensive care of his skin, hair and clothes.

He believes the scar makes him look better, maybe because it distracts from other parts of his face he's insecure about. He refreshes his cut every month.

You have to remind him that he's beautiful just the way he is. There are nights where you argue over it, but you try everything you can to help him overcome his insecurities — or at least accept his flaws.

He has a knife collection. He paints the handles of his knives all different colours. Some days, you could sit and talk with Jeff while you paint knife handles together.

"Can I test the sharpness on you?" "What?" "...I'm joking."

Jeff isn't a good cook. He never put time into learning how to cook. You, knowing he has to learn at some point, convince him you're on a "cooking date" whenever you want to teach him how to make a meal.

NSFW:

I already have a NSFW post for Jeff, but these are softer alternatives for when he's in a relationship.

Known fact: Jeff will use his knife during sex. He enjoys grazing it across your skin, smiling at your "cute" reactions.

The tip of the knife scratches your thighs. Your legs twitch as he looks into your eyes with a needy look.

Jeff likes seeing your desperation. He loves it when you grind against him, begging for his cock. He'll keep his hands off you, forcing you to grind helplessly. "Horny little bitch... Yeah, tell me how much you want me."

He fucks you at a rough, unstable rhythm as he tries to reach his peak. When he's in the zone, it's only his orgasm that matters to him.

Jeff mutters profanities under his breath with almost every thrust. It's a mixture of praise and degradation. "Fuck... D–Damn slut... You feel so fucking good..."

For aftercare, he doesn't do much. Just small things like giving you water and cuddling with you in bed. It's simple and it's nice.

!!! i'm very sorry if you meant "jack x jeff"! feel free to let me know in another ask, though!

[pedge-page]

#5 Joel dealing with his fiesty preggo wife - angry af

Can be read with others in the series or standalone

Notes: Pedro chewing gum between takes on set does things to me.

Warnings: unprotected rough sex, Daddy kink, degrading language, reader being mean at first but Joel gives it right back *winkwink*

18+ ONLY

- - - -

The two of you are sitting in the living room on your respective sofas. You keep giving Joel the devil eye from your book in your lap as he watched the football game on TV.

Eventually, you roll your eyes, slam your pages shut and stand up, barreling past him and intentionally knocking your shin angrily against his knee.

"The fuck?" He coughs.

"You're fucking annoying, Miller."

"Funny, thought that was your name too now?" He quips, eyes staring back ahead to the TV while he points to the gold band on his left finger. "What have I done now?"

"Your chewing."

Joel side eyes you, expression unchanged as he blows the most obnoxious bubble from his gum imaginable before letting it pop! and sucking back in his mouth to chew. "What about?"

“It's annoying. And you're disgusting."

"Am I now? What else?"

"You've got a big ugly ass nose, too."

As much as Joel suspected this angry outburst out of nowhere was just the pregnancy setting every little nerve on edge with you, he want exactly privy to being attacked with your foul words.

"S'that right? you didn't seem to have a problem with my big ugly ass nose last night when you came four times from this snout nudging your little clit when I ate ya out."

"I was fakin' it," you scoff unconvincingly, the both of you knowing it’s a lie. But you refuse to back down. "While we're at it, here's another thing: You eat pussy like a bitch."

Joel Miller did not like it when a woman had to fake shit around him. Let alone his woman obviously lying about faking it. He stands up, the broad physique of his body instantly shadowing yours. "Ya know, I don't really like your tone today, young lady." He approaches you calmly but with a threatening predatory aura.

You tilt your head mockingly. “Yeah? My young lady self is stuck here with your old, miserable, lazy ass." You don't shuffle away, feet staying planted where they are until he's directly on top of you. Your eyes narrow, challenging one another. "It's a honestly a miracle that you even knocked me up with your wrinkly, shriveled, limp dic—“

 - 

Being married is a funny thing. Sometimes you don’t even have to say what it is you don’t realize you need, but your spouse is very adapt at picking up on it. Like right now, with face being shoved into the headrest of the couch by your husband’s meaty hand on top of your head, pregnant belly hanging over the curve of the cushion while you’re knees rub against the plush seat, Joel’s incessantly powerful hips driving forcefully into your stuffed cunt over and over again like a screen door in a hurricane. 

You’re smiling like a happy drunk, moaning off the top of your lungs as Joel’s cock continues to fill you effortlessly. He’s grunting and swearing, drips of his sweat trickling on to your arched back. Normally this position would hurt, especially with the extra 30 pounds of weight in your middle completely weighing you down, pressing uncomfortably into the couch, but my, oh my does it feel like a incredulous weight off your once aggravated mind.

“Ugh--ahh! FUck!” You cry, teeth sinking into the plush leather.

“What? Ya tired already?" he taunts, panting gleefully at your submissive state. "You wanted this. Remember? Just needed a good fucking, is that it?” He seethes, rutting his hips like daggers. 

You nod dumbly, elbows fighting to keep you and the baby from being plowed into the cushion. You throw as much of your weight back on to him with each thrust, forcing him deeper.

“Yeah, oh fuck me baby— yeah that’s it.” He licks his lips, watching the spot where your swollen and glistening pussy continues to suck his length back in. “My poor little wife, needed her cunt fucked stupid to get that little brain to shut off. Little cumdump gettin all antsy, startin’ a fight when she just needed a fresh fillin'. Don’t you worry, angel. Daddy’s here to put ya back in your place.”

With one hand still forcing your face into the headrest, the other is gripping your meaty hip, bringing you flush against his thighs with each puncture. You can feel him reaching the deepest part of you, the part that you didn’t know needed itched until Joel knew to stick his cock in it.

“Ye-yes daddy!” you whine when he hits that squishy spot inside that has you seeing stars, finger nails biting into the leather as you milk his cock with your orgasm.

“Ah-fuck yeah baby, keep goin’, keep cummin’ on Daddy’s dick—that’s my whore—my good wife—FUCK yeah!—fuuucckkk, ya needed that cum, I can feel it. Squeezin’ me so god damn tight. That’s it, just let go, give me everything, Daddy’s got ya.”

And what made Joel Miller so different, so husband and now soon-to-be-father worthy, is that, even though he’s railing his heavily pregnant wife in a position that would cause most women pain, you were as comfortable as can be. Despite the aggression that poured from his lips and hips, his hands occasionally cradled your tummy, checking on the baby’s movements. Glides down your back, massaging your spine to ensure you’re relaxed and not cramping. Listens for your breathing, the sounds that escape your throat, waiting for any sign that you might be in pain. He’s constantly making small adjustments for your comfort without you even fully realizing it. You couldn’t be more in love with him.

And his big fat delicious cock that put a beautiful baby in you and hopefully, will continue to do so for many years to come.

- - - -

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[gayofthefae]

You know how I know Mike is queer?

These are the same person. Mike is an inherently caring, loving, and protective person. It's what Will called out in 4x08 and reminded us of with Mike's desire and practice in attempt to be a "hero" and be able to help the ones he loves.

But when El tells him she feels unloved by him, he doesn't comfort her. At all. He defends himself. He doesn't even say "yes I do". He says "I say it". Even when he's arguing that he loves her, he is defending himself, not comforting her. If he was comforting her he would have reacted to her crying at all. He doesn't. He just becomes increasingly desperate and escalates the tactics that are making her cry more.

Because the accusation is that important to him. Not many things could be so important to him that he would deprioritize her or taking care and protecting and comforting those he loves. He even does quite well at it at the start of the scene. We have PROOF that he is pretty stable these days with any sort of accusation or invalidation with how well he takes "you don't understand" and simply asks questions without any sort of offense. So he CAN take it. He takes it IN THIS CONVERSATION.

But when she says he doesn't love him, he stops the "they just don't know you". He stops the "don't say that about yourself, you're lovable," which is what this is really about for her. If he had said that even if he couldn't say it himself, it might have still helped a little bit: frame it as his own fault if he can't. But he couldn't do that. Instead, he went with how it reflected on HIM that he couldn't say it and defended himself AGAINST her. FOUGHT her on it.

There are few things that can make him fight a person. And they've all actually been pretty similar. They're all El:

"You're prioritizing El over Will"

"There is something off about your relationship with El"

"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"

"He's right that your and [El's] relationship wasn't a good one"

"Your and El's relationship wasn't a good one"

"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"

"You don't love [El]"

He is comforting. He is kind. He prioritizes others' comfort and safety consistently. He takes other accusations fairly lightly and focuses back onto the person making them and their emotions. And yet, what does he say in those instances and only those instances?

"SHUT. UP."

"You lying piece of shit. You're crazy!"

"It's not my fault you don't like girls!"

"He's just some crazy old man"

"You're conspiring against me!"

"We're friends! We're friends!"

"You're being ridiculous. What is this?"

People who say his character has gotten worse are stating it under the idea that he is always like this. The entire discovery so many people, including myself, had that he's queer was because we noticed that his outbursts were consistent. People think he's random and angry because they think the situations are random: Lucas, Hopper, Will, Max, El. But they're forgetting to note what each of those people questioned about him right before.

The biggest proof is that he doesn't ever talk like this outside of these situations. It's lighthearted debates and empathetic conversations.

Mike Wheeler is a kind person. If he said "You're being ridiculous. What is this?" it is not just because he's scared of vulnerability or commitment.

[makeyoumine69]

Memory Reboot

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: You work at P&P, and one day you come into Bateman's office and witness his breakdown. Your attempts to comfort him only increase his obsession with you, and without realizing it, you push this man to his limits. The outburst that finds you both in a club called the Tunnel will change your lives forever and irrevocably.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, obsessive behavior, desperate-touch-starved Patrick, masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), aggressive foreplay, dirty talk, body worship, teasing, biting, drug usage, pet names.

WORDS: 3k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent - Memory Reboot

A/N: This is for my dear @iron-flavored-lipgloss! It was such a pleasure for me to write this for you! Enjoy!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [EDIT]

gif by @tvandfilm

Patrick Bateman. What kind of a mess was this man? Chaotic, impulsive, pathetic? Or all of the above?

Smirking, you went to his office to deliver some documents you needed him to sign, but when you got there, you noticed that Jean — his lovely blonde assistant — was absent and the door to his office was suspiciously half open. It was strange, to say the least, but you just shrugged your shoulders and stood there for a while when you heard a loud thud coming through the door — the sound almost made you jump in surprise. 'What the hell?' You wondered as you approached the door, turning around to see if Jean was coming, but there was no sign of her. With measured steps you got closer to the hole in the open door and just peeked in out of curiosity, but the scene you saw was not what you expected — Bateman, all flushed and covered in sweat, was storming around his office, his hands desperately fumbling with his tie as if it was choking him.

Your reaction was quick, and you didn't even notice as you opened the door and stepped inside. "Bateman? Are you okay?"

The man stopped shaking the moment he heard your voice and leaned down on his desk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to get your signature on some of my docs when I heard you crying,” you grinned, watching his face go pale. "What's wrong, Bateman? Did you miss your facial?" The way he balled his hands made you laugh. "But really, did something happen?"

"Yes," Patrick replied, looking at you and running his hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean...no...nothing happened…" You saw his lips tremble a little each time he spoke. "Gimme the docs."

Frowning in confusion, you pulled out a napkin and handed it to him instead, meeting his scornful gaze. "You're sweating…” You placed the white piece of cloth on his desk, only now noticing a small jar that you were sure was full of pills. "Maybe I should ask Jean to bring you some coffee? You look really sick..."

"No!" Bateman suddenly blurted out, pointing his finger at you. "I asked Jean to take the day off..."

"Hey, hey, relax," you raised your hands defensively. "Relax, I was just trying to help."

Slowly, you placed the folder of documents on his wooden desk, which he grabbed almost immediately, and your hands touched for a brief moment, and Bateman didn't flinch, and neither did you. 

"Take a seat." Patrick muttered incoherently.

"What?"

"Sit," he repeated irritably. "And wait."

His tumultuous behavior actually frightened you, but you did as he said and sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘My God, he really is mental, Tim was right.’

"What are these pills? Some vitamins?" You tried to keep the conversation alive, not even knowing why, as you watched his long, thin fingers floating across the pages.

Your question made him stop and look up at you. "That's none of your business, (y/n). I asked you to sit and wait, not ask me stupid questions."

‘Why does he look so cute when he's so angry?’ The thought brought a smile to your face, but then you zipped up your mouth theatrically and Bateman's office went silent for a while. And you used it to admire his perfect jawline, even though his brown hair was messy now, it looked so inviting to touch anyway.

"Is that all?" Bateman asked suddenly, arching his eyebrows and interrupting your train of thought.

"Uh, what?"

A prominent line appeared on Patrick's forehead — a testament to his annoyance. "Are you deaf or something?"

"Lemme see them," you pointed at the documents. "I want to make sure you put your cute sign on every page." Your playful tone made the line between Patrick's eyebrows even more noticeable. "I don't want to come back here."

Bateman didn't even try to jab back, his face still pale and sweaty, his eyes nothing but dark voids — oh, how fucking empty they were. Sighing heavily, Patrick raised his gaze when he heard the chair creak as you got up and walked around his desk. The sudden cut in the distance between the two of you was something Patrick didn't seem to be ready for, as his hands nervously gripped the armrests, but you pretended not to notice.

"We all feel down sometimes," you murmured over his ear, literally sensing the tension radiating from his body. "And that's okay." Placing your hand on his broad shoulder, you leaned down to look at the documents, surreptitiously inhaling the scent of his perfume mixed with his sweat. ‘Fuck, what am I doing?’

"I didn't know you had a part-time job as a therapist," he grumbled, examining your palm, wondering if he was going to kill you here and now, or keep you in here forever. "Listen, I have a reservation at Barcadia..."

"Mmm, Barcadia? Really?"

Bateman nodded and finally removed your hand. "Yes, I'm having lunch with Coutrney." 

"I wonder what Luis thinks of these lunches with his fiancé." You picked up the folder and stepped back from his armchair. "You don't feel guilty about sleeping with Coutrney behind his back, do you?"

Gritting his perfectly white teeth, the brown-haired man abruptly got up from his desk and stormed toward you, surely intending to yell at you or say something rude, but the moment he stopped directly across from you and your eyes met, Bateman's expression suddenly became lost and confused. "Just stop," he finally managed to mutter. "Stop poking around in my fucking head…" As you noticed his pupils widening, things were no longer funny to you. "Understand?"

‘Well, maybe turning it into a joke is not a bad plan,’ you hummed and nodded. "Sure, Bateman," you sneered a little nervously. "I'm just reading this book Timothy gave me," you slowly turned and walked to the door. "The book about Human Psychology." That was surely a joke, but judging by the serious look Patrick gave you, he didn't seem to get it.

"Tim gave you... a book?" He repeated, frowning in confusion and disbelief.

When you opened the door, you paused for a second, wanting to say something smart at the end. "Oh yeah. Why don't you ask him about it? Maybe he can recommend some books about... human relationships or something." And with that, you smiled in satisfaction at seeing Bateman's face quiver with anger before you left his office, leaving him with a raging tempest in his chest.

Later that day, Patrick couldn't sleep because his mind was so full of different thoughts, but the only thing they had in common was that they were all connected to you. You, you, you. The sound of running water echoed off the marble walls of his lavish bathroom as Bateman stood in the shower, enjoying the way the strong streams of cold water hit his back. Huffing, Patrick desperately scrubbed his skin as if it would help him get rid of the thoughts of you that haunted him the day he first met you — you were so cheeky, so sweet, everyone loved you and wanted to hang out with you. How fucking cute. Patrick groaned as he felt a throb at the base of his hard cock, God, he felt like it was hard all the time and no sex could help him with that because all those people, they weren't you. 

"Argh, fuck," he groaned as he finally allowed himself to touch his twitching dick and give it a few strokes. 

"F-fuck..." Bateman pumped his length rhythmically, recoiling at the memories of today, the way you put your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on the back of his neck. And what would it feel like if you had placed your hand on his chest, or run it over his abdomen and then down? 

"Uh, a-ahhh," the man moaned louder, shaking uncontrollably from the orgasm building at the base of his spine. "(Y/n), your hands feel so good on me, oh-shit…" Patrick had to lean against the shower wall as his legs buckled from the intense waves of ecstasy as he cummed with your name on his trembling lips, the water still running down his sculpted body, washing his cum off, but he was still so hard. 

"Reading books on psychology," Bateman chuckled, tilting his head. "What an idiot." His nervous giggle bounced across the shower, but soon the laughter turned to a low wail. "Pathetic…” 

Time flowed like sand through your fingers, and you couldn't even remember how many days had passed since your visit to Bateman's office, but since then something had changed between the two of you, but you both couldn't understand what exactly had changed, or maybe you didn't want to try to understand. To be fair, it was so fucking annoying that when you found out that Tim, David, Craig and Patrick were going to the Tunnel, you saw it as your chance to dot the T's, no matter how the evening would end.

When you arrived at the club, it was so crowded that it took you a while to find the group of yuppies sitting on the plush couches next to the dance floor, jamming to the music and drinking their cocktails. 

As you approached, Craig was the first to spot you. "Woah, woah, look who it is!" His cheeky remark caused everyone to look at you, including Bateman, whose teeth were visibly clenched around his cigar at that moment. 

"Hey, guys! Enjoying the music I see?" You smiled, fixing your hair briefly from the sudden rush of panic.  ‘Damn it, stay calm! Why am I so nervous?’

Timothy winked at you and raised his glass. "Did you come alone or..." he stopped abruptly when he noticed someone behind your back. "Hey, is that Paul Allen?"

‘Shit, shit, shit. That was so much easier in my head than it is in reality.’ You chewed on your cheek, and while the men were guessing whether they really saw Paul Allen or not, a sudden idea came to your mind, but you hated it before you even started to bring it to life. "Do you have a gram?" You asked without thinking, hoping they would say no.

"I do," Bateman's voice came out of nowhere and you almost screamed in your head, but you had to keep your composure. "But you will owe me." As he said this, you came closer to where he was sitting with a playful smile on your face and took a seat next to him. "Wait, we are not going to do coke here."

"Hey, why not?" David chuckled and took out his business card holder. "What's wrong with it?

"Oh God, look at that cheeky bastard," Craig pressed a palm to his face. "Van Patten decided to be a bad boy today."

The men laughed and high-fived each other before Bateman whispered in your ear, making you almost jump. "Follow me." Those two simple words made you obey like you were under a spell. 

As the two of you made your way to the bathroom where people in the Tunnel usually did coke, your heart pounded to the heavy beat of the music, or even faster. Patrick went first, his elegant silhouette like a shining star in the midnight sky — so eye-catching and mesmerizing that it wasn't surprising that a lot of people turned around to look at him, but you didn't care as soon you would be alone with him. ‘Just you and me, Bateman.’

The bathroom was surprisingly empty today. The last time you were there, you had to wait almost half an hour to get into the free stall, but now luck seemed to be on your side. As you stepped into one, Patrick pulled out his business card holder and rolled the $100 bill; you did the same, watching as Bateman made lines of coke with his platinum AmEx card.

"I have to say, you look much better." You commented briefly.

The man was about to lean over to snort the white powder, but your words made him freeze. "Huh," he chuckled abruptly and brushed away a stray lock of hair. "I was just reading some books about... relationships," Patrick grimaced, drawing out the last word with a cocky grin. "It changed my mind." Before you could say anything, Patrick was snorting the coke, holding the rolled-up bill to his nostril while holding another down with his thumb.

"Very funny," you mumbled, tapping the rolled note against the inside of your palm. "Where was your wit when I walked into your office a week ago?"

Bateman coughed quietly and threw his head back for a moment to clean his nose. "What does this have to do with anything?"

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to his business card holder to inhale the white line of powder that had been left there, your mood was already off, and at some point you even began to regret coming to Tunnel tonight. Though it wasn't your first time doing coke, you felt so dizzy as the drug began to intoxicate your system that you almost fell to the floor if you hadn't bumped into Bateman's chest, leaving a white stain on the lapel of his Valentino suit.

"Hey! What the fuck!" Patrick blurted out, ready to push you off, but the way you grabbed his shoulders stirred something strange inside him, something he was fighting all the time. "Have you ever done coke?"

You coughed several times, blinked nervously, and only then did you let him go. "Sorry..." you gasped and leaned against the wall of the stall behind your back. "It's been a while."

"You stained my jacket."

"God! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No," Bateman replied, brushing off. "Not okay."

"What do you mean?" You asked confusedly, batting your eyelashes and breathing heavily.

Patrick dropped his head for a second before looking at you again, your faces dangerously close. "I'm not okay."

You licked your lips nervously. "Why?"

Instead of saying anything, the man pulled you against his massive frame, giving you no time to react as his hot mouth covered yours; it was difficult to call it a kiss, it was more like the act of claiming — his strong arms trapping you between the wall and his muscular body while yours hovered motionlessly like whips. When Bateman released you, he tugged at your lower lip and licked it with a wet, obscene sound. "Because...because of this."

Panting, you stood in shock for a moment before nodding and touching your wet lips. "Yes," you put both hands on his chest, exploring it slowly but boldly, causing him to close his eyes for a second. "I don't think I'm okay either." After whispering it in his ear, you slid your tongue down his bare neck, right over the mole, and when you heard him grunting, you lowered your hand to his belt, playing teasingly with the buckle.

"Lower," Bateman husked, and when you didn't listen, he grabbed your hand and lowered it himself — the outline of his fully erected cock eliciting a muffled moan to break out of your cramped throat. "Ahhh-fuck."

"God, you're so needy," you murmured against his neck, busy undoing his belt. "So touchy."

It only took a few seconds for you to undo his pants and let his taut dick pop out of his underwear. ‘Mmhhm, his cock is so perfect, just as I expected,’ you smiled to yourself, and in the next moment you were stroking his throbbing length, smearing his slick pre-cum around his swollen tip without any shame or fear of getting caught.

"(Y/n)," Patrick hissed as he pressed you against the wall with his weight, his hands sneaking down your back to grope your ass. "Be quiet," the man ordered when he heard your soft moans. "Keep quiet and undo this." Bateman pointed to your bottom and just the thought of what he was about to do to you almost made you cum.

"Why?" You gave him a foxy grin and tightened your grip on his dick, forcing Patrick to hold his breath.

"Just...just do what I say..."

"Okay, honey."

"Don't call me that!" He uttered and squeezed your ass painfully, your bodies grinding against each other, making you hot and sweaty.

"Patrick..." You attempted to kiss him, but he turned away.

In one swift motion, the man reached your neck and aggressively nipped at the throbbing artery. "Shut up! Just shut up and undo this fucking..."

You didn't let him finish his tantrum as you caught his lips with yours, increasing the tempo of the jacking, and you could feel he was so damn close. But since he was so insistent, you undid the lower part of your garment, and everything that happened next was like one of your recent dreams. Bateman, flushed and panting, crouched down, his cock slipping out of your grasp, but the next second his fierce mouth found its way between your legs as he began to suck on your sensitive flesh with sheer greed and passion, not forgetting to pump his dick and growl softly against your skin.

"Ohh, Pat-Patrick," you gasped, tugging at his brown hair, dishevelling it, but neither of you cared. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop..."

"Mmm-fuck, you taste so sweet," Patrick pressed his face closer to your core, his free hand nailing you to the wall to hold you in place. "You're shaking like a fucking whore."

Chucking, you yanked at his hair a little harder. "And you're devouring me like a starved man, are you starved, Bateman? How long have you been... so fucking s-starved?" You hiccupped as he redoubled his efforts, lapping at your crotch and jerking himself off. "F-fuck, I'm... I'm gonna..."

The loud footsteps made you both stop in your tracks, and when you heard people coming into the bathroom, you stalled completely, only to quickly fix your clothes and then pretend nothing had happened as you left the stall. Later, as you were washing your hands, Patrick stood behind you and you met his eyes in the mirror. "Are you leaving or..." You asked briefly as he handed you your twisted bill.

"Yeah," Bateman straightened his jacket and wiped his mouth with a paper towel before opening the door. "You better forget about it. Believe me."

‘And now I feel like I need a memory reboot.’

Chapter 2 is here! 💗✌

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[demonpiratehuntress]

I am actually so mad. I was working on this and for some reason it didn't save correctly and ended up posting a blank draft while deleting the stuff I had already written! I'm so sorry it took so long, @tiaramarijadhkxdyi755, but here it is! i hope this is close to what you wanted, because i wasn't sure how to go about it 🙈

taglist - @kabloswrld

patience with the Straw Hats

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - mean/careless/neglectful Straw Hats, im sorry, i changed Luffy's and Usopp's because I don't imagine them ever screaming at or getting angry with their s/o 💕

ZORO

Zoro has a short fuse, and that's common knowledge. Everyone knows just how grumpy and aggressive he can be after a hard fight or a difficult day training. He's snapped at everyone more than once, but you seem to take the brunt of it since you're the closest to him, and today was no different.

"For fucks sake just leave me alone!" Zoro could be heard yelling at you all throughout the Sunny. "You're too damn clingy and I don't need your help right now!" He stormed off.

You stood there in shock, having just asked him if he was okay, and taken aback by the response you had gotten. It wasn't unusual for him to be angry, but he was really upset today for some reason. You decided to give him space, but you had to admit you weren't really hurt or upset. More so disappointed that he had once again pushed you away.

"Zoro-"

"What?!" He snapped, glaring at you as you came up into the crow's nest with some food. "I'm not hungry, just leave."

"But-" You started, until he did something unexpected.

He smacked the food out of your hands, sending it all over your face. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back a bit, stunned.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you apologised, giving him a soft smile, "I'll have food in the room once you're ready to eat."

You waited a long time until Zoro finally entered your shared room, looking embarrassed and guilty about his outbursts today. He didn't say anything as he crossed the room and sat down beside you, but when he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips you knew he was apologising.

"It's okay," you smiled gently, "I'm not upset. Just disappointed that you won't let me help you."

"I know I know," he admitted. "I'll work on it, I promise."

"What made you so angry anyway?" You squeezed his hand.

He sighed, "You almost got hurt in our last fight because I was distracted. It's been haunting me, and I just don't want it to happen again. I snapped because I wanted to train harder instead of resting or eating, so I can properly protect you."

You smiled at him again, "But you always do, that was not your fault babe."

He was so grateful to have such a patient, understanding and loving girlfriend.

SANJI

Sanji usually never snapped at or yelled at you. He didn't ever want to, and never had any reason to. He was sweet, loving and doting just like you were, but unlike you he did have his days where he went against his promise to never lash out at you or hurt you in any way. Today was one of those days. Usopp had pulled him away from some girls who were fawning over him, and he was irritated.

"Why did you do that?" He glared at the sniper. "I was having fun."

"You also have a girlfriend," Usopp reminded him, gesturing towards you. He was nervous now, because Sanji looked pissed off.

"So?" The cook scowled. "I can appreciate and talk to other women without cheating on her!" He spoke like you weren't right next to him. "Right, (Name)?"

"Right," you smiled, a bit disappointed but not showing it.

Then he was off, returning to those women to apologise and your crew turned to you, looking at you quizzically. Nami set her hand on your arm reassuringly.

"It's okay," you told them with a smile, "It doesn't bother me."

Sanji then returned, but was quick to notice the disappointed look you had on your face. He was about to ask but you shook your head and kissed his cheek, continuing your exploration of the island.

"Okay what's your problem?" He suddenly asked, annoyed, when you looked disappointed at another interaction between him and a pretty woman.

Your eyes widened, "I'm not-"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not stupid, (Name). You're obviously hiding the fact that you want to control my every move and stop me from ever talking to other women again."

That claim was so preposterous, you frowned, "I wouldn't-"

He quickly realised what he had said and his eyes widened, "No no no, my love I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said, I-I-" He fumbled for an excuse but sighed when he didn't have any. "I'm sorry, my love. Let me make it up to you, with your favourite dinner."

"Deal."

LUFFY

In all honesty, I don't see Luffy getting angry with or yelling at you. I think he's more of the neglectful type, when faced with certain situations like facing Boa Hancock out on the sea. She claimed she didn't know you guys would be there, but you're pretty sure she was stalking his movements. Luffy wouldn't listen though.

"It's okay, (Name)!" He replied cheerily when you voiced your concerns, "Hammock's really nice! And she has yummy food!"

And then he was off, leaving you to shake your head and sigh. You retired to your shared room, hoping that Luffy would eventually realise her intentions and come back.

He never did, and after a few hours you were starting to get lonely. So you ventured out to find him, only to see him giving her a tour of the Sunny.

"Luffy!" You called, but frowned when he seemingly ignored you as Hancock said something to him.

That was pretty much how the day went. You were ignored entirely by your boyfriend, simply because Hancock wouldn't let him pay attention to you. But you were disappointed in him too, for not telling her that you were dating and for not coming to spend time with you on his own.

When the day ended and Hancock retreated to her ship, bidding Luffy goodbye, the captain finally made his way to you. You weren't upset or sad, but Luffy could see on your face that you weren't feeling anything good.

"Are you alright, (Name)?" He questioned, hugging you.

"I'm disappointed, Luffy," you told him, but hugged him back and smiled anyway, happy to have him back.

"Disappointed?" He frowned. "Why?"

You sighed, "You didn't make any effort to come and see me for even a few minutes today. You spent the whole day with her. I'm not upset, because she helped you a lot, but I am disappointed that you ignored me."

He hugged you even tighter, "I'm sorry, (Name), really. We can spend the whole day together tomorrow!"

You smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that's what you guys did everyday when Boa wasn't around.

USOPP

Usopp is another Straw Hat that I don't see getting angry or yelling easily. He's very patient with you, and he's understanding. He also doesn't have any aggravating circumstances, but the one thing he can be that disappoints you sometimes is careless. He can be very careless when it comes to what he says or does, because he usually acts on emotion.

And today, it seemed, he was missing his old crush Kaya. Because while you were shopping for clothes on one store, seeking to replace your torn and burnt ones, he kept yapping on about how Kaya had this and Kaya had that, and that hers were all real and genuine.

"I'm sorry I'm not Kaya, or as rich as her," you politely reminded him, not upset but starting to feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay!" He smiled, ignoring the subtle hint for him to stop talking about her. "I love you anyway!"

"Love you too," you smiled, but in your disappointment it didn't quite reach your eyes like it usually did. Still, you persevered, hoping he would stop by the next shop.

He did not.

"Kaya had something like this," he looked at the dress you were holding up, "But much prettier."

You frowned, again disappointed that he didn't like it. And that he had once again compared it to someone in his past that should be staying in said past.

Usopp noticed your expression, and his smile faltered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you smiled, shaking your head, "It's just not my style."

His eyes widened, "Woah, (Name), I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Usopp," you kissed his cheek, "Let's go, I think we're done."

"No we're not," he took the dress, "This will look so much nicer on you than Kaya."

You opened your mouth to say something, but giggled when he refused to let you and bought it for you, dragging you back to the Sunny so you could show him just how much prettier you were than Kaya.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst II

Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Child!Reader

Summary: You say a bad word

"Whoa, whoa," Leah says helplessly as your screaming body is placed into her arms," What-? Jordan, what's going on?"

Jordan sighs as she gently wipes the tears from your red face. "She's a little sad today-"

"Mummy!" You whine, reaching for her. You try to flop back out of Leah's arms to get to her and it's only because of Leah's quick readjustment that you don't go falling to the floor. "Mummy, no!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan says and, to her credit, she does look incredibly apologetic," But you know it's Mum's turn to have you this week."

You just sob harder.

"No," You cry," Mummy, no! Please!"

"I'm sorry, bug," Jordan repeats, crowding close enough to give you a tight hug in the hope of calming you down," But you know that it's Mum's week now. You were so excited to get your minutes in a few days ago."

You just keep crying though, trying to claw your way out of Leah's arms and cling to Jordan.

"Go, Jordan," Leah says with a sigh," I'll take her inside. I'll calm her down."

Jordan looks torn but nods. "She didn't want to leave Blu. I took him to the vets last night for a checkup. He stayed over there so she hasn't seen him since. She's been a little bit sad."

"A little bit?" Leah scoffs as you wail right in her ear before hitting her shoulder. "Hey, no, bug. What have I said about hitting? It's rude."

You hit her again.

"Bug," She says in warning.

"Hey," Jordan says softly," As soon as I get back, I'll pick up Blu and send your Mum a picture but you've got to stop crying, okay?"

You sniffle. "Promise?"

"I promise."

You nod and angrily wipe away your tears. Your bottom lip still trembles but you relax in Leah's arms, head on her shoulder as your hand reaches out to play with the necklace she's wearing.

Leah hopes that you'll be happier now that Jordan's promised pictures of Blu but you're still a little sad and depressed during bath time and bedtime.

You didn't even enjoy your bedtime story like you usually do and it carries on the next day when you don't cross the day off on the calendar.

You're usually so excited to cross a day off because it means you're closer to match day and match day means you get your minutes in at the very end.

Leah doesn't know what else to do. She's shown you the picture of Blu Jordan sent. She put you in your comfy clothes and your favourite Arsenal jersey but you still remain sad.

Very briefly, Leah considers going to the shelter and getting you a puppy but realises that she's got training and there's not enough hours in the day to do both so she picks you up and gets you into the car.

Leah's pretty sure it unnerves everyone how quiet you are. Even the newer signings like Fox and Codi seem to notice something's wrong.

Katie's the one who makes the first move.

You're sitting in Leah's cubby, just swinging your legs aimlessly when Katie pokes you in the cheek.

The disgruntled look on your face is funny so she pokes you again.

"Come on," She cajoles," What's wrong? I don't get a hug this morning?"

"No."

"Why not? I might die without my hugs, you know."

You give her a blank stare. "Then die."

"Bug!" Leah snaps sharply and you duck your head sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum. Sorry, Katie."

Leah turns back to what she's doing and Katie pokes you again.

"Stop it!" You snap but Katie does it again," Fuck off, Katie!"

Someone gasps, probably Alessia, but all you're focussed on is your Mum. Leah whips around to face you. She looks angry, looking down at you with pursed lips.

"That's a bad word, bug!" She tells you," It's a naughty word! Who taught it to you?"

You shrug.

"Bug, you've already been naughty today. Don't lie to me. Who taught it to you?"

You feel the urge to cry again, your throat going all tight and closed up and you know pretending you don't know what Mum is talking about will get you in a lot of trouble.

You mumble your response.

"Speak louder, bug," Leah says," So I can hear you."

"Rachel said it to Mummy a few days ago when they were wrestling," You reply," Didn't know it was a bad word! It got Mummy to stop!"

Leah sighs, running a hand over her mouth as she looks at you. The rest of the locker room has gone silent, just watching how she's going to tackle this situation.

"Some words," Leah says," Are naughty words. That's one of them. I don't want to hear you say it again, bug."

You frown. "Rachel said it."

"Rachel's an adult."

"And adults say bad words?"

"Only when they're being naughty." Leah really doesn't want to be having a conversation like this but she has to admit that thinking it through has perked you up a little bit.

"Adults get in trouble for saying bad words too?" You check and Leah nods. You point right at Beth. "She said fuck last week."

"Bug, stop repeating it!"

"And so did Emily and Lessi. Lessi taught it to Vic, who taught it to Codi. Everyone says it, Mum!"

"Well-" Leah looks around.

"And they didn't get in trouble!"

"They're getting in trouble now!" Leah declares," We'll make a swear jar. If you swear, you put money in the jar. Is that good enough for you, bug?"

You think for a moment, looking around the room where Kyra is giggling. "Kyra called the plug a motherfucker when she stepped on it last week."

"That was meant to be a secret!" Kyra exclaims.

"Alright." Leah massages her temples. "From now on, this is a no swear zone. If you swear then you put money in the jar."

"Hey, come on!" Katie complains," Sort your kid's potty mouth out at home! Don't make all of us suffer through this shite."

"That's a quid in the swear jar, McCabe," Leah says, turning and picking you up," And no Bug Hugs for a week."

"No, Bug Hugs?!" Katie shrieks," I'll die without them."

Leah winks at you. "Then die."

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: Miscommunication

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: G

pairing: Alastor x Reader

Summary: Alastor and reader have been dancing around each other for quite sometime, but reader doesn’t believe that Alastor could care for her.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

“What are we?” you ask standing in the room, trying to look at anything but him. The silence after the question felt suffocating, like it was choking you but not physically. Like the silence had nestled into your airways and started to bring them crashing upon each other in a supernova right in your chest. Your hands shake as you brush off your shirt, trying anything then to actually look at the man in front of you. If you did you’d know the answer you thought would be there. You’d see his disgust, and hatred and you couldn’t bare that. Not when he’s handled you so gently, smiled at you so gently, not when you’ve sought him out in crowded rooms. You could feel your tears in your eyes as you willed yourself not to cry, not yet.

“You know what we are. You just want me to say it.” Alastor’s voice carried across the room and you stiffened, his voice lacking the radio effect for the first time. Tears began to fall, as it was confirmed to you.

“I-I-“ you take in a shuddering breath and start again. “Can you please say it? Out loud? I need to hear you say it, so I can move on.” Tears stream down your face as you hit your lip to stop from sobbing. ‘Damn you heart for feeling so much’, you thought to yourself. You don’t hear Alastor make his way toward you, but suddenly his hand gently cups your chin and guides it to look at him. His eyes widen in shock and it makes you angry. He knew how you felt, he knew that he didn’t feel the same way, and he has the nerve to look shocked?

You rip away and put distance between you both, your breath ragged, not able to stop the sobs as they came and your brain too foggy to try and pull yourself together.

“DON’T!” You yell at him and his eyes widen further. You shrink into yourself after this outburst, all fight leaving you. “Please, stop toying with me Alastor. I understand that you get your kicks off shit like this but just be real with me and tell me you don’t see me… see me like I see you. So then, I can let you go.” You whisper, your arms wrapping around your body like you were trying to hold yourself together.

“Mon Coeur, oh, cher…” Alastor trailed off and approached slowly, raising his hand to your cheek, watching every movement of yours for even an ounce of discomfort. “I am…” Alastor pauses and takes a deep breath, readying himself to say a phrase he never thought he’d utter to anyone, “So sorry.” He whispers.

“I don’t want you to let me go, darling.” He murmurs. Your head whips up, eyes wide.

“What?” you managed to croak out. Alastor looks at you and a soft smile falls on his face.

“You are someone who is very dear to me. Someone who I think I can learn to love.” Alastor murmurs, bending down to you. “If you’ll allow me to.” His eyes meet yours, as you search through trying to find something other than earnestness and what could only be described as love in his eyes.

“You may.” the whisper of your consent weaving between you two, like vows. Your hand reaches up to his face as he leans down slowly, his eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips. He moves so slowly giving you the chance to move away, and you stay still, giving him the opportunity to change his mind. That idea was thrown out when you felt your lips touch his, as your other hand reaches up and anchors yourself on his neck. A little whine coming from you as you feel his body meld against you. You both break away feeling like it was too soon and you nod.

“It’ll be hard to get rid of me you know?” You ask, fixing Alastor’s collar.

“Hmmmm, not as hard as it will be to get rid of me, cher.” Alastor smiles and you laugh as you pull him into your arms and feel him stiffen at first and then relax against you, pulling you closer and resting his head on top of yours. He starts gently humming, both of you basking in each other’s company and for the first time you were grateful you were so emotional.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[yourstrqly]

✰ HELPING HANDS, LANDOSCAR

[ preview ] in which fem!reader is helping out oscar's puppy love on his teammate lando without realising the consequences

[ tw ] mostly landoscar, swear words, smut (+18) - threesome, dom!osc, switch!lando, pussy eating, missionary position, daddy +sir kink, praise kink, raw sex (use condoms, stay safe 'n clean), aftercare

. previous | minors do not read | masterlist .

you indeed landed in their cushy bed, just the imagination didn't match reality; in the men's eyes all of you wore too many layers of clothes (you did look hot in the retro styled mclaren shirt of lando and a pair of panties tho), slightly ruining their last resort of getting this off the table or rather in the sheets.

so unlike you, you didn't began to feel fuzzy, you just relaxed in the covers, watching in utter childlike fascination how katara from the last airbender challenged a clan master to duel right in front of a sea of strangers. "d'you reckon she'll win, little one?", lando wanted to break the case, trying to hold his cool, while quite literally hiding (and grinding) his bulge behind his partner's back as he had starred a bit too long on your plump round ass. in a world full of men and woman, he was just a man lusting after osc and you.

he couldn't help himself from growing hard — your ass poked underneath the white shirt, showing off your thick tights, he'd love to feel around his head, and those smoothly looking legs would make a suitable cage for oscar's waist, while he hovered over you, fucking you to an orgasm.

imagine, imagine.

the brit didn't know how oscar wasn't as horny as he was whilst having the front view of your body.

you groaned. "nah, yeah, I don't know but nonetheless it's a girl boss move and 'm here for it. now please shut up, lan", you begged, flitting your eyes towards his face shortly to catch him already openly glazing at you.

above all laws of relationship, lando broke the wall as his lips moved faster than his brain, declaring that she should make him shut up, tone low and suggestive, causing the room and time to freeze it seemed. "treasure", his lover gasped, eyebrows knitted as he cracked his knuckles nervously, quite shooked about the outburst.

laughing weirdly, you search for oscar's reaction, an angry gaze or unimpressed rolling of his eyes but you saw an empty face, no emotion for you read and understand. "what did you say?", the question sounded aggressive coming from you. "have you got no shame, norris?" fastly standing up your feet, you peer at osc for the second time. "I— I'll leave you alone, sorry, i—"

"there's nothing to be sorry about, sweets", the younger man instantly replied and then turned his head sideways to his partner with a grim look. "you on the other hand should be apologise to her. now, off you go." he made a hush hush gesture towards his somehow yet secret crush, observing the interaction; as lan crawled forward in your direction, you meekly held onto the small table, which presented books none of them read by the dusty looks of it and a bulky candle holder. you didn't dare to take a breath, even when lando kneeled under your nose, his fingers closing around your naked legs, and just looked up, desperate for your attention, to serve you in a way?

"is it okay for him to carry on, sweets?", oscar asked, having moved down the bed to manspread his gorgeous tights whilst you were lost in this, whatever happened. "take a breather, yeah? that's a good girl."

lando, still down for you, bat his long eyelashes at you. "please, little one, i'd do anything for you." "course you do, you're a greedy man, treasure. give him the permission to eat your kitten, hm?"

your mind must play you tricks.

"I don't understand", you finally reached your words. "you're together, i— we're friends." a nervous cough stuck in your throat. "i'm not sure this is the correct direction . ."

"ah ah ah sweets, no need to lie to yourself — this, this hasn't been a friendship for us for a while now, no?", he looked at lando's curly hair crown that shimmered under the bad lightning, getting a tiny whimmer out of the lover. "we want to add you, the feelings are there. just let us show you first and later in the morning we can do all the talking. my man is hungry for you, cant you see?"

you observe lando; his lips were already plump but now they were raw bitten and swollen, as was his length that drew though the thin material of his shorts and bend more to the left. the grip you had on the dresser grew stronger as you nod shyly, wetness polling inside your panties which lando pulled to the side, letting his tongue flicker up your slit to your clit, sucking on it harshly. moaning, a hand of yours sank in his hair, wanting him to lick you faster — you gasped, head lulling to your left shoulder and your back arched when he slowly inserted a finger, then another and third, fingering you. lando's hot tongue worked you up, circling around your throbbing clit. then a much larger hand joins yours, interlocking in the man's hair and there was the chin growth of lan, scratching your inner tights and making them shake, all while oscar smacked his lips onto yours, dragging his free hand behind your head to hold you in place, groaning as he felt a tear escaped the corner of your eye, gliding down his thumb.

"you're doing so well, sweets", he mumbled between kisses. "cum for us."

time almost seems to come to an halt as both men feel your body goes stiff, clenching around lan's fingers, pools of fire seeping low in your abdomen, steering you right off the edge whilst continuing to pump his fingers rapidly in and out of you, till you hooked your arms 'round the aussies strong neck to support you upwards.

when you opened your eyelids, gaze hazy and lustfilled, lando grinned devilish, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist, and he didn't move, no, he rather pressed his face back home, nose spitting the folds, too addicted to your scent and taste — if it wasn't for the small jumps, a reminder of how tense you were, oscar would've locked his lover's greedy mouth on you for forever. but this wasn't it; he wanted more. adoration and excitement graced on his heated cheeks, "hop on the bed, sweets, i think you're ready f'me", he declared, voice sunken an octave deeper, letting you know that he had enjoyed the display very much. "can't have lan have all the fun tonight."

he shoves you gently on the bed, spreading your naked glory; tears had stained your cheeks, both pairs of lips coated in wetness and fluttering in anticipation of what he had in store — oscar threw a look above his shoulder at lando, who had taken your place, big hand engulfing his hard swollen dick.

granted, osc's heavier toned body lifted itself above yours, leaking tip rubbing over your cunt until he just sank in your soft, warm walls and he swore that he found another paradise; his muscles flex repeatedly as he fucked inside, thoughts swarming but not making any sense anymore because this was it — euphoria ran though his body like a wildfire and he couldn't stop sinking his dick all the way into your helpless, squeezing cunt.

in the middle of grovelling moans and desperate cries, it was lando who spoke up, falling next to you on the bed to pinch and twist your nipples. "how does it feel, daddy?"

"so good, so tight, sir", he brummed, interlacing his fingers with those on your tits to guide them south your body were a slight bulge was showcased. "she takes me like a good girl should, isn't that true, sweets?" too which you hummed in agreement. both pairs of eyes stare at you, waiting for the approaching orgasm to crush you and leave you in bliss only sex could gift. "yes, she does, looks beautiful taking you." and with that lan pressed his hand down where his lover's cock locked up inside, coaxing another mess out of you, your voice singing high and the vision got blurry. "s' good daddy", you screamed, pussy still tightening around his length, making it impossible to move. he cursed as you milked him so hard he came inside. you pant and heaved; his thrusts got lazy and eventually stopped, pulling out off you to lay besides you as he watched the brit tugging his fist up his cock, taking in his position to ram himself in your abused cunt to dump his cum.

"little one, you're a star", he harshly gritted though bitten teeth before his bodyweight relaxed on yours, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips. "now, cuddle me, osc will clean you up", lando smiled as he pulled out, watching the mixed white cum tickled out of you.

POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS

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