#particularly given some things that came up this week

[targaryenluvs]

BOOTS / TIM BRADFORD & LUCY CHEN

PAIRINGS: Dark!Tim Bradford & Dark!Lucy Chen x Fem!Rookie!Reader

SUMMARY: You never noticed just how dedicated your two best friends were to keeping you safe, and theirs.

WARNINGS: Overprotectiveness, fighting/violence jealousy, flirting, forced relationship, suggestive behaviour (makeouts, sub r, dom!Tim & soft dom!Lucy, fingering, handcuffs, p in v, threeway)

WORD COUNT: 5.2K Words

A/N: Dark!Chenford is a must have 🤭I had to turn to my roots for some smut cause who wouldn’t want to be in between these two?? I may have gotten carried away at 5k words 😭 (for the sake of this pretend pto’s can have two rookies) NOT PROOFREAD special order for my girl @lady-ashfade

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

They always had your back, which you found comfort in.

Whether it be standing up for you, or tearing in a new one to the woman who got your order wrong after you’d already given a smile and taken what was served. (It may or may not have been Tim yelling whilst Lucy fiddled with her nails.)

You were so close to them, since your day one on the job Lucy had been nothing but a sweetheart. Fixing your hair for you, ordering your food for you or just giving you a smile when your day was particularly gruelling. She, along with Nolan and West were your best friends. But Lucy went above and beyond when it came to you, even if you didn’t notice at times.

And Tim, was a special case. Of course at first all Rookies got the roughest side of him. But overtime Tim noticed the little things about you. And at first he figured it was you trying your hardest to kiss up to your T.O and everyone else. But he soon came to realise that you were naturally this nice. Always helping anyone where you could when they asked, even with out ask at times.

But that was the problem.

Tim found you to be in need of him, someone to properly guide you rather than your idiot of a T.O who couldn’t care less about you. You were nice, too nice for your own good. He could help in that department.

You entered the break room in the mood for about a million cups of coffee. As you reached for a cup another Rookie cut in front of you before grabbing the pot. You took a step back allowing him to fill his cup up, he was probably tired and lacking manners, so you let him continue. But if there was one person who wouldn’t?

“Hey, you cut in front of her. Pass your cup over to her and move to the back of the line.” Tim startled the Rookie in question so much that he spilled it all over himself. He’d been here for about two days in a trial week. Lucy had a feeling he wouldn’t be here much longer.

You, being you, jumped straight in to help the ass, “Here’s a napkin, you should go change. Maybe take a shower and see a doctor if there are any burns okay?” He nodded before rushing out the door, but not before shoving a cup into your hands.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened, you put the cup down, ready to reprimand the two but when you turned around you realised you couldn’t exactly reprimand two officers above you.

“Thanks for standing up for me but—,”

“No problem sweetheart, how’s your paperwork going?” Tim asked as he poured a cup for himself and his girlfriend. You always noticed him doing stuff like that for her so she didn’t have to, as if it was second nature for him. But he also did the same for you, not that you noticed. “Uhm… it’s going well.” You tried to continue on but the two of them interrupted you every time.

You sighed in defeat as you stirred in sugar, Tim and Lucy sat on either side of you, personal space be damned. You hadn’t realised how often Tim and Lucy used nicknames with you, or sat close to you, or defended you.

Was this normal?

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” Lucy smiled at you as your cheeks flushed, “I— uhm,” You heard Tim’s laughter from your right, “You’ve got her blushing Chen.” Your head snapped his way before shaking your head, “No! It’s just, warm.” You fiddled with the cuff of your long sleeve as Tim and Lucy admired.

You were so adorable, always with a smile on your face. You could never handle it when they flirted with you, and they took every chance they could get to see you go red. They loved to do it, and they did it so often that you’d basically become accustomed to it. That didn’t mean it was easier to handle with two gorgeous people, especially when they’re older and in charge.

Tim loved talking to you. Just hearing your voice was enough to bring a rare smile to his face. When you were truly impassioned in a topic he could tell, so could she. You’d sit up straighter in your seat, your hand movements increased and so did your eye contact.

But with him and Lucy? You never could keep eye contact. Again, adorable aren’t you?

But what Lucy hated was when you were interrupted. It’d been a few minutes of you talking at them about a call of yours from the day before, in which your T.O had made you answer a call on your own whilst on the phone with his wife. You never noticed, but Lucy’s firsts curled up, and Tim’s hand rested on his gun.

The anger that surged through their bodies at your T.O’s irresponsible behaviour was unmatched. How dare he send someone so fragile on their own? Did he understand how special you were?

Tim’s hand moved from his gun to his radio as you continued. You’d ended up in an altercation with two armed suspects, but you’d managed to subdue them both by bursting a nearby pipe which then sprayed the pair. By the time you had both cuffed to a dumpster your T.O, Jim, waltzed in and smiled.

“And then he just, smiled. He told me he was surprised I could get the job done and that maybe I did deserve my short sleeves. It seemed so targeted and sexist. As if he couldn’t believe that a woman could handle herself. But he apologised later.” Tims brow rose as Lucy titled her head, “He apologised to you?”

Your head turned to Lucy as you crinkled your nose, “Well, not outright. But he did pay for our lunch and ordered me extra. He let me drive too. That’s his way of saying thanks.” Someone was going to have to hold Tim back from beating the life out of this dickhead.

First, he leaves you alone against two armed suspects to see what’s for dinner, then, after you did an amazing job on your own, he underestimates you.

With the worst timing in the world, in walks Jim, “Ah there you are boot. Finished the work have you? Good girl.” You and Lucy visibly cringed at his words as Tim had had enough, “The hell did you just call her?” Your T.O frowned as Tim stood in front of him menacingly, hand on his holster.

“None of your business, she’s my boot.” Jim turned back to his coffee as Tim inhaled, “Leave the room you two.” Jim scoffed as you both got up, “Yes, let the men speak huh?” Lucy rolled her eyes as she guided you out, she and Tim shared a moment and a look that screamed ‘Fuck him up.��� Jim smiled before reaching for the creamer, but it was snatched up by Tim.

“You think you’re funny? Being a sexist dick to your Rookie?” Tim prayed that Jim would try something, anything. As long as it allowed him to beat him into the floor. “Again Timmy, she’s my rookie. That’s the whole point of us Trainers, to toughen them up. You don’t question my methods and I won’t yours. Pretty little thing like that’s probably glided through here.” Tim grabbed him by the shoulder before pushing him against the wall.

“Testy are we? You and Chen have a thing for her?”

“Don’t fucking call me that. And I’ll question whatever I want, when I want. And don’t talk about them like that.” The mention of you and Lucy was more than enough to set him off, and he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself.

Lucy ushered you into her Tim’s shop as you kept asking her questions, “Why am I in here?” Lucy sighed as she rested her hands on her belt, “I don’t exactly think you’ll be riding with him today. Best if you ride with us, I’ll go alert Grey to whats happening, just stay safe in here.” And just like that, she was leaving for the door.

“Messing with me is one thing, with her? Bad idea.” Tim shoved him against the wall again before whispering into his ear.

Tim, Lucy, you and Jim all stood in Grey’s office.

He stood with his hands on his belt, trying to process what he’d been told. “Sergeant, Officer Bradford attacked me in the break room when all I did was simply address my rookie.” Tim and Lucy’s faces simultaneously contorted in disgust at his accentuation on ‘my’.

“Save it Jim. I heard what actually happened through Officer Bradfords radio. Officer Bradford, you’re not yet excused for inciting violence with a fellow officer. Your overtime is cancelled for over a month, you’ll be having a reprimand as well as a month of anger management training courtesy of the department. The rest of your punishment will be applied later. Officer Chen, Officer L/N, you may both go.”

Lucy and you smiled and acknowledged him before glancing at Tim, ‘I’ll be fine.’ he mouthed at the two of you. The door closed behind you as you looked back into the office to see Greys hands waving around. He was pissed and so was Tim. He had to stand next to this guy.

“Hey are you okay Y/n/n?” The two of you were currently filling out paperwork together to kill time whilst you waited for Tim, you glanced back up at her with a smile, “Yeah I’m fine, just glad Bradford stood up for me. But I feel bad now, he’s in there with Grey whilst I’m here.” Lucy’s hand covered yours as she offered her comfort.

“Baby none of this is your fault, Jim is a moron and stuck in the 70’s. You’re an amazing cop and you’ll be even better as the years pass and you learn. But you’ll learn a lot more from another T.O than him. And T— Officer Bradford,” she corrected herself, “He stuck up for you because you don’t deserve to be disrespected like that. No one will ever say those things, we promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, never having someone who cared about you so much that they’d hurt someone else.

Hypothetically of course. Right?

Tim came back grumpy, which wasn’t a new thing. But he couldn’t help but feel something at the view he has. You and Lucy, shoulder to shoulder, giggling away. At his desk nonetheless. You really were meant for them.

“Alright, you’re sticking with us for the next few weeks L/N. Until you’re reassigned to a new T.O.” Tim stood in front of you as you glanced to him, “What’s happening to Jim?” Tim scoffed as he turned to the side before shaking his head and staring at his shoes, “What he deserves. He’s out of here, don’t worry about him. Not while we’re here.” Lucy nodded in agreement as she picked up your paperwork and hers, “We’re done here.”

“Good, get to our gear, boots.”

And for the next few weeks you found yourself closer to Lucy and Tim than ever. In the physical sense being you and them in the same car for every shift. In the mental and emotional sense of having more time together, on calls together, eating together at times and clocking out together. Usually to go to one of their apartments to wind down and have dinner. So close to them to the point where you found yourself in the middle of them.

The tension was thick, whenever you three were alone.

Lucy and Tim were undeniably hot, and you knew that. And so did they. The two of them were absolute menaces when it came to teasing you. Whether it be Tim or Lucy, both or alone. They wanted you all for themselves, and they will have you.

You prided yourself on making a mean cup of coffee.

Before joining the force, coffee was a once in a whole situation but since? It’s your saving grace and addiction. Your body would probably stop functioning without. Another thing you couldn’t survive without would be music. It’s why you stood in the breakroom with your airpods in.

“Boo.” You jumped at the whisper in your ear only to bump right into your new T.O. “Tim!” You jolted as he laughed at your reaction, “You should be more aware of your surroundings L/N.” Taking a napkin you quickly cleaned the mess on the table before putting a lid on your coffee. “Sorry Sir, I’ll pay more attention.”

His lips involuntarily twitched at the notion of you calling him ‘sir’. It was usually Officer Bradford or when you were pissed off, Bradford. Not much of a change but for you it was the equivalent of flipping him the bird. Tim found it cute.

“You’re good.” He spoke before leaning behind you to grab a cup of his own. Your breath hitched as you felt his broad chest pressed against your back. As he poured his cup, he glanced at you, “You okay there Boot?” Your eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere that wasn’t at him. “Fine, I’ll be in the— somewhere.”

He leaned against the table as you shuffled out of the room as quick as possible. God you were cute.

Lucy leaned against the doorway with a smile, “You’re gonna have her malfunctioning at this point Bradford.” Tim grinned as she approached him, taking a sip of his coffee, “Then maybe we can fix her Chen.” He whispered before taking a sip of his own.

“And how would we do that?”

“Might need to lay her down, undress—,”

“Tim!” Lucy yelped as she covered his mouth as a muffled “What?” came out. “You can’t stay stuff like that here!” He rolled his eyes before peeling the palm of her hand away from his mouth. “Did you not talk for about twenty minutes about how badly you wanted to kiss—,” For the second time Lucy shut him up.

“Shh!”

It had been a long shift for all three of you.

You’d barely gotten time to catch your breath with how many calls were coming through. There was a concert on in town and apparently that resulted in all hell breaking loose. Merch trucks had been highjacked, fake tickets and scams everywhere resulting in fights.

Tim didn’t personally understand the reason for all the chaos, “It’s like your favourite team coming to play in L.A and there are also a bunch of fake fans wanting to go. Along with scammers waiting to make money. People go crazy over the things they love Tim.”

He knew that, he had you.

“Yeah but actual sports? That I understand. Some singer who’s going to walk around a stage? Boring.” You and Lucy rolled your eyes as you gave up on explaining it to him. You were currently out at dinner for once, suggested by Lucy.

“I like it better when we stay home.” Tim muttered as he surveyed the restaurants terrace. There were currently three other couples surrounding them. “Me too honestly.” Lucy was surprised by your agreement as Tim was overjoyed, “See? Two against one.” Lucy shrugged before returning to the drinks menu, “We need to get out once in a while.”

We. Not you and I, we. It was those word choices that made you wonder, did they consider you apart of their relationship?

Lucy’s hand rested over Tim’s as the waiter approached, “My names Jack and I’ll be serving you tonight. What will you be having miss?” He waited for you whilst you sorted through the menu, “I’m going to go very simple, can I get the chicken fettuccine and garlic bread?”

He quickly jotted your order down with a smile, “Great choice.” You smiled at the praise, “Thanks Jack.” His smile was wide and sweet as his gaze lingered, a sharp cough caused the two of you to break away.

Tim’s hold on the menu was tight, shaping crescent indents into the leather exterior as he watched the waiter, Jake was it? Who cares, he should stop eyeing you up and do his job. But why were you responding to him? Keeping eye contact and laughing.

His cough caused you to finally stop ogling him as Tim barked his order at him, whilst Lucy hid her laugh behind the menu. She hated how this random guy thought he could come up to her girl and charm her. Maybe if she showed her gun off he would—

“And drinks?” Tim scanned over the variety of wines as you got up, “I’m going to head to the restroom.” Tim and Lucy nodded as you placed your purse on the table, “Uhh, where is it?” Jack smiled, “I’ll take you there.” He tucked the menus under his arm, “Lead the way!”

Lucy’s hold on Tim’s hand was deadly as the two of them stared daggers into Jacks head. Who did this guy think he was? “Why the hell is she still taking to him? What happened to the restroom?” Lucy complained as Tim straightened in his chair. “I don’t know, but we have to let her know it’s not allowed.”

And that came in the form of coming back to the table to find your food packaged for take away.

You crossed your arms as you stopped in front of your chair, “First of all, I love those bathrooms. Second, how the hell is the food here so quickly? And third, why is it for takeaway?” Tim abruptly stood as his chair slid back, bumping into the railing, his hand in Lucy’s whilst she grabbed the bag.

“We’re leaving, now.” His voice was stern and Lucy’s face seemed to be void of the smile from moments ago. “Wait what?” Tim’s hand wrapped around your wrist as he led you into the elevator.

“Why are we leaving? Also, I can walk myself, no offence.” His grip on you only tightened as you winced, you quickly contracted your wrist from his hand. Soothing it by running your hands over it, the pain was low but the mark sure as hell would show soon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eyebrows furrowed slightly, you pulled your lips into a line, “Nothing Lucy. What’re you two doing? Are you okay?”

“Do you find it fun? Flirting in front of us?” Tim sounded genuinely angry, which was never a good sign. The elevator opened as you followed the two of them, eventually ending up with one behind and in front. Tim silently opened the back door for you, climbing in to turn towards him you were met with a slamming door.

Flirting? They were angry because you flirted? Do they expect you to never talk to anyone that wasn’t them? Yes the waiter was cute, but you only talked him about the Marvel Captain America necklace he had on. If they were angry, then did this mean you were in a relationship?

You turned to view the two of them behind the car, they were plotting intently. As Tim’s hands drew her closer in, and his lips landed on hers you couldn’t help but watch and have no idea who you wanted to be in the scenario. When Tim’s eyes flicked up, you turned to the front of the car. This was going to be an awkward ride home.

You were right, the ride home was dead silent.

Tim’s hand was interlaced with Lucy’s, right infront of you and you couldn’t help but feel as if they were rubbing their relationship in your face. So instead of sitting in the middle as per usual, you shifted over to the window. At least the night was nice.

Lucy couldn’t help but smile as she noticed your jealousy. Tim was right, this showed just how much you wanted to be with them. When they kissed you couldn’t look away until looked at, and their holding hands pissed you off to the point where you switched seats. When you were with them, you were always in the middle.

When you reached Tim’s place you were the first to get out of the car, not bothering to wait for the couple. “You think we went too far?” Lucy asked Tim, as much as she loved riling you up, she felt sad by your annoyance. She wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold you.

Tim on the other hand, was pissed off beyond relief. He had to refrain from beating the shit out of the waiter and kissing you at the restaurant. But he figured, your first time should be special.

“No, we haven’t. She needs to learn.”

As you entered his apartment you couldn’t deny the fact that it did indeed feel like home. You shook your heels off in the doorway, as Lucy and Tim removed their shoes. They’d told you to dress nicely but they were both dressed normally. You being in a dress felt out of place when they weren’t done up like you were for the night.

Tim’s bed was practically calling your name, “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was stern and unwavering. You internally groaned, what the hell had you done wrong? “To bed, what else Tim?” You rolled your eyes, bad idea.

He pushed you against the wall, towering over you. “You think you’re funny?” He was overwhelming, his cologne lingered and Lucy watched on amused. Was she rubbing her legs—

“Don’t look at her, look at me. Answer the question.” His hands were placed on either side of your head, “No, I don’t think I’m funny. I’m sorry.” Tim narrowed his eyes as you squirmed under his gaze, “Sorry for what baby?” You stared down at your feet before he grabbed your chin, “For flirting.”

“So you know what you did wrong?” You nodded meekly at Lucy’s question. “You know, a Rookie has to be taught lessons right?” You nodded again, “And whose Rookie are you?” The bottom of your dress was smooth between your fingertips as you nervously fidgeted.

“Yours.”

“I’m sorry but you have to be taught baby.” His hand slowly moved up your thigh, and under your dress. Tim never looked away from you, even as his hand grazed over your panties. Your breath hitched as his hand slipped past the elastic band, “Tim!” You moaned out as you held onto his shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Use your words baby.” Lucy spoke as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. She moved your hair away, allowing herself free roam of your neck as she surged forwards. “Please.”

“Let’s take you to the bed huh?” You nodded vehemently at Tim’s suggestion as he picked you up bridal style. He laid you down on the bed as you shuffled back. Tim and Lucy stood side by side, the grins never leaving their faces. “What do you think Lucy? How’d you feel when Y/n was talking to Jack?”

At the mention of his name your heart began to race, you were nervous, why were they talking about him?

“Angry, and jealous. You?”

Tim nodded, “I did too. I think we should teach you a lesson. And if you’re good then, maybe, we’ll let you go.” You swallowed air before nodding. “Words baby.” Lucy’s voice was soft as she came to sit behind you, laying your head in her lap. “Y-yes.”

“If you feel uncomfortable then say so.” She whispered into your ear as you nodded. “You’re so cute, you know that right?” You shook your head, “No, you’re just being sweet.” Lucy frowned at your low confidence, “You are. Okay? Never let anyone tell you any different. You’re so gorgeous, and kind and sweet. I love you.” Lucy smiled as your wide eyes looked up at her, full of love.

“I— I love you too.” She closed the distance between the two of you quickly, you’d been wanting to kiss her for so long. Her hands trailed along the neckline of your dress, cold hands brushing over your chest as you gasped, allowing her to slip her tongue in.

“Having fun without me?” Tim joked as Lucy withdrew, “Maybe, why? Jealous?” She teased as he shook his head, “That’s her job.” Tim alluded to you as you rolled your eyes, “Is not.” Lucy chuckled at your words.

“Keep rolling your eyes and I’ll give you a reason to.” Tim’s hands were on your thighs again, following the same route as last time and ending up in the same place. You turned your head, trying to bury your face into Lucy’s thighs as Tim removed your underwear. He trailed his hand up and down, collecting your slick.

“So wet, you know how long we’ve wanted to see this?” Tim’s lips met yours as he pushed a finger in, causing you to groan. “There we go, let it out for me.” You wrapped your arms around Tim’s neck, trying to pull him closer. Lucy’s hands slowly removed her own top, then her jeans.

You tugged at Tim’s shirt as he laughed, “Want me to take it off?” Your eager nod was more than enough for him to slide his finger out of you, but not before Lucy took it into her mouth.

You were going to explode. Lucy stared into Tim’s eyes as she detatached from his finger with a ‘pop’. Lucy worked on his belt buckle as Tim removed his shirt before chucking it behind him. “Take your dress off.” You did not need to be told twice.

As you lifted your dress you were met with helping hands, their eyes raked over you eagerly. Tim leaned in again, and as you closed your eyes you heard something.

Click!

Fucking handcuffs. “Wait— are you kidding me?” You tugged at the handcuffs as Tim spoke, “You didn’t think we forgot did you?” You rolled your eyes, “I was being good.” You muttered. Tim was not a fan.

He smushed your face in his hands, “You’re being a brat, now sit and watch.” Tim kissed Lucy’s neck as she raked her hands through his hair, “Oh god.” He made his way down to her chest as she laid down onto the bed. Tim unhooked her bra as he took one of her tits into his mouth. You wanted nothing more than to touch.

But you were forced to sit and listen.

Even as he pounded into her and you writhed against the cuffs. “You feel so good.” Tim groaned, his fingertips were digging into her hips as she clutched onto the sheets. “Fuck Lucy.” He muttered between clenched teeth, trying his best not to moan out.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together for the smallest ounce of relief. But Tim never made it easy for you. He slid out of her pussy, as she whined, “So close.” Tim stroked her cheek, “I know baby, I know.” He lifted her up easily with one arm, making her face you before laying her down. “Y/n’s gonna watch.” Lucy lifted her back from the bed as she felt herself peak.

“F-fuck Tim!” She shouted as Tim fastened his pace, “You feel so good.” He groaned before releasing into her. He slowly pulled out, letting Lucy catch her breath as she laid down on the pillows. “You okay?” He muttered as he kissed her cheek, she nodded. “Wanna see you and her.”

Your eyes glistened with excitement, “Please, take the cuffs off.” Tim was feeling nice, so he reached for the key and unlocked you. You first soothed your wrist before Tim dragged you by your ankles.

“Open your legs.” You slowly opened them for him. His hands immediately found your waist, mimicking circles along them. He never strayed too close, only trailing up and down, “Please Tim.”You wanted to cry. “Please what?” He responded calmly.

Tim loved seeing you like this, a whiny mess for him. The tears welled up in your eyes as you clenched them shut, allowing a few to fall down. “Use your words sweetie, just like I taught you.” You shook your head in embarrassment, you didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt, dirty. His calm demeanour was gone in an instant as his finger slipped back into you, “Please touch me.”

Lucy couldn’t help to admire you, they finally had you.

“There we go.” He praised as he moved swiftly up your slit; gathering your slick to spread around your clit. "Yeah, there's my girl, you feel good?” Your high pitched moan was more than enough of an indication, “S-so good Tim.” As if his fingers weren’t enough, he pumped his cock a few times before teasing your hole.

You arched off the bed as soon as he pushed himself in, fat tip bullying its way into you whilst your nails dug into Lucy’s arm, “I got you baby.” She spoke as her hand came up to your breast, teasing it before bringing it into her mouth. “Oh fuck!” You screeched as you felt her tongue drag along your nipple.

Tim eased himself out, and back in as his hand trailed up to your neck, squeezing it as your hand held onto his wrist, “You like that huh?” You nodded in agreement, tears were flowing freely from the overstimulation. This was literally straight out of dream. He grinned at you when your eyes rolled back, encouraging, "Go for it, feels good baby. You feel so good.” Lucy captured your lips as you groaned into her mouth.

The pressure was so intense, you kept writhing on the bed. “I-I’m so close Tim.” He took it as a personal mission to make you cum, grabbing one of your legs and angling it up, his hand in the crevice behind your leg. With the new angle he was able to meet new parts, your babbles were incoherent as he laughed, “Fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” He taunted you as he thrusted his cock in between your drenched folds.

Lucy’s hand trailed down, a sticky mess waiting in between her legs, seeing Tim manhandle you was more than enough. “Bet you dreamed of this, of me.” Tim continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls.“Yes! Yes! Harder!” you cried out.

“Baby found her words huh?”

You nodded as you steadied yourself by holding onto his biceps, Tim was nothing but fit. You’d always wanted to see him under the uniform, his large arms always looked incredible in short sleeves. Tim’s hand moved from your neck to your clit as he sent you over the edge, following closely. Your hand reached up to caress his neck. Thank yous spilled out from you.

You laid in the middle of Tim and Lucy, fast asleep as they watched on.

“She’s so sweet and peaceful when she’s sleeping.” Lucy cooed as she stroked your cheek lovingly, “She tired herself out, of course she’s gonna sleep well afterwards.” Tim’s hand was on your hip under the sheets, caressing the soft skin absentmindedly. “She did so well.”

“She did, knew she could take it.”

“So what are we?” Lucy waited for Tim’s response.

“Whatever we want to be.”

[awearywritersworld]

gratitude

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo wakes up early one morning, suddenly aware that he can't live without you. w/c: .5k tags/warnings: fluff. gn!reader. a/n: happy jjk day!!! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

gojo satoru is something of a stranger to gratitude, but can anyone really blame him? he was born with unmatched strength, unaccustomed to the blood, sweat, and tears many people shed to gain even a fraction of the power he possesses.

he's the son of one of the wealthiest clans in japan, so he's never gone to bed hungry, nor has he ever had to wear a pair of shoes that were past their prime. he's also blessed with good looks, always flaunting the kind of smile that makes people turn their heads.

now, that's not to say he's never felt thankful in his life. quite the contrary. he was thankful when nanami returned to jujutsu tech and when yuuji came back to life even after sukuna ripped out his heart. hell, he was thankful for the kid at the bakery who served him a particularly exquisite lemon loaf last week.

but he's never felt true gratitude. you know, the kind you experience when you're given something you can't possibly live without. the kind that moves you, shakes you to the core.

that is, until he's laying in bed beside you, already awake as the sun begins to kiss the morning sky. his eyes trail over your face in the pale blue light of dawn, taking great pains to commit every little detail to memory.

it's then that he feels it, gratitude that seeps into his bones and fills him with relief, hope, and elation all at once. gratitude that changes him as a person, because how could he exist without you? without the soft curve of your nose, without the fullness of your lips, without those cute little snores that let him know you're still sleeping peacefully?

you're laying on your stomach, your back exposed and the sheet bunched around your waist. he traces each divot of your spine with a careful and loving touch, acutely aware that there isn't a thing in the world that could possibly compare to the feeling of your skin against his own.

"'toru? what're you doing awake?" you ask groggily, pulling him from his thoughts.

"hmph.. can't sleep 'cause you're such a blanket hog."

"yeah? are you sure you're not just staring at me again, all googly eyed and creepy?" you pop one eye open to discern the look on his face.

"i've got no idea what you're talking about," he asserts, pulling you against his chest in an attempt to obscure his guilty grin.

you've already seen it though. "i think you're delusional or something, you should get some more sleep."

you feel his chest shift, a breath of a laugh passing his nose. "yeah, you're probably right."

you hum, satisfied with his answer, then tangle your legs with his and close your eyes. "i love you."

gojo has taken a lot of things for granted in his life, he's smart enough to know that, but those three words? from your lips? he'll be grateful for them until the end of time.

"i love you, too."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[cutielando]

conflict of interest | l.n.

synopsis: requested by anon: i recently saw a lando fanfic where the reader was a famous football player’s daughter and she was besties with maguis ex bf (joao another football player) but the story line was that she’d gone to a gp lando grew an interest in her but she rejected/dissed him because of the rumors of him and magui and i was wondering is you could do something like that!

warnings!!: a little hate towards magui (i have nothing against her and her relationship with lando in any way !!!! but it was necessary for the story to be spicier), jerk!joao (for like a split second)

my masterlist

You didn’t know what you were expecting when you got invited to attend a Formula 1 race weekend.

You knew nothing about the sport or how it worked, the only thing discussed in your household being football and your father’s career. Day in and day out, the only thing that surrounded you was football.

Even though your father had always said that he didn’t want to pressure you into liking or practicing football, he secretly wanted you to follow in his footsteps.

Imagine his internal disappointment he felt when you told him you wanted to become a model. He, of course, supported you and helped you in every way that he could have ever thought of, instead shifting his entire focus regarding football on your best friend, João. 

You and João have known each other ever since you were little children, growing up in the same neighborhood and given that he had always looked up to your father and his career. Growing up, whenever you would hang out with João at your house, him and your father never missed out on the opportunity for some early-on training and strategy talks.

That didn’t stop even when João actually became a football player. Your father and him sometimes talked more than you guys did, if you were being honest.

But you understood the shared passion that made their connection so deep.

Even with your modeling, you were keen on following your best friend’s games, always finding time and watching it wherever you were around the world. But that was not the only sport that you followed.

Formula 1 had become your guilty pleasure ever since you did a photoshoot with Charles Leclerc for a jewelry brand in Monaco. You became very good friends with him and his girlfriend, Alexandra, whom you talked to regularly.

To nobody’s surprise, a couple of weeks after the photoshoot was published, you received a formal invitation from Ferrari to the race weekend at Silverstone. The most exciting thing in your life, by far, was getting the opportunity to experience the true feeling of the race weekend from the garages.

Figuring you shouldn’t go alone, you took João with you. 

“Why do you want me to come, again?” he asked while on the place, not particularly excited to attend an event in which he didn’t really have interest in or knowledge of.

“Because you love me and I didn’t want to go to the UK by myself” you had replied, which was enough for the footballer.

After you had checked into the hotel and made your way to the track for the qualifying session of the weekend, you were amazed by the multitude of people screaming all around the paddock and reporters taking dozens of pictures of you and João.

An interviewer motioned you over for a quick interview, prompting you to halt your walk towards the garage.

“Y/N, such a nice surprise seeing you here. Not really the kind of sport we’re used to seeing you attend, is it?” the woman asked, making you smile and laugh

“I suppose not, haha. I’ve been a huge F1 fan for a while now but my schedule has made it impossible for me to attend an actual race up until now” you explained, making the woman nod.

“And who are you the guest of today?” she continued.

“Ferrari. I did a photoshoot with Charles in Monaco a couple of weeks back and we because friends, so I’m guessing he talked the Ferrari team into inviting little old me to Silverstone”

“We saw you came with João Felix, is he your partner? What can you tell us?” 

You laughed, hearing João snort from behind you.

“No, far from it. We’re best friends, we’ve known each other since we were little kids, but there is nothing else going on between us”

You answered a couple more questions before deciding it was getting late and you would miss qualifying if you spent anymore time with the woman.

João and you made small talk as you walked towards the garage, seeing Charles talking to a guy in papaya.

“Hi Charles” you greeted him once you were within earshot, the Monégasque immediately hugging you and João.

“Y/N, João, I’m so glad you could make it. This is Lando, he drives for McLaren. Lando, this is Y/N, a model and very good friend and João Felix” Charles introduced you, making you smile at the curly haired man.

Making eye contact with Lando had been one of the most intense feeling you had experienced in a long time. The intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes moved over your body had your senses tingling.

“It’s very nice to meet you” he said, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

You almost blushed, but a scoff from your right made you snap out of your happy bubble. João was glaring daggers into Lando’s head, which made you furrow your eyebrows as you looked at him.

He shook his head and mouthed later, making you nod.

“Well, we have to get in the cars, but I hope you have a great time” Charles said, saluting you two before departing with Lando, who smiled and winked at you as he walked back to his garage.

“No” João demanded once he saw the way your eyes were following Lando as he disappeared into his garage, giving you one last look before he was out of sight.

“I didn’t do anything” you defended yourself, scoffing once you saw the distaste with which João was looking at you. “What the hell is your problem? You don’t even know the guy and you’re acting like he killed someone”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t have to know what he’s like to know that he’s an idiot. Do you not read the news?” he asked, at which you shook your head. 

You didn’t really have the time nor the desire to read tabloids, knowing what kind of articles they tend to write.

“You know I don’t believe in anything the media writes” you explained, rolling your eyes.

“Well, I believe what videos say. And he’s been seen with Magui” your eyes widened at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

The mere thought of Magui being in a relationship with anyone made you sick to your stomach, especially after what happened with João.

“Oh” was all you could say, and the conversation ended there.

You couldn’t lie and say that the new information didn’t disappoint you. Wanting to see it with your own eyes, you decided to look it up on the internet and, fair enough, there were videos and pictures of Lando and Magui driving around Monaco.

While driving around didn’t really mean anything, you felt it like a punch to your gut. Every single time you would become slightly interested in someone, something had to come in between.

Shaking the thoughts from your head and deciding you would not speak to Lando for the remainder of the weekend, you enjoyed qualifying to the most, the feeling of watching firsthand what was happening was unlike any football game you had ever attended.

It was something special.

After you had arrived back at the hotel and were left alone once João decided to hit the city, you decided on having a quiet night in with some room service and a movie. Settling into the comfy bed, you had barely put on the movie when you heard your phone go off.

Looking at the notification, your heart starts racing when you see it was a text from Lando.

lando

hi there

is this y/n?

y/n

yes?

how did you get my number?

lando

charles gave it to me😅

y/n

hahhaa lol

did you need something?

lando

yes, actually

i think we both felt something earlier today

when we were introduced

and i was wondering if you wanted to go out?

y/n

ummm

hahaha

i don't think that's a good idea

lando

why not?

did i misread the situation completely?

i tend to do that sometimes

y/n

you didn't misread anything

i felt something as well

but i don't think your girlfriend would agree to you asking me out

or even talking to me right now

lando

girlfriend?

i don't know who you're talking about, i'm not dating anyone

y/n

lando

let's not pretend people don't follow the news

you've found magui, and i wish you both happiness if you're together, but given what happened with her and joao, who's my best friend, i don't even think we should be speaking right now

lando

woah, woah, woah

slow your horses

i don't know what news you've been reading

but i'm not dating magui

she's simply a friend, we have the same friend group but that's it

i know about the situation with joao and i would never associate myself with someone like that

does joao think i'm with her?

y/n

yeah

he's the one who told me to be careful

cause he saw the photos and video and shit

lando

i can assure you

i'm not dating her and i don't have the intention to date her

y/n

i don't know

lando

please, just think about it for some time

you don't have to give me an answer right now

y/n

okay

i'll think about it and let you know

lando

thank you, thank you, thank you

Throwing your phone on the bed as far away as possible, you let your mind wonder. Was Lando telling the truth? Was he really not dating Magui?

João had seemed so sure that they were together, so sure that she had just moved on to the next celeb and sure that Lando had just fallen for it. That’s why he had been so hostile towards him and so against you even talking to him.

But you couldn’t deny the butterflies that you felt when you talked to him just now, how excited the mere thought of being with made you. You couldn’t ignore it, and frankly, you didn’t want to ignore the feeling.

You hadn’t realized how long you had been stuck in your own thoughts, not until you heard the hotel room door open and João stepped into the room.

“What were you thinking about? You were lost in thought” he said, shrugging off his jacket and falling backwards on the bed beside you.

“You’re gonna hate me if I tell you” you said, playing with your fingers.

He raised his head at that, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Hate you? I could never hate you, no matter what you would do” 

You sighed, knowing he was right. There was no way he would ever hate you, he physically couldn’t think badly of you.

But this would test that idea pretty well.

“I talked to Lando tonight” you said, not even looking at him but knowing how he was glaring at you.

“I told you to stay away from him and her” the venom dripping from his tone at the thought of Lando and Magui didn’t go unnoticed.

“Look, I know what she did to you was unforgivable, and I hate her for how much she hurt you. You know that. But I talked to Lando, and they’re not dating. She’s just a friend he has in common with the people close to him, he would never date her because of what she did to you” you explained, trying to diffuse the situation.

João sighed, shaking his head. He turned to look at you, seeing the look on your face; a look he knew all too well.

He knew he had no right telling you who you should or shouldn’t talk to. He didn’t like it when you did it to him, he had no right doing it to you. But he had just been so angry at Magui for what he had done to him, time and time again after he had forgiven her, and he lost it when he saw the man in front of him.

However, looking at you in that moment, he knew you needed this. And he didn’t want to be the one depriving you of that.

“Okay” was the only thing he said, making your head shoot up and your eyes widen.

“Okay? What does that mean, okay?” you asked cautiously.

“If you want to go out with him, you can go out with him. I have nothing against it” he said, which prompted you to squeal and jump on him to hug him, chanting thank yous in his ear. “But, if he does anything to hurt you, I’m not afraid to fight him” it made you laugh.

Without wasting a single moment, you picked up your phone again and sent Lando a message, smiling giddily.

so, about that date?

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[pocketramblr]

Please!

AU where both Izuku and Bakugou are rejected from UA Hero Course.

And to make it juicy. The reason for the rejections is the suicide baiting incident being known by UA. While Bakugou is rejected for obvious reasons. Izuku is rejected for his ‘own safety’ and because they won’t trust his psyche went unscathed.

1- The thing about Bakugou is that he was not particularly well liked by his classmates at Aldera. Oh, he had friends, and no one was willing to stand up to him, but plenty of students had grudges about how he acted. They rolled their eyes when Bakugou went on a rant about being the only one who could make it to UA, or his lackeys hyped him up, but then they'd look away without a word when he caught them and glared. No one was going to say he wasn't powerful and couldn't do it, just like they weren't going to say Deku had any chance. Sometimes, capable people are also very annoying, and you just have to deal with that, so the kids did. And if a few were in a small group chat that would sneak pictures or videos to show the kids not in their class and complain, well, that's what the kids did. And then one day, one filmed the conversation after school, after Bakugou threw out the notebook, and posted it publicly, as well as in the chat.

2- nothing came of this. Izuku had either blocked or been blocked by a lot of his classmates online, and hadn't really bothered to look for most of them anyway, so neither he nor Bakugou are aware of the video. The sludge villain sort of happened an hour later, and that's what got the big media buzz- the news couldn't publish the names of the teens involved if they ever even had them, but locally, people at Aldera knew who the kids on tv were.

3- the next year, UA has its recommendation exams. Every student is meticulously background checked before even being accepted as an potential for the exam and interview. A couple weeks later, they have the standard exam. The background checks will happen after this- UA after all has a very prestigious image. Bakugou wasn't wrong that if he took his lackey's cigarette and UA found out, his chances would be gone. Unfortunately for him, the video was still online. Mostly forgotten about... Until it contained not one but two potential UA students.

4- Nedzu and the six hero course homeroom teachers are on the board of student admissions, but so are two others each from administration, public relations, the school board, and the heroics commission. The top fifty scorers are ruthlessly picked through. The video is watched. Some want to exclude Izuku, some Bakugou, some both. Nedzu would prefer to have them both enrolled in separate classes, but is outvoted. He doesn't warn the board this will mean All Might will not be staying on to teach - he really can't, without telling secrets, but he does warn All Might the next night, and gracefully accepts his resignation.

5- a week after the exams, acceptance and rejection letters are sent. These are simply written on paper. Apparently neither of them are a good fit for the school. No further reason is given. Bakugou spends one day in his room, quieter than ever, then rush applies to other schools. Shiketsu is supposed to be UA's equal. Perhaps their admissions process will be less rigid. Or perhaps his rise to number one is "supposed" to come from humble starts, and Aldera Middle School wasn't that, but some mid rank hero school is. Meanwhile, on the beach, All Might tells Izuku that he actually ended up with the most rescue points in the exam, and his score was high enough to place him in top ten... It was just the screenings afterwards that did it. Perhaps the school was concerned about his health, with him breaking nearly every limb. Or perhaps his incorrect quirk registration was a red flag- either way, it's things All Might blames himself for, Izuku is the one who passed the test, and with only a few hours of having OfA too. So All Might asks Izuku what he wants to do- try for another hero school nearby? Toshinori probably can't get a job there on short notice without being suspicious, but he'll work to train him every day after, and come up with some other excuse for why he's in the field less. Or, should he reach out to I-island? Toshinori's even willing to see about setting up a personal internship with himself or Gran Torino, though he really kinda hopes Izuku doesn't pick that one. Izuku bursts into tears and apologies, having only held them back this long out of shame, they hug, and Toshi tells Izuku to take his time deciding, it'll be all right, because Izuku is here and he has full faith in him, regardless of what UA admissions thinks.

[sinner-as-saint]

I'm insane, but I'm your baby

Dark!Bucky x Reader (age gap au) 

Run-through: You broke things off with Bucky shortly after you realised that he was quickly becoming overly emotionally reliant on you. And you were not ready for that kind of commitment. Besides, when you and Bucky first got together, the rule was no emotional bond at all. It was all just transactional, exciting, and fun. But then he changed. And you didn’t realise just how much you meant to him… until he showed you. 

Themes: ex-sugarbaby!bucky, dark!bucky, obsessive!bucky, sugarmommy!reader, mild MDLB (nicknames only), possessive!bucky, switch!bucky, smut, brief somno, bondage, praise kink, reader gets referred to as “mommy” a lot, dub con, manipulation, age gap (Bucky is in his twenties, Reader is in her late thirties), gun play, mentions of stalking and violence

a/n: warning – dark fic, pls read the themes carefully and do not consume media that makes you uncomfortable.

You knew he was already in your house the moment you walked in. 

Firstly because that was his car outside, parked near the driveway fountain. Secondly, because he’d been doing this for a whole week now. Ever since the two of you broke up, he’d show up at your house whenever he wanted. 

He still had copies of the keys you’d given him. And he acted like a brat each time you asked for the keys back. What if I left something and I desperately needed it? He’d argue. You were a busy woman, head of and handling family businesses and some of your new ones as well so you rarely had enough time to argue over keys with a young man who refused to act his age. 

Part of his bratty behaviour was your fault, you knew that. He was already spoiled when you met him – typical rich boy who rebelled against his rich parents whenever he wanted. But then when he met you, he became a total brat. You spoiled him even more than his family did – cars, trips, jewellery, a penthouse in whatever city he wanted, everything he’d asked for, you gave it to him. 

In return, he was at your beck and call. He often joked about how you trained him like a loyal puppy. You laughed, because it was true. Whenever you called, he came running to you. 

Your ‘relationship’ was perfect in the beginning. It was fun, and an amazing way for you to unwind and get away from the hectic work life. But then, Bucky got clingy. Emotionally clingy. And you tried to talk to him about it, but he would just act up and refuse to listen. Or, most of the time he’d just distract you with his amazing body. 

So you went with the flow for a couple of more months, before about a week ago you sat him down and broke things off. Of course it wasn’t easy. Bucky was especially bratty about it and was having none of it. But eventually stormed out of your house. 

He was back the very next day, begging and pleading for you to take him back. You asked him to leave. Then he was back the following day, same old story. Then the day after that, he’d let himself into your house while you were still at home. You’d asked him to leave. 

And he’d been repeating this bullshit for a whole week now. You were tired. Your days at work weren’t particularly easy. You had a huge staff to manage, meetings to attend, everything rested on your shoulders. All you wanted was some quiet time when you got home but no. A certain blue eyed young man, previously your sugarbaby, wouldn’t leave you alone. 

You sighed as you walked further into your house. Dropping your keys and shoes in the foyer as you walked towards the kitchen. And there he was. 

Wearing nothing but dark grey sweatpants. Smooth, tatted skin exposed. With his bare, muscular back to you, cooking something like he was completely at home in your space. Well, he did live here with you for the last few months. 

You watched him for a moment as he moved with ease in your kitchen. Fuck, why did he have to be so irresistible? Especially in this kitchen, where you’d fucked countless of times… 

“What are you doing?” You asked, once you were done eye-fucking him. 

Bucky turned to look at you with a sly grin on his face. He lowered the flame, wiped his hands on a nearby tea towel and made his way over to you. 

You couldn’t even push him away as he held you in his muscular arms. You could feel the dampness on his skin, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Surely he even used your gym as well. 

He nuzzled your cheek, “Hi mommy,” He whispered, “How was your day?” He kissed along your cheek, then down your neck. So slowly you felt yourself slipping under his spell again. 

But then you recovered and carefully stepped out of his embrace. Ignoring the hurt on his pretty face at you pulling away, you asked again, “What are you doing, Bucky?” 

“Making you dinner.” He answered, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist again, “Your favourite pasta.” He smiled down at you, then leaned in to kiss your nose. “Want some wine while you wait for it to be done?” 

You sighed, pulling away again. “Bucky, I don’t like having to kick you out all the time.” You stated, looking him right in those puppy dog, ocean blue eyes. “But enough is enough. Give me my keys and please,” You tried not to sound too harsh, “Please leave. You and I, we’re done. I can’t… I can’t give you what you want, and we agreed on that. So please, leave.” 

He was quiet. So were you. It was tense, heavy, emotional silence. You were tired of always breaking his heart like this. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

“But I thought…” He crossed his arms, his muscles looking even bigger this way. “Did you never love, or care about me?” His tone suddenly softened. 

You sighed for probably the tenth time. “Bucky, this again?” 

He gave you the innocent, puppy dog eyes again. “I just… I thought we had something, mommy.” He whispered, sounding like a lost puppy, “Didn’t we?” He inched closer, his body heat wrapping around you. “Didn’t we, mommy?” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t you remember how good we were together?” 

You almost gave in again… almost. “Get out.” You said. 

He pulled away, surprised and frowning at the coldness in your calm tone. “Wha… what?” 

You almost felt bad. “You heard me. Get out.” You repeated. “Don’t make me call security.” 

He reluctantly left. 

You heard the purring of his car engine gradually fade, and the alarms signalled that the gates were shut again. 

You went to the stove and turned it off, the food already ruined. You cursed under your breath because you knew this wasn’t the last time. Bucky could be adamant when he wanted something. 

Or someone. 

— 

Much to your surprise, he didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after that. And just when you thought he was finally out of your life… you dreamt of him one day. Even in your dreams he was not ready to let you be. 

You dreamt of him in your room, in your bed. His soft hair brushing against your face as he kissed all over your jaw and neck… nibbling on your skin. 

He chuckled when you let out a sigh of pleasure. “I know, mommy.” He kissed along your exposed neck. “I know you didn’t mean it when you said we were done the other day,” He whispered, brushing his lips against yours, “See? Even in your sleep your body still wants me.” He sounded pleased. Mischievous. 

“So beautiful… and all mine.” You felt his phantom hands brushing against your thighs… like he always did whenever he woke up in the same bed as you. 

He always took full advantage of the fact that you slept in the nude. And you lived for those moments, those slow mornings filled with endless kisses and caresses and cuddles, and him being brat and not wanting you to leave the bed, or him. You dreamt of his lips kissing down your neck, down your chest, down your torso… 

He chuckled again, his boyish laughter echoing in your head. “You’re all wet for me, mommy.” He noted. He was right. You could feel it. Dreams always heightened every sense so you were fully aware of the wetness in between your thighs. 

He kissed your hips, whispering, “Your baby boy is hungry, mommy…” He kissed right above your clit, warm breath making your body come alive even in dreams. He always had a talent of making your body sing whenever he touched you. 

Then his warm tongue licked along your slit, his hands spreading your things apart to give him better access. Your hand moved lazily, fingers ready to slide into his hair… even in your dreamy fantasies you assumed his hair would be silky soft… but you couldn’t quite move your arm. 

That was the equivalent of warning bells ringing. You opened your eyes, no longer dreaming, and gasped in surprise as you not only found Bucky in between your legs but your hands were tied to the headboard. With one of his expensive ties. 

“Bucky…” His name sounded more like a soft moan as he shamelessly tasted you, eating you out passionately, giving you his all. 

At the sound of his name, he looked up. Held your stare as he lazily circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, then said, “Morning, mommy. How did you sleep?” 

“What…” You sounded breathless as his finger slowly slid inside you, stroking that spot inside you that he knew all too well. Fuck, this was sweet torture… “What are you doing?” 

He chuckled, finger-fucking you lazily. “Waking you up, of course.” He frowned playfully. “What does it look like I’m doing? Hmm?” He pressed another kiss to your throbbing clit before he nuzzled the space between your hips, “How dare you keep this away from me, huh? How dare you keep yourself away from me, mommy?” 

You were too overwhelmed to speak. Hands tied above your head, his finger and tongue in between your legs… each time you opened your mouth to speak, only moans escaped. No coherent sentences. 

“Bucky!” You cried out when he made you come the first time. He just chuckled and showed no sign of stopping. He added another finger and kept stroking that spot inside you, his tongue kept teasing your clit until you came a second time. “Bucky, please…” You begged. 

He looked up this time, smiling like a devilish, blue-eyed, young god. “Yeah, mommy?” 

“Please just… untie me.” You whispered, breathlessly. 

He chuckled, in that boyish way of his. “No? Cause then you’ll just pull away from me.” He reasoned. “I like you like this, all nice and open for me.” He said, “I really missed this, I didn’t even touch myself because… because that’s your job, isn’t it?” He rambled, fingers still slow fucking you. “You can’t just kick me out and stop caring for me just cause you feel like it, mommy.” He frowned, in a way you’d always found both bratty and adorable. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see I need you?” 

You sighed and whined as he made you come once more before removing his fingers from you. 

“Did you hear me?” He asked, kissing his way up your body, “Your baby boy needs you, mommy.” He whispered as he nuzzled your neck. 

You had no choice but to play along, ignoring the way your body, traitor that it was, craved him still. “Baby,” You whispered, “I need you to untie me, okay?” 

“No.” He said in that bratty voice of his. 

You groaned internally. This is what you get for fucking around with clingy, younger men. “Baby, please.” 

He pulled away to look down at you. His glorious body hovering above yours. Bare chest, only black sweatpants today. “You won’t pull away?” 

“No.” You answered, truthfully. 

“And you won’t ask me to leave?” 

“No, baby.” You were beginning to hear that familiar bratty tone in his voice. He could get whatever he wanted when he got in moods like these. 

He smirked, with nothing but a glazed, determined look in his pretty eyes. “Good,” He said, then reached behind him and pulled out his silver handgun. A very familiar handgun. Damn you, another silly purchase. This one even had his initials engraved on it. Bucky chuckled when he saw the look on your face, “Oh I would never hurt you, mommy. This is just… precaution.”

You nodded, holding his stare. You said nothing as he brought the gun closer to your chin. The cold barrel pressed against your skin as he dragged it downwards. Your heart raced faster than it ever had. Bucky’s eyes followed the trail of the gun as yours remained fixed on his face. 

Then he said, “Do you remember when you gave this to me?” He stopped the barrel right in between your breasts. “Do you remember how much fun we had that night?” He smirked, dragging the barrel further down your body. 

You hissed as the cold barrel pressed against your wet folds. Bucky had a heated look in his lust-drunk, now hooded eyes as he slid the tip of it up and down your folds, coating the barrel with your wetness. 

You squirmed under him, instinctively grinding against it. It felt immoral, chasing that feeling. Fuck. 

“Look at you, mommy.” He mumbled. “All of this for your baby boy, huh?” He brought the now wet barrel to his mouth, opening his mouth to let his pink tongue out. He held your stare as he licked it clean. That sinful tongue of his tasting you again. “You always taste so fucking good…” He tossed the gun aside once he was done proving his point. 

Your mind was a mess. Torn between giving in to desire and lust, or side with rational thinking. 

“Open your mouth, mommy.” He whispered, leaning in until his face was just inches above yours. 

When you did open your mouth, he spat in it before leaning in to give you an orgasmic kiss. Messy, wet, warm… your body tingled under him. His warm skin pressing against yours. Bucky reached up and untied your wrists. 

Instead of trying to put some distance between your bodies, you found your hands reaching for him. Your fingers sliding into his hair as he moaned into your mouth. “Fuck… mommy,” He whimpered, holding you closer and kissing you deeper. “More,” He groaned, “I want more.” 

Your bodies moved into position instinctively. Your legs spread just enough for him to settle in between them. 

You had forgotten just how sensitive you were from earlier, so you hissed in pleasure and pain as he slid all the way in. 

You saw panic in his eyes for a moment as he calmed you down, cradling your head and kissing your face. “Shh, shh, hey,” He whispered softly, “It’s just me,” He said, kissing your lips, “It’s just your baby boy, mommy. Open up for me, that’s it, there you go…” He moaned as he pulled out and pushed back in again. 

You swore as Bucky moved his hips expertly, slipping in and out of you with ease. Soon, he was slamming into you, his movement animalistic and unrestrained much like his feelings. He was relentless, taking what he wanted, how he wanted. 

“Buck…” You whined, giving up and just letting him pleasure you. 

Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. “You feel so good, mommy.” He murmured as he increased his pace, fucking into you mercilessly as your legs locked around him. 

Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision getting blurry with each passing second. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, hard, each time he filled you up. “Baby…” You moaned. 

“I know, I know,” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “Tell me I feel good inside you,” He whispered, “Tell me I fuck you good, mommy.” Damn him. He knew just what made you lose your mind and he used them all to his advantage, making you fall under his spell just like that. 

He sped up, rocking his hips harder against yours when he noted that you weren’t doing as he asked. His hand reached around to grab your throat carefully. He squeezed gently, speeding up into you as he looked straight into your eyes, your soul. “Tell me I fuck you good.” He said, jaws clenching and a vulnerable look in his eyes. 

You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. “You… you feel so good, baby.” You mumbled, Bucky leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours as you whispered, “You fuck me so good.” 

He smirked. “I know.” He sounded cocky as he said, “I know only I can make you feel this good, mommy.” 

Your walls constricted around him, hard enough to make him go faster. Bucky pounded into you harder than before, the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room. He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt tears escape your eyes. 

“Baby…” you were breathless, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you silly. 

“Come for me, mommy.” He groaned, giving you a messy kiss as he moaned some more against your mouth, “Come for me…” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before letting go, unable to hold back. More hot tears streamed down your face as Bucky kept pounding into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, chasing his own. 

“Fuck, mommy,” He came with a loud groan, filling you up with his cum yet again. You caught your breath as he leaned down to kiss you again. Kissing all over your face, down your neck and your shoulder. “That was so good,” he whispered, “See how good we are?” He caressed your face, “Why do you want to throw this away, huh?” He kissed your forehead. 

Then he looked over at your bedside table and chuckled. 

“Look at the time,” He sounded calm and normal again. “You’re gonna be late for work, mommy.” He giggled, kissing your cheek, “Want me to drive you? We could grab breakfast on our way.” 

Your brain was too foggy for you to string together words or sentences so you just nodded and whispered, “Okay.” 

— 

After that morning, it was back to being as if you’d never broken up in the first place. 

Each time you even try to say something regarding your relationship, Bucky would shut you up with a mind melting kiss. His skilled tongue and hands could make anyone forget anything. 

You’d wake up each day to find flowers on your bedside. Breakfast was always already made. And Bucky was always ready to drive you to work. 

You decided to bring this whole situation up one day while he was driving. “You know we can’t keep doing this, right Bucky? We can’t… you can’t keep acting like this.” You looked at him, sunglasses hiding his pretty eyes, jaws clenched, that tight black t-shirt hugging his muscular body… 

Bucky sent a quick glance your way, smirked, placed his hand higher up your thigh and asked, “What are you talking about?” He was so fucking good at acting oblivious. 

“This, Bucky!” You gestured to all of him. “All of this. You refusing to leave, you driving me to work.” You listed. “We ended whatever was between us,” You stated. “Why are you being like this?” You lowered your tone, realising that reasoning with him was futile. 

He didn’t say a word. He kept driving, kept his warm hand on your thigh. His touch was as electric as always. His calm demeanour was nothing but a façade, and you knew. He was like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. 

And he did. 

When he pulled into the underground parking lot of your office building, he grabbed your wrist before you could get out of the car. 

“Let go, Buck. I’m getting late for a meeting.” You told him. 

He took his sunglasses off, tossed them aside and said, “You’re the boss. There’s no such thing as the boss being late.” 

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, what do you want?” 

“You.” He answered, leaning closer as he tugged on your arm to bring you closer to him. Fuck he smelt good. “You’re all I want, mommy. No expensive gifts, no trips, no cars, nothing.” He whispered, brushing his lips against your cheek. “Just you. All of you.” 

You groaned, pulling away a little. “I can’t give you that.” You explained. “I have a busy life, I can’t commit, I cannot be in a normal relationship, I can–,” 

He cut you off, tightening his grip in your wrist. “Is there someone else?” He questioned, again with that glazed look in his eyes. “Hmm? Is there some… Steve?” 

You frowned, “How do you know Steve?” 

Bucky smirked, “I went through your phone after you fell asleep last night.” He confessed with no shame. “He texts you quite a lot, doesn’t he? He’s a bit too flirty to be just an employee, mommy.” Bucky spoke, low and deep. “Who is he?” 

“No one.” You answered truthfully. Sure, Steve could be a little flirty sometimes. But he was amazing at his job and you couldn’t lose him so you ignored his flirty comments and texts as one does. He was indeed no one though. “Just an employee, Buck.” You said, quite annoyed. “Don’t fucking touch my phone again.” 

He subtly flinched at the coldness in your tone. “Sorry, mommy.” He murmured. He looked genuinely apologetic for a moment. “I… I saw someone kept texting you late at night and,” He let go of your wrist and slid his hand in between your thighs, “I had to see who it was.” 

Yeah. Pencil skirts around him? Bad idea. 

But his hand felt so good. His fingers sliding up and down the flimsy material of your thong. You gasped as he slid a finger into you easily. “Oh damn you, Bucky.” 

He chuckled darkly into your ear. “Do you like him?” He asked, sliding another finger inside you, making you roll your hips, thrusting into his hand. “Do you let him touch you?” 

“No,” You whined. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping his hand in between your legs as you moaned. “He’s… no one.” 

“He better be no one,” Bucky whispered, kissing down your neck as he finger-fucked you. “Otherwise…,” He gently nibbled on your skin, “You know I always keep my gun on me, mommy.” 

You gasped in shock and pleasure. “Bucky, please.” 

“I will never hurt you,” He whispered. Then chuckled almost maniacally. “You know I will never hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t get rid of whoever tries to come between me and my mommy,” He said, thrusting his fingers rapidly in and out of you. “You’re mine.” 

The interior of the car was heating up. The air was dense and hot, your heart was racing as he touched you, taking you higher and higher… until he stopped abruptly. Pulled his fingers out of you and popped them in his mouth, shamelessly moaning at your taste. 

You almost came at the sight of it. 

You didn’t realise your hand had subconsciously started making its way in between your legs, seeking to alleviate the sweet pain there, until Bucky slapped your hand playfully and said, “Stop that. That’s my job.” 

That broke you out of whatever spell you were under. “Why’d you… why did you stop?” You questioned, breathing heavily. 

Bucky smiled, kissed you on the forehead and said, “I have to keep you wanting more, mommy.” He kissed your mouth, gently. “I’ll pick you up later. Just give me a call, okay?” 

And just like that, he avoided confronting the situation at hand. Again. 

—

A few days later, by some miracle, you’d managed to talk Bucky out of dropping you and picking you up from work each day. 

But of course, he didn’t agree to that out of reason. No, he needed to see something. 

You were unaware of it but Bucky had gotten access to most of the security cameras placed in your office building. The underground garage, your personal office, your assistants’ offices, the lobby, everything. 

He did it to keep an eye on you at all times. All because he wanted you safe all the time. And anytime you were out of his sight, his heart was restless. This was the only way he could be at peace. 

But also, he needed to keep an eye on this Steve. 

—

One evening you came home, and the house was eerily quiet. 

No dinner cooking. No extravagant flower arrangement waiting for you in the foyer. No cheesy notes. Nothing. 

The silence was the opposite of peaceful. You walked cautiously inside your own home, looking for the cause of this tension in the air. The kitchen was empty. So was the sunroom. And that left… 

There he was. Sitting in your lavish living room. Manspreading on a sofa with a drink in his hand and… his gun in the other hand. 

You stopped and froze immediately. “Bucky?” You called out, given he was staring at the ground rather than at you. He didn’t reply so you tried again, “Baby? What is it?” 

He looked up this time. Whatever his moods were, he could never resist those nicknames coming from your mouth. He took one last sip of his drink, whiskey it seemed, placed the glass on the carpet and said, “I thought you said he was just an employee.” 

Your heart sank. You knew who he was referring to. “He… he is.” 

“Oh?” He tilted his head to the side as he pulled his phone out, tapped a few times before turning the screen towards you and there it played. Footage of you and Steve from earlier, saying goodbye to each other. 

In the video, you could clearly see yourself smiling and laughing at whatever Steve was saying. Then out of nowhere, Steve leaned in and kissed your cheek before whispering a goodbye and wishing you a good weekend. 

You looked back up into Bucky’s eyes. They were empty. Like there was no soul behind them, nothing just betrayal, anger, and hurt. “It’s not–,”

“You said he was just an employee.” Bucky repeated, leaning back against the sofa. “Then why the fuck was he touching you? Hmm? Kissing your cheek? Why did you let him touch you, mommy?” His calm voice made you shiver. 

“How did you… have you been watching me?” You asked, taking a step closer to him, only the coffee table separated you. 

He was quiet. Cocky pout on his pink lips. You noticed the slight stubble on his cheeks and how much older they made him seem. More broody even. 

“You can’t do this.” You spoke softly, trying not to aggravate the situation. “You can’t invade my privacy like–”

He cut you off. “Oh please,” he pouted like the brat he was. “I’m your baby boy, aren’t I, mommy? Can’t I care about you? Can't I keep an eye on you when you’re away?” 

“Bucky… this is too far–” 

He cut you off again. “Too far?” He chuckled in that humourless way. “You think I’ve gone too far?” He stood up, he was in no way drunk. 

His movements were calculated, steady, and commanding. He walked around the expensive coffee table and stopped just inches away from you. 

“You’re lucky you couldn’t hear the thoughts that crossed my mind when I first saw him kissing you, mommy.” He leaned in and breathed in your scent. “He was this close to you, wasn’t he?” 

“Bucky,” You tried not to let your voice sound shaky. “Please… 

“Tell me why I shouldn't go back and…” He brought his gun up in front of your face, “mess with him a little.” He scoffed. “How dare he touch you? Hmm?” Bucky brought the barrel up to your face and trailed it down your cheek. “Doesn’t he know you’re mine?” He whispered. “Doesn’t he know only I get to touch you?” He scoffed. “Or am I your secret, mommy? Huh? Do you not tell people about me?” 

You gasped as the cold barrel trailed down your neck, and disappeared into your shirt, lightly grazing the tops of your breasts. His lips brushed against your neck next, kissing his way leisurely up and down. 

You were a mess. You were scared but you knew he would never hurt you. You thought, maybe if you hadn’t been so harsh when it came to breaking up with him out of nowhere, maybe he wouldn’t be like this right now… right? 

His hands quickly undid your top buttons as he kissed his way down to your cleavage. He let out a soft, vulnerable moan as he tasted your skin. The sound of it almost made you slide your hands into his hair to tug on it. Almost. 

“Bucky,” You whispered breathlessly, “You can’t do that. You can’t hurt him just because he kissed me goodbye.” 

He scoffed, pulling away to look into your eyes. His pretty blue eyes were still vacant. “I can. I might.” He said, “You know I would do absolutely anything for you.” He brought the barrel of the gun and tapped it against your parted lips. 

“No.” You insisted softly, “You can’t.” 

“No?” He gave you his signature puppy dog eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn't? Give me one good little reason, mommy.” He leaned in, his free hand touching you down your side. He knew your body too well. He knew you would be dripping for him if he just checked. 

He went to do it, but chose to tease you instead, dragging his fingers up and down your inner thighs through the fabric of your skirt. 

Oh damn him. Him and his intoxicating touch.

“Because I love you.” You finally slid your fingers into his hair. He closed his eyes momentarily, as if relishing the feeling of your touch against his scalp. “Just you.” You said, “It’s just you for me. He’s no one.” 

For once, his eyes lit up. “You promise, mommy?” 

“I promise baby boy, I promise.” You repeated. “Put the gun down.” You instructed. And when he did as you asked, tossing the gun aside, you said, “Now how about we forget about all of this and have one of our lazy nights, hmm? Just dinner, a movie, me and you?” 

Bucky smiled, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly. You couldn’t help but hug him back. The familiarity of his body made you burn. The touch of his skin against yours like the electricity you craved. 

He whined as he nuzzled your neck. “I’ve missed you…” He whispered, unbuttoning the rest of your shirt before taking it off slowly. “Can I please have you? I need to feel you, mommy. Need to taste you… need to make you feel good.” He breathed into your ear, making your body shiver. “Please?” He begged. 

You nodded and let him guide you over to the sofa. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. He chuckled once you straddled him, pulling your skirt up as you undid his pants. 

“I won’t let anyone come between us, mommy. No one. Ever.” He whispered, sliding his fingers between your legs and rubbing you where you needed him the most. He watched in awe as you gasped and moaned. Was there a prettier sight? He wasn’t sure there was. “You won’t leave me, would you?” 

“No…” You gasped as he slid two fingers into you, stroking you until he brought you right over to that edge, and kept you there. 

“Good.” He said, “‘Cause I’m crazy about you.” He chuckled, “You can’t blame me, though. Love does that to people.” He leaned in to kiss your neck, biting down on your skin playfully. “You know there’s nothing I won’t do for you, right?” He sped up his fingers, fucking you a little faster until he began to hear you make those soft little sounds he loved so much. The ones where you tried your hardest not to moan. “I will beg, worship, and plead…” He trailed off, stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, just to get your attention before adding, “...and I won’t hesitate to even kill for you, mommy.” 

You whimpered. Fear and pleasure. There was a warning in his eyes. His glassy blue eyes, there was truth in them. And manic love. Obsession. 

There was no other way for you to go about this situation so you took on your role. You reached up and carefully wrapped your hand around his throat, pushing his head back just a little. You stared into his eyes as you lifted your hips and positioned your hole to the tip of his hard cock. 

“No killing. None of that, you hear me?” You said as you slowly sank down his cock. His lips parted as he exhaled shakily, your walls clenching around him for emphasis. “Do you hear me, baby?” 

He let out one of his pretty whimpers and mumbled, “Yes, mommy.” Then he whined and cursed, “Oh fuck you feel so good.” 

“Good.” You whispered, lifting your hips up and sinking down on him again. Repeating the movement until the two of you were groaning and gasping for air. 

Meanwhile, his thoughts raced as you took his cock so perfectly. His perfect mommy. The love of his life. The woman who controlled every move, every emotion, every thing of his. 

He smirked as he looked up at you, how you were riding him. Nice and slow, and passionate. 

Bucky had to suppress a scoff. You really thought he’d let Steve go just like that? 

Silly mommy… 

Bucky might be the rebel son of his family, but his last name and generational wealth still spoke volumes. He had a little army of his own that he could command into doing anything. And they were currently… taking care of Steve on his behalf. 

Not that you would ever know. 

All you would know would be that on his way to work on Monday, Steve would have an unfortunate, terrible accident. 

“Just you and me, right mommy?” He whispered in his lust-drunk haze as he looked up at you. You looked like a goddess. One he wouldn’t mind worshipping for the rest of his days. 

You agreed. Unknowingly fueling his obsession. “Just us, baby.” 

---

Fin. 

a/n: [dials number rapidly] Freud my good man, listen–

[zombvic]

Hii, i would like to request for Jude Bellingham 🫶🏻 The match between England and Slovakia just ended sooo i was thinking maybe some little angst with reader from Slovakia (because i'm from there🫶🏻) like he would be sad if she wouldn't wear his jersey or her little mad after the match because her country lost, Thank you, have a great day 💗💗

PATRIOTIC (jude bellingham x reader)

summary : in which y/n is a true patriot to her country

face claim : no-one exact

notes : I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! given the fact im also slovak (jedine vsž !!!). this match was a traumatic experience tbh and i was on the edge of my seat (literally) while watching.. i feel like jude is doing everything to go against my silly ahh.. first joining the rival (madrid) and now knocking out my country from the euros man.. since slovakia is gone, time to cheer for spain and netherlands #vamosandstuff

pairings : jude bellingham x slovak!reader

y/n, long time girlfriend of jude bellingham, could be considered a patriot when it came to sports. on an average day, you could say she hated slovakia. the politicians were horrid, inflation was growing by the week, dumb decisions made by the parliament. but when there was an international tournament, like the hockey world championship or the euros, her national pride was next level. she would proudly wear her jersey with the double cross and the red, white and blue colors and cheer for slovakia like her life depended on it.

this year, the euros were particularly exciting. slovakia had managed to advance to the round of sixteen after a tense tie with romania. the whole country was buzzing with anticipation. y/n, however, had a unique point of view on all of this. she was dating jude bellingham, the english youngster, and their teams were about to face off.

the atmosphere in the stadium was wild. y/n sat in her seat, heart pounding, wearing her slovakia jersey with her name on the back. jude knew she was here, but he didn’t know she’d be wearing that jersey. until now, hes only seen her wear an england jersey with a big number 10 on the back while he was playing. the round of sixteen had brought slovakia against england, and the tension was kinda scary.

the game started off intensely. slovakia's forward, ivan schranz, scored a goal in the 25th minute, sending the slovak fans into a frenzy. you could hear that "SLOVENSKOOOO" in your bones. y/n couldn't help but join in on the celebrations, her heart filling with pride. she glanced at jude on the field, knowing how badly he wanted to advance, but in that moment, all she wanted was for slovakia to beat england.

as the minutes ticked by, the match felt like it was dragging. england pressed hard, but slovakia's defense held strong. y/n's anxiety grew with each passing second. she knew jude was frustrated, but she also knew he was a relentless player.

then, in the 95th minute, jude did the unthinkable. he scored a stunning bicycle kick, tying the game. y/n’s heart sank. she wanted to jump up and celebrate his incredible goal, but the reality of what it meant for slovakia hit her hard. the game was now tied, and the prospect of overtime sneaked ominously.

another thing that kind of pissed y/n off was the way jude celebrated. i mean, come on. you scored against your girlfriend's national team, and that's how you celebrate? of course, it's a very passionate game, but it still hurt, obviously.

overtime began, and y/n's fear became reality. just 50 seconds in, harry kane scored, putting england ahead. slovakia struggled to find an equalizer, and as the final whistle blew, y/n felt a mix of anger, disappointment, and sadness. slovakia's journey in the euros was over, and it was mainly because of the man she loved.

after the match, jude came looking for y/n, a smile on his face. "did you see my goal?" he asked, clearly excited.

y/n, still wearing her slovakia jersey, felt a surge of annoyance. "yeah, i saw it," she replied curtly. jude's smile faded as he noticed her tone.

"what's wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"jude, read the damn room," y/n muttered, turning away. she didn't want to start an argument here, not now.

jude sighed, sensing her mood. "i’m sorry, baby. i know you wanted slovakia to win."

"of course i did? but it's not just that," she said, her voice softening slightly. "let's just drop it for now."

"alright then.." jude reluctantly agreed and went out to dinner with his teammates to celebrate. y/n stayed behind in their hotel room, her mind racing. she knew she was being irrational, but the mix of emotions was overwhelming. how could she be happy for jude when her own team had been eliminated?

hours passed, and when jude returned, the tension in the room was thick. y/n's frustration had only grown. jude, sensing the impending argument, he tried to lighten the mood. "you know, you looked cute in that slovakia jersey," he teased.

y/n glared at him. "really, jude? that's what you want to talk about right now?"

jude's expression hardened. "what's your problem, y/n? i played my heart out there."

"my problem?" y/n snapped. "my problem is that you ruined our chance. you ghosted the whole match and then suddenly scored a stinker in added time."

jude's eyes narrowed. "i was doing my job, y/n. i’m supposed to score goals, remember? and why the hell were you wearing that jersey anyway? do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

"oh, so now it's about your feelings?" y/n shot back. "you think it’s easy for me? watching you celebrate while my team gets eliminated?"

"and you think it was easy for me?" jude retorted. "seeing you cheer for the other team? i thought you’d at least be supportive of me, no matter what."

"other team?? you mean my team??? also, what do you mean by supportive?" y/n scoffed. "how can i support you when you’re one of the main reasons we lost? i know it’s just a game, jude, but it still hurts."

"you’re being ridiculous," jude said, his voice rising. "this isn’t just about the game, is it?"

"of course it is! what are you on about?" y/n replied, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

jude ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. "you’re mad at me for doing my job? for helping my team? you knew what this was from the start."

"it's not just about that! it's the way you celebrated, like you didn’t care about what it meant to me!" y/n shot back, her voice breaking. "you scored a goal and acted like you won the fucking world cup. did you even think about how i felt?"

jude’s face softened slightly, but he was still visibly upset. "i’m a footballer, y/n. scoring goals is what i do. it’s my passion, my career. i can’t just switch that off because of you."

"i’m not asking you to switch it off," she said, wiping her eyes. "i’m asking you to be considerate. to think about what it means for me and my country."

jude sighed deeply, frustration giving way to a partial understanding. "i get that, but you need to understand my side too. i can’t not play my best because of our relationship. it’s unfair to my teammates, to the fans."

"i didn’t mean to hurt you," jude said quietly. "i was caught up in the moment. i’m sorry if it came off wrong."

jude stared at her, his anger slowly giving way to realization. "y/n, i never wanted you to feel like that," he said, his tone softening. "i love you, and i cannot imagine you not supporting me from the sidelines."

y/n looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "okay. but next time, maybe don’t celebrate like you just scored in the finals when you score against us."

jude chuckled softly, pulling her into a hug. "deal. and maybe next time, wear my jersey instead of yours?"

she laughed, the tension finally breaking. "we’ll see about that."

as they held each other, y/n felt the weight of the argument lifting, replaced by a renewed sense of understanding and love. they might come from different worlds, but they were determined to make it work, no matter the challenges.

if anyone was interested in my dads entire match commentary 😊

"a mame po turnaji" means were fucked (basically)😭🙏🏽

[yaespook]

Canines.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Werewolf! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Wriothesley, no gendered terms used for reader, reader has a cock with a knot, oral (reader giving), snowballing, rimming (reader giving), gratuitous mentions of spit, muzzle and leash with collar used on Wriothesley, knotting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The bottom paws of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

Getting a new rookie transfer under him this late into the year wasn’t exactly what Wriothesley was expecting.

His office door opens abruptly but you seem almost as bewildered as he is at this surprise. No biggie, the issue is sorted out quickly and seeing that you don't have any case files or inmate registration papers on you (or any sort of personal records at all for the matter), he runs through the essentials before sending you off with a list of duties. 

He watches as you leave his office, you'll undoubtedly be an interesting case to handle.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Wriothesley finds you nice enough to be around during work. You're considerate and you work hard to get your job done. It's pleasant to have another regular familiar face beneath the depths and he's not above sharing his tea with you during your shared breaks. And growing closer, he asks you to box with him.

“Just some training, for fun, that's all.” He's lounging in his chair and cracks an eye open to gauge your reaction. “Feel free to say no if you don't want to. I won't die from the rejection.”

Wriothesley is assured in his combat skills, given his experience in the ring and his daily training. So how is it exactly that he's found himself in this position? 

Dragging out the spar by starting off defensive, dodging his attacks, it seemed as if you were going easy on him.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re going easy on me?” He throws a series of hooks and a particularly forceful uppercut.

But he wasn't interested in winning this friendly battle, he wants to see what you're truly made of. Hence, kicking it up a notch, he doubled the speed of the punches he's throwing, forcing you on the offensive. 

“You’re asking for it, Wrio!”

He's caught off guard when you start reciprocating and meeting him with the same speed and intensity in your attacks. Sure, your footwork and pivoting could use some work, but there's something surprising in the force behind your punches.

It ends when you manage to wrestle him into a headlock, the both of you sweaty and panting, his head pressed against your chest as he's suddenly aware of how close the two of you are. Tapping twice on your bicep hooked around his neck, he admits his defeat this time around. Freed from your restraint, he takes the time to massage his trapezius muscles as he gives you a once-over. 

“That was a good one, another next week?” 

You cough, “I think I’ll need more than a week to recover,” your tone sheepish.

It’s not often he’s beaten during spars, and for a rookie like you to do so? Extremely interesting. What exactly is your background? The secret to your seemingly supernatural strength? Since this incident, he’s found himself drawn to you even more.

However, keeping an extra vigilant eye on you means that he picks up on the smaller things that might be signs. The next Friday, you clock in later in the day, missing your shared tea breaks with him, and you clock out far earlier than usual, evident from the little note you leave at your desk when he looks for you.

“Sorry Wrio! Something urgent came up!”

He quirks an eyebrow up at this. What could have been so urgent that you had to leave immediately? Are you alright? Glancing around, he notices a bag left on your chair. Perhaps you left it here in your haste while leaving, but what if its contents are important to you? No matter, he'll see if he can pass it to you after work, it's a good chance to check up on you too.

But since you aren't around for the rest of the day, Wriothesley has strangely discovered that he's getting through his mundane paperwork and administrative duties a lot slower than if you were present. His brows furrow as he sighs to himself and sips his tea alone before continuing his work.

By the time he's done wrapping everything up and leaving, the full moon is already high up in the night sky. When he tears his eyes away from it, he spots you out of the corner of his eye. Though he would call out to you, your behaviour is suspicious, slinking around the shadows sneakily as you try to stay hidden. Wriothesley decides to tail you, just to make sure that you don't get into any trouble that he'll end up having to sort out. (And that he's also worried about you.)

His guard is up when you step into a wild forested area. The dim moonlight breaks in through the leaves of the canopy area, just enough for him to make out the ground beneath him. He watches where he steps in order to avoid generating any noise that might alert you but the second he looks back up for you, you’re nowhere to be seen.

Uneasiness starts to kick in. Wriothesley is uncaring of all the ruckus he’s making while rushing past trees and brambles as he scrambles to search for you. The thorns scrape and tear at his clothes but he pushes on, launching into high gear.

However, the deeper he gets into the forest, the more Wriothesley begins to notice things going terribly wrong.

There’s a heavy presence lurking amongst the dark shadows, one that has its eyes trained on him, watching his every move. Lumbering footsteps echo throughout the forest around him, as if getting closer and closer to his location. The sound of twigs nearby snapping sharply and the rustling of dry bushes. Trying to get to a better lit area within the forest, the chase is on.

He’s being hunted.

The vegetation begins to thin out slightly as he skillfully weaves between trees and he reaches a clearing. Catching his breath, he surveys his surroundings, keen eyes looking for any signs of movement. The moon hangs overhead, sharing its pale light.

And from the treeline, something pounces.

He stumbles back at the sudden impact, the wind knocked from his chest as he collides with the ground, eyes clenched shut. A beat passes before the weight on him suddenly lifts and he hears a gravelly yet oddly familiar voice, “...Wrio?” 

Forcing his eyes open, he finds himself at a loss for words. 

“I’m so so sorry. I assumed you were some kind of hunter stalking after me and…” your words spiral and trail on but he can’t seem to process anything you’re saying since he’s preoccupied with taking in this sight of you.

In this form, you’re a lot taller than he is and your physique is nothing short of intimidating. Is this where your impressive strength comes from then? Raking his gaze over your body, he pauses at your flexed thigh muscles from holding yourself above his pelvis. (You could crush him between them and he’d die a happy man.)

Your fur gleams under the moonlight, captivating him as a gentle breeze ruffles through it. By the time he tunes back into your spiel, all he catches is you saying, “I’ll make it up to you-”

“Make it up to me?”

“Yeah?” 

“Fuck me then.” He sees your ears shoot up as you try to gauge whether he actually means it and he tacks on, “I’m being serious. Plus no one will find us here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Fine, but pipe up if I’m too rough on you.”

A grin stretches across Wriothesley’s face at your agreement but it’s quickly replaced with a hiss when you drop and grind your dick down against his. Leaning forward, you have him completely pinned beneath you, your body heat and larger frame on his is simply dizzying.

“I’ll give you some kisses to start, hmm?”

He watches as your maw opens wide, showcasing your sharp teeth. He can feel your canines on either side of his face as you lick at his lips but there’s enough trust between the two of you that you won’t clamp down, your fangs gently grazing his skin. You wouldn’t hurt him after all.

You bury your snout in his neck, taking in his scent as the both of you grind against each other, a snarl leaving your throat as you feel how hard and soaked he’s getting under you. 

“So wet, Wrio. Are you that desperate?” Shifting and sitting up to strip him of his clothes, he chuckles as he replies, “Only for you.”

Taking off his shirt, you let out a low whistle at the man before you. His broad shoulders, salt and pepper chest hair on his pecs, the body hair and healed scars littered throughout, and not to mention his lovely happy trail up till his naval. Truly, a sight to behold.

Getting him out of the rest of his clothes, you nudge his legs apart and settle between them. Compared to your looming stature, Wriothesley gets a sense of how much smaller he is when your hands grasp at his thighs. (Or are they paws? Whatever. As long as they treat him real good tonight.)

Tracing the tip of a claw down his inner thigh, you watch him shudder, eyes widening as you get closer to his drooling cock.

“What? Already so turned on by me hunting you down and a little grinding?” You tease and a heat rises to his face, retorting, “Shut up.”

You bury your face closer in, snuffling as you lave a rough warm stripe against the underside of his length, the taste of his precum on your tongue. His legs clamp down slightly on your head when you do so and it’s apparent that he’s enjoying your attention on him. Almost as if he wants you to devour him whole.

Changing tactics, you shift your focus to enveloping the underside with your tongue before taking him into your mouth, careful to watch your teeth. The heat engulfing him has Wriothesley groaning loudly, his hips bucking into the warmth as his restraint starts to slip.

“Mffph… so good-!” He throws an arm over his eyes, more clipped moans escaping him while you swirl your tongue, working him to his peak.

But just when he’s about to tip over the edge, you let him out of your mouth, panting as he watches a thick strand of saliva stretch from your tongue to the tip of his dick.

“Hah… Why did you stop?” Sitting up on his elbows and supporting a frustrated scowl on his face, he looks laughably similar to a kicked puppy.

“Patience, dear Wrio, you’ll get your recompensation in due time.”

Moving one hand to his cock, you pump up and down languidly, aided by the copious amounts of precum and spit. His head spins when he feels you tonguing and lapping at his balls, your hot breath hitting the sensitive skin there.

You dip further down to lick at his rim, peering up to observe his reaction. And it’s amusing. His hands fly to grab at your shoulders, eyes shot open as his chest heaves.

“You liked that?” When he nods, that’s all you need to continue.

Manoeuvring him and hiking his hips up, he yelps at the shift but it quickly tapers into a moan as you press your tongue flat against his rim. You don’t stop stroking his cock as you slowly breach his hole, gingerly prying him open. Wriothesley sucks in a sharp breath at this and grinds down on your thick tongue, forcing it deeper, the pleasure in him building and spiking.

It’s not long before he’s spurting onto his tummy with a drawn out moan, walls clenching down on you and his hips stuttering up with his orgasm. Detaching for a second, you lick a long way up from the base of his dick to his dripping tip and his heaving abdomen, collecting his cum on your tongue.

“Open your mouth, Wrio.” And when he complies, you let your tongue hang out of your maw, a mixture of his cum and his saliva sloppily dripping from you and into his mouth. The ravenous look he gets when he swallows sends a shiver down his spine.

“So good for me, Wrio. Let’s move on shall we?” You give him a sly lick on his cheek. “Can you loosen yourself up a bit more? Wouldn’t want to rip you apart when you take me.”

After coating his fingers in your slick spit, you watch as he preps himself for you. Gazing around, you spy your bag discarded to the side on the ground. 

“Aww Wrio, were you trying to bring me my bag I left?”

“Mmph yeah-! I was worried- ah! -about you,” he grunts out his answer.

You respond with a low pleased rumble, stalking over to your bag and rifling through it to find what you’re looking for. From it, you retrieve a set of a collar with a leash and an accompanying muzzle. To Wriothesley’s surprise, it’s in his colours, complimenting shades of reds and greys.

“I bought it impulsively earlier today, thought of you while doing so. I think I’m in some sort of a rut,” you explain lowly, your eyes level with his and he feels as if he could be consumed with your gaze alone. 

Licking the shell of his ear, he can feel your breath fan across his nape as you continue, “Because of you, Wrio, no doubt.”

“Put it on me then,” there’s no hesitation in his voice when he says this and a satisfaction fills him when he sees your tail start wagging.

Carefully, you latch the collar around his neck, making sure it’s comfortable for him before moving on to fixing the muzzle on him. Finally, you attach the leash, the clip sound completing the set. 

As you take in how utterly delectable your Wrio looks for you right now, a filthy sense of pride rises up within you. You, a beast, managing to twist and warp and transform your human’s visage into one akin to yours, to have him leashed and muzzled as if he were the one with piercing canine fangs and a monstrous secret. And that he doesn’t cower or tremble with fear when pinned beneath you. It’s all too deliciously sinful.

The end of the leash is held in your claws as you eye him down. You manhandle him onto his fours and you line the tip of your cock at his hole. 

“I’ll take it slow, tell me if it hurts,” your head presses against his rim as it gradually pries him open, the wind is punched from his chest at your thick girth. Slowly sinking into him, Wriothesley’s vision spins as you split him open on your cock, the stretch an intoxicating one that has him wanting more. 

When your tip nudges against his prostate, he’s left seeing stars, a debauched moan slipping from his lips.

“Ughk!? Is it- hah! -is it all in?” You shush him, ghosting your claws on the skin above his arched spines.

“Just a bit more, you can take it, can’t you, Wrio?” An uncharacteristic whine rips from him when you finally bottom out in him, flush against the back of his thighs as you reach unfathomably deep in him.

You give him time to adjust to your size before you start moving, setting a relaxed pace to begin with. He squeezes down on your cock as you roll your hips, unrestrained noises escaping him as all sense is fucked from his mind. 

Picking up the intensity, you pull out halfway before slamming back into him, positioning your tip directly at where his prostate is while tugging on the leash.

“Hngk-! So big- AH! Fuck!” Wriothesley’s eyes roll back into his head, mouth hanging open.

Your repeated motions have him going crazy, his arms wobbling at the brutal onslaught of pleasure before giving out, the only things keeping him up are the knees folded under him and your hand clamping around the side of his hip.

Seconds blur into minutes and he doesn’t even know when you’ve started pounding relentlessly into him. Your thick shaft drags against his walls and he can feel every vein and twitch of your cock. 

Sensing you pulling on the leash, he turns and looks up at you, letting you see the drool dripping from his parted lips in the muzzle, his eyes unfocused and glazed over with nothing but raw lust. You give him a lick on his cheek, a kiss, before you fold your body over his, completely pressed against his back, pinning him beneath your massive frame.

“I’m close Wrio,” cooing into his ear again, your gravelly voice brings him back, “Want me to knot you?”

He babbles pitifully, “Uh- uh huh! AH! Yeah-! I- I want you!”

“You’re really asking for it now,” growling at his mindless pleading, you drive your cock in, a guttural howl leaving you as you climax, finally knotting your Wrio. The knot at your base stretches Wriothesley out even more and he can feel your cum filling him up inside. The searing pleasure causes him to pull taut, his back arching as he orgasms again, moaning as he tightens up around you, milking you for all you’re worth. 

The forest clearing is filled with the sounds of the both of you panting as you recover, checking in with Wriothesley to assure that he’s alright. While you wait for your knot to go down, you take the time to free him from the muzzle. The second you do, he leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your snout, a lazy grin hanging from his face.

“Hah… I think you’ve made it up to me,” a glint in his eyes, “Another round next week?”

[> You add a muzzle, collar, and leash set to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[ameliathornromance]

Once a year, the Clan held a fun rough-housing tournament. It’s nothing serious, just something fun for all the Orcs to do during the Summer. Injuries were normal, but it was always done in good faith and there was never any bad blood by the end of it.

And for some reason, completely beyond your Orc Boyfriends mind, you decided that you wanted to join in for this year.

“No.” He had said, the moment you expressed interest in the tournament. “You’ll be turned into a blueberry pancake.”

“No I won’t.” You had replied. You gave a few playful jabs at his toned stomach. He barely felt them, “see? I can land a few good hits. There are humans who fight Orcs all the time.”

Your Orcs’ arms crossed his chest, scowling down at you. “I’m serious Love. Those humans you speak of are trained for years to hunt down Orcs.” He scoffed, “they use dirty tricks and have no honour.”

You sighed, frowning. “It looks like fun.”

“Your idea of fun is strange.”

“Says the Orc who participates in a yearly fighting contest.”

Your Orc held this information from you, but in his opinion, if you were given the proper training, you could easily body several of his others without breaking a sweat. You have the determination to do it, it’s just the physical strength you would have to make up for.

But the thought of you getting hurt in the process – which you would, Orcs do not hold back, even when rough-housing – made his stomach churn with anxiety.

A few days go by, there’s nothing particularly abnormal about them. The only exception being that, you came to bed, later and later.

Your Orc would always hear the sound of the tent flaps opening and closing, the pressure of your weight on the side of the bed. He didn’t know what you were up to, and when he questioned you about it after the third night, you brushed it off: “Ah, some of the cooks needed help with prep for next weeks meals. Y’know, with the tournament coming up and all that.”

Soon, the night before the start of the tournament came and he was alone. He was waiting for you to come to bed. He always fell asleep faster when you were with him and given what was going to happen the next day, he needed to be at his best.

A couple of minutes past from your usual arrival time, causing your boyfriend to sit up and watch the tent flaps. And then, as he yawned, the tent flaps opened and in you walked.

All tiredness vanished from your Orc in an instant. Your face was bruised, your nose a river of blood. You panted hard as you locked eyes with your Orc Boyfriend.

He froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.

You raised a hand as he shot up, “what happened?” He asked, immediately. Rage began to burn bright and hot in his chest.

“Baby I know what this looks like-”

“Who did this to you?” He cut you off. He took your head in his hand and turned your head side to side, examining the injuries in the low candle light, “why didn’t you shout for me? Did you leave the camp? You know you shouldn’t at this time of-”

“No!” You snapped. Your outburst caused your Orc to retract his hands away from you. “There’s a perfectly good explanation for this.”

His scowl didn’t move. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know you said that I shouldn’t be training for the tournament… But I asked Grok to show me how to fight.”

“Grok!?” Your Orc snapped. “Grok the Bonebreaker?!”

Grok the ‘Bonebreaker’ as humans called him, known for leaving human hunting parties with their bones shattered, but alive enough to be heard screaming for help. Grok was the strongest of all the Orcs in the camp.

He knew his own strength, why would he beat you so badly for training?

“He’s been running me through fighting drills for the past few nights… Tonight he told me to come at him with every thing I had.”

Your Orc Boyfriend had heard enough. He went to move past you, to find Grok and beat the hell out of him. You were just a human being and a woman on top of that, how could he have been so harsh on you?!

“Baby, stop!” You threw your hands out in front of him, “let me finish!”

Your Orc stopped, “no, someone has to teach him a lesson for being so dishonourable-”

“There’s a small problem with that…” You spoke, quickly.

The Orc stopped, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

He stared at you, waiting for his answer. What he didn’t expect, was a large grin to spread over your face, eyes glinting with triumph. “Grok is already in the medical tent being seen by the old man because I beat the shit out of him.”

Your Orc’s jaw dropped. He stared at you. "What... How..."

You weren’t strong or tall by any means, you didn't even really have any muscle. Your Orc wanted to be angry, be upset with Grok that he hadn’t held back with you… But all that was overcome by sheer pride.

Your Orc Boyfriend stumbled back, clutching onto his head as if a headache had attacked him. A small chuckle arose in his throat, that then turned into a burst of laughter.

He swept you up in his arms. You gave a yelp of surprise, throwing your arms around your boyfriends neck.

“I can’t-” He pressed his forehead against yours, his laughter dying down, “I can’t believe that I thought you wouldn’t be able to fend for yourself in a fight! Yet here you are, alive and breathing after taking on Grok the Bonebreaker!”

Squeezing you in his arms, he lowered his voice, “this,” he says, “this is why I chose you as my partner, my love.” As he planted a kiss on your cheek, he set you down on your shared bed and sighed.

He took your hands in his, looking down at them settled in your lap. "I'm sorry I didn't think you would..."

"Baby, it's fine." You smiled, making him look up at you. "I understand what you mean now and I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing," wincing, you grazed your nose with your finger. "I think I'll stick to just watching the tournaments from now on."

Relief washed over your Orc, earning another chuckle from him. He sighed, contentedly. “I’m going to kill that Bonebreaker bastard tomorrow.”

He’ll be bragging about this ‘til the end of time – his girlfriend, the human woman, was able to land Grok the Bonebreaker in the medical tent.

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[justauthoring]

naturally [3].

you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally → in which you meet satoru gojo

a/n: yall this one was a blast to write.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic), satosugu as well!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

I won’t be able to pick up Yuji today from daycare, do you mind heading there alone?

No worries at all, Kento. You know I don’t mind. Is everything okay?

Yes. My boss is being particularly pushy about getting this project done by today. I’m sorry to leave you alone.

I’ll be fine. But please don’t push yourself too hard, love. 

Thank you, Y/N. I’ll try not to.

I’ll make your favourite for dinner, okay? Love you.

That would be wonderful, dear. I love you too.

When you’d received the text from Nanami, you hadn’t thought anything of it. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked you to pick up Yuji, and that was way before the two of you ever were in a relationship. It hadn’t been much of a hassle then, given that you lived next door to him but it was even less of a worry now since you’d moved in with Nanami and Yuji into their apartment. Often, the two of you would pick up Yuji together and since you’d started joining Nanami, Yuji had been ecstatic about the whole thing that you made it a goal to go every day.

You’d already been out doing some errands, just about to make your way to the school with the assumption that Nanami would meet you there, when you’d gotten his text. You’d shrugged the whole situation off, mentally thankful you’d gotten all the necessary ingredients for Nanami’s favourite dinner when you’d grabbed groceries with a light frown at the realization of how hard Nanami’s office had been pushing him recently. Luckily it was the end of the week and you could spend the weekend making sure he got the rest he definitely deserved.

Your walk to Yuji’s daycare isn’t long at all and your thoughts are filled with the wonderful and loving family you’ve found yourself. None of it was in your plans for your life but you couldn’t deny how incredibly happy you were. Yuji was an absolute bundle of joy that you loved like your own son, and Nanami was the best boyfriend you could ask for – understanding, loyal, and loving. He checked off any and all boxes that may exist and made you incredibly happy.

You wouldn’t trade any of it.

“Y/N/N!”

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the familiar sound of Yuji’s voice. You blink, not having even realized you’d reached the daycare until a blob of pink comes crashing towards you, slamming right into your legs as Yuji hugs you as best he can with his small arms, peering up at you with bright, shining eyes. You smile at the sight, crouching down to his level as you distantly catch his teacher’s eye and offer a smile when she waves at you, before putting your full attention on Yuji.

“Hi, Yuji-kun,” you giggle, ruffling his hair. You notice his eyes drift past you, and are quick to explain. “Your father is stuck at work for a bit but I was thinking me and you could make his favourite dinner together, how does that sound?” 

Yuji beams; “perfect!”

You let out a laugh, nodding your head. “How was your day?”

“Amazing!” Yuji practically cheers, and you blink slightly at the pure excitement in his voice. Suddenly, he’s letting go of your leg to take your hand in his own, his grip quite tight for such a small child as he starts pulling. “I want you to meet my friend, Y/N/N. His name is Megumi!”

You internally laugh at Yuji’s short-attention span. You’d thought he’d be more disappointed about Nanami not being able to show up, but as usual, the boy was effortlessly positive and didn’t seem to let himself get phased by many things.

That, or he was just happy as long as one of you came.

“Okay–just, slow down a little, Yuji, I–”

“MEGUMI!”

Your lips part as Yuji practically bellows the name, eyes drifting ahead of yourself to the direction Yuji’s yanking you towards. You see a small boy, just slightly taller than Yuji, with black, spiky hair (it’s quite amazing actually), in a similar uniform as Yuji but he looks a lot more neat and put-together than Yuji does–even though every morning, you make sure Yuji leaves with his buttons all done and his collar straight, something or another is amiss every time you come to pick him up.

The boy glances back at the call of his name, seemingly unphased by how loud Yuji was, and it’s then you notice the man standing next to him.

He’s tall. Very tall. He’s got startlingly white hair that falls effortlessly around his head, shaping his face perfectly and he’s wearing a pair of black sunglasses but yet as his eyes drift in the direction of you and Yuji, it still feels like he’s staring directly into you.

“Y/N/N! Y/N/N! This is Megumi,” Yuji tugs at your hands and you pull your eyes away from the man, moving to smile down at Megumi. “Megumi, this is Y/N/N. The one I was talking about.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Megumi,” you offer gently, smiling softly down at the boy.

Meeting your eyes, you’re shocked as Megumi bows, offering a small ‘nice to meet you’. You don’t think you’ve met such a polite young boy, even if he was a little quiet. It’s funny, you think, how Yuji could’ve made such a friend–someone so quiet and calm compared to your loud and boisterous boy. But then again, didn’t they say opposites attract?

“I certainly don’t know where he got that from.”

You glance up as the man with white-hair speaks up, grinning at you as he steps forward, ruffling Megumi’s hair. The boy instantly frowns as he does, batting the man’s hands away as he he grumbles to himself all whilst Yuji giggles, moving to point out Megumi’s frown and the two of them fall into a chatter amongst themselves as the man with white-hair sticks his own out towards you.

“Satoru Gojo,” the man introduces, “and you must be the famous Y/N Yuji keeps telling me about.”

Slowly, you let your hand fall in his, nodding. “Yes, I, um… I’m Kento’s–”

“Wife,” Gojo cuts off, smirking. “Yes, I actually work with your husband.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks burning red; “oh… oh no! We’re just dating, not… we’re not married, Gojo-san.”

“Ah, please, call me Satoru,” he brushes off, “and sorry. I just assumed Nanami would’ve put a ring on you already with the way he talks about you. He’s absolutely smitten.”

Your cheeks stay flushed, glancing at your feet. “Ah, well… you know…” desperate for the conversation to change, you glance back up at him. “Are you Megumi’s father?” You only ask because the two of them don’t really look all that related–of course, that didn’t mean much.

Still, it was a shift in conversation.

“Not biologically, no,” Gojo nods, “but I do take care of him.”

“Barely.” Megumi cuts in, glowering at the man.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter–for such a young boy, he was rather quick-witted.

Gojo sticks his tongue out at the boy, and you find yourself unable to stop the giggle that leaves your lips at the sight. They were a rather odd pair, weren’t they? 

Gojo glances at you as you giggle and your eyes widen.

“Oh, my apologies, Satoru-san! It’s just–”

“No need to apologize,” he waves you off, stepping towards you. “Now, where is Nanami?”

“Oh, he had to stay at work to finish something up. Speaking of, Yuji and I should be heading home. We’ve got to start making dinner. But it was lovely–”

A huge gasp cuts you off. You blink, glancing down at Yuji who stares up at you with an expression like he’s come up with the best thing in the entire world.

“Y/N/N! Can Megumi and Gojo-san stay for dinner?”

-

After a long and grueling day, Nanami is more than excited to come home to you and his son and have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening.

At least, that was the plan.

Until he sees Gojo Satoru standing in his living room.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

He ignores his rather sharp language in front of the children. Never, ever has he ever wanted to see Gojo standing in his apartment, in his living room and least of all, has he ever wanted Gojo to be anywhere near you–talking with you, making you laugh, offering to help you with dinner–any of it.

Your wide eyes fall on Nanami the second you hear his voice, and Nanami feels a flash of guilt when he sees the panicked look in your eyes.

Gojo just beams. “Nanami! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Yuji comes bounding towards Nanami, hugging his father tightly and Nanami, despite the annoyance standing in front of him, of course returns the hug to his son, as Yuji beams up at him; “I asked Y/N/N if Megumi and Gojo-san could come for dinner and she said yes!”

Nanami’s eyes drift to you then, noticing the way you step towards him nervously. “I hope that’s okay,” you offer quietly and Nanami frowns at the look in your eyes. You look positively worried, and he curses himself silently when he realizes it’s because you think you’ve upset him. “Satoru-san said he was a friend from work and Yuji seemed super excited, so–”

Stepping towards you, Nanami gently pulls himself from Yuji, wrapping his arm around your waist to lean forward and press a kiss against your forehead. “It’s no worries, love. It’s not you I’m annoyed by,” he assures you, smiling down at you before his gaze hardens and he faces Gojo who continues to stand smugly in the living room. “It’s him.”

It’s then you learn that while Gojo may consider them friends, Nanami certainly doesn’t.

At least, not outwardly. You can tell Gojo definitely annoys your boyfriend, but Nanami still tolerates him nonetheless and it’s proven in the way he doesn’t immediately kick Gojo out. 

You also notice how Nanami is particularly clingy the entire night – he sticks by you, as if attached to your hip, constantly offering to help, barely allowing Gojo to step within a few feet of you. Gojo notices, of course, and he uses it to his advantage to constantly tease Nanami but you find you hardly care – Nanami was hardly ever possessive and it made you feel giddy that he was so desperate to make sure Gojo didn’t flirt with you all whilst making sure not to be too overbearing on you or do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

It was a feeling that had you tingling all night.

“The dinner was fantastic, Y/N/N.”

Nanami grunts at the nickname Gojo had decidedly started calling you halfway through dinner, a name he’d picked up from Yuji, but you just smile at the man. Gojo is standing by the door to the apartment, a passed out Megumi in his hands. Yuji’s already been tucked into bed by Nanami twenty minutes ago when the two boys had promptly passed out on the couch together. Gojo had moved to excuse himself shortly after, of course with slight pressure from Nanami, who continued to have his arm around your waist, you tucked into his side as the both of you stood across from Gojo, seeing him and Megumi off.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, leaning into Nanami. “I’m sorry we kept Megumi up so late.”

Gojo shrugs, “nah, it’s fine. Suguru might be a bit upset, but…”

Your brows furrow, “whose Suguru?”

Gojo grins. “My husband.”

Your eyes widen and Nanami shakes his head from next to you; “yet you continue to flirt with my girlfriend.”

“Kento,” you mumble, turning to him embarrassed.

Gojo just laughs; “your girlfriend is very beautiful,” he grins over at you, and you glance down at your feet in embarrassment. “Besides, Suguru knows I love him.” Gojo rolls his eyes at Nanami, before turning back to you. “He’s actually out on a trip with the girls for the weekend. Left yesterday.”

Your lips part; “girls?”

“Yes, Megumi’s sister, Tsumiko, and two other girls, Mimiko and Nanako that we adopted.”

You let out a gasp, “oh my! That’s so wonderful,” you beam up at the man. “The six of you must be so happy.”

Gojo laughs; “I wonder about Megumi sometimes… He didn’t wanna go on the trip, said it would be boring but I think it was because he didn’t wanna miss seeing Yuji at daycare. The two of them are like two peas in a pod.”

Truly, you feel like your heart could melt. Turning to Nanami, you beam at him; “we’ll have to have Megumi over more often then.” Then, turning back to Gojo, you add; “and of course Suguru-san and the girls!”

Nanami frowns, but you don’t see it as Gojo grins back at you; “I’ll make sure to let Suguru know.” He assures, “now, I should go. I think I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You glance over at Nanami at that, noticing the frown on his lips and let out a light giggle as you nod at Gojo. With one final goodbye, Nanami opens the door for him, before shutting it the second he’s sure he’s gone. You watch as the man’s shoulders instantly sag the second Gojo’s gone and tilt your head.

“Do you really not like Satoru-san that much?”

His eyes widened; “no… no, it’s not that. I’ve known Gojo for a long time. He’s annoying, but he’s a… friend.” Then, stepping towards you, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just tired.”

His hands fall on your waist, tugging you towards him and you fall into him with ease, letting your head fall on his chest as you hum out softly. “I know. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ve got it.” Leaning back slightly, you press a kiss to his jaw. “Just get some rest.”

Nanami shakes his head; “no, you already made dinner for me tonight. I can help clean.”

“But–”

“No buts,” he smirks down at you. “I want to help.”

With a moment more of hesitance, you nod. And the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you work to tidy up from dinner. With the two of you, it’s cleaned a lot faster and before you know it, the two of you are already tucked into bed, kitchen clean, clothes swapped for more comfortable attire and feeling ready to pass out completely.

Just as Nanami presses a final kiss to your cheek, arm wrapped around your waist with your back pressed to his chest, you can't help but ask; “were you really jealous of a married man? Married to another man, no less?”

There’s a pause. Then, “...maybe.”

[polarisbibliotheque]

Vergil and his s/o training together

Or Vergil and his s/o spar for foreplay fun!

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: With your sword recently broken, Vergil gave you a new devil arm to get used to. He is also your mentor when it comes to fighting - but being his lover doesn't mean he's going to go easy on you. Quite the contrary.

Restrictions: None, BUT I should tell you: lots of sexual tension in this one. What can I say, Vergil is a weird guy, sparring with his lover does things to him. Nothing explicit though, you know how I roll. Also, reader gets bruises from training/sparring. He's rough and doesn't hold back, I mentioned it before I think Vergil has this "only the strong survive" mentality, and I do think he gets ruthless as a sign of respect for his lover's abilities rather than anything else.

Author's Notes: I blame @yanderebishforlevi for this one after they dropped an ask I just answered :) I'm focusing on the Halloween specials, but that made me go through my unfinished, discarded, short stuff on limbo and rehash/put it together to post something new here.

Simple stuff, not really much of a story, just some training with sexy, bared arms, ruthless, emotionally constipated man. That's why I never thought about posting, it felt like it was missing something a plot so I was going to put it in Nemesis but, oh well. Hope you guys like it xD

“We’re done for today.”

Vergil’s words sounded final, as he lowered the Yamato after a devastating blow that had you tumbling back and struggling to fall on your knees – scraping them in a way you would have some bruises to display for a couple of days at least.

“Given it’s my training session, love…” You growled while pulling yourself back on your feet, using your sword as a crutch for help. Vergil observed you with those cutting silvery eyes, almost as if questioning your resolve to pull yourself up. Again. “I say when we are done. And I am not done.”

“You are being terribly stubborn, that is.” Vergil had Yamato back in its sheath, arms crossed while curiously watching you take your coat off, having only your training clothes underneath.

“Well, at least we got that in common, Dark Slayer.” You carefully watched as Vergil mirrored you and took off his own long coat, leaving his arms bare for the first time that night. He only did that when he was about to get rough during training – and you had to huff a laugh. “I’m only standing down when I master this damned sword, and apparently I’m not even close to that.”

“You are closer than you were when we started.” He took a deep breath, already choosing a fighting stance since you were doing the same – walking slowly in a circle, observing him with a pair of predatorial eyes. Vergil was used to be under that scrutiny around demons, but when it came to your eyes, they were threatening… And bewitching.

“And I would be even closer, if you hadn’t been cheating this whole time.” You narrowed your eyes, allowing a smirk color the corner of your lips as Vergil froze in place – you could even bet he stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.

“Cheating…?” His voice was dangerously low, words alarmingly taking their time, savoring every syllable of that little word. You knew you had struck a nerve – but, in your defense, Vergil had been striking your nerves ever since you started training a few hours prior.

It had been a couple of weeks you had a new sword in your inventory: big, heavy, resembling a claymore. Dante and Vergil had killed one particularly powerful demon that ended up becoming the sword now in your hands: brimming with demonic power, ready to be wielded to bring doom to its enemies. You had your previous sword broken into shards while protecting Nero during one of your jobs – a story for another time – and Vergil thought the claymore of sorts would be a nice replacement.

A new weapon, though, meant a lot of new things: new grip, new balance, new weight, new powers… So much to master, but you had to learn soon in order to keep up with your devil hunter job. Halloween was approaching and, given how chaotic the last few years were, you had to at least master the basics soon enough.

Vergil, being the thoughtful partner and lover of knowledge that he was, offered to help you train and master your new sword – all his arcane teachings would surely come in handy when dealing with a devil arm.

You had a problem, though. Learning and mastering things on your own was almost a given, and you always expected to do it at your pace – meaning, you didn’t have much patience to not be at least good and easily fighting after a few hours of practice. With a mentor like Vergil, though, that process was taking double the time.

He was relentless. You being his lover just meant he would go twice as hard on you – in his dictionary, it probably meant how much he adored you; but in your dictionary, you were absolutely and infinitely vexed that, by now, you hadn’t been able to at least get to a tie with him.

And that was something you always proudly said you could do.

“Yes. Cheating.” You held your sword with only one hand, throwing it behind your body and having your eyes fixed on your lover. That way, when you or him decided to attack, you could use all your strength to lunge forward. “You got exponentially worse every time I lost and got back on my feet again; you haven’t made it easier nor remained with the same level of fighting from the beginning. You are making it more difficult for me. If you hadn’t, I would’ve already had my sword on your throat by now.”

“Tsk.” You smiled as Vergil finally had that nonchalant attitude, but his eyes burned like the coldest circles of Hell. With a swift move, he unsheathed the Yamato and attacked you – as you had already prepared before, you threw your sword forward, immediately able to parry. He quickly tried another attack, but you managed to grip your sword with both of your hands and hold him back. You found Vergil’s silvery eyes staring at you sharply between the blades of your swords. “Don’t expect demons to have mercy just because the sight of you eclipses even the moon herself.”

“If we weren’t sparring, I’d take that as a compliment.” You had a small laugh hidden amidst your words, clearly seeing the shadow of a smile Vergil tried to conceal before he pushed you back with only half of his might – still having you stumble back and use whatever energy you had left to keep your body balanced.

“Your human body won’t be able to take it for too long.” And even if Vergil was trying to convince you to stand down, he still circled you, keeping his own predatorial gaze on your form and tense shoulders to quickly get into a fighting stance. You weren’t one easy to convince when you had your mind set on something, that he had to admit. “We should call it a day and tend your wounds. Your body doesn’t have the same resilience a devil’s body has.”

“I would have a lot more if you hadn’t been ruthless with me, love.” You pointed at some slight marks on your body – nothing too jarring, but still making an appearance here and there. “These bruises are on you.”

With those words, it was your turn to lunge forward and attack first. Vergil easily defended with a swift move from Yamato, trying an attack right after. You managed to defend as well, holding him still for a few seconds.

“They will make you stronger.” Were the only words he managed to answer before you attacked again. Vergil seemed to fight effortlessly, while you had to muster all your strength to wield your new sword – Vergil was right to say your body wouldn’t last for too long: you were already tired, thanks to his training, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to back down. And he knew that.

Even if Vergil worried about your stamina, he couldn’t deny how much he admired – and had a pang of pride in his own heart – every time you displayed that much willpower.

With a calculated attack to disarm you, Vergil was certain your playing would come to an end and he would have the final word on that argument – he did not expect, though, a graceful move from your side, spinning such a heavy sword in one of your hands and making it face down, coming between you and him and completely breaking his stance, foiling Vergil’s attempt to end your resolve.

You quickly threw your sword a little on the air in front of you in order to let go from the grip and hold the blade itself – strong enough to be able to wield it, but careful not to hurt yourself in the process – which gave you the perfect opportunity to spin around him and smack the hilt of your sword on his back.

Vergil slowly turned his head around, still impressed by your swift move after being so tired, only to find you with a smug smile on your lips.

“It will make you stronger.” You pointed at him with the hilt of your sword, throwing it slightly in the air again so you could grab the hilt with one hand and then another.

Vergil kept his back at you, calmly walking to the other side of the room so you could take your initial stances again – but this time you saw him shaking his head and heard a low chuckle coming from him.

Vergil was a survivor, one that lived the law of the jungle for so long that sparring and teasing his partner was one of the best ways to entertain him. To say you were both having fun was an understatement.

“Apparently, I haven’t been ruthless enough with you.” He turned around, holding Yamato’s hilt with both of his hands. You had to hold back a smile – that was one of his stances that usually meant Vergil was starting to lose his patience and considering going all out.

And that usually happened when he recognized you were starting to get the upper hand – which meant he saw your playful sword smack as a sign you were starting to get the hang of things.

After all, you only did that sort of thing with your old sword. Comparing to the way you both used to spar, he was going considerably easier on you tonight.

“Let’s remedy that.” His voice was almost a growl as his feet moved like lightning on the floor.

You had to put all your concentration in that fight – your eyes never leaving the Yamato, quickly finding the blade in the air from its shimmer and parrying with your heavy claymore. Using your weight, you pushed Vergil back – which only worked because he saw it as an opportunity to power another heavy attack to try to get you off-balance. You stumbled a little, but quickly gained your balance once more, holding back another quick attack from your lover – something quite frustrating for him, as you observed in his furrowed brows.

Even if he wasn’t going easy on you, it was the first time Vergil was tapping into some of his demonic abilities – strength, speed and power, for starters – and you took that as a compliment. If he wasn’t going to cut you some slack, he could at least fight you the same way he always did – and Vergil never really held back when fighting you.

As he said before, it would only make you stronger. And that was why you could easily fight some of the most frightening demons of Hell without even breaking a sweat.

Vergil didn’t take long to attack you again. He had that look in his eyes he only used when he was hunting, leaving no room for mercy. You held your sword in a vertical position right in front of you, having the Yamato hit the flat blade of your claymore with enough power to have you and Vergil recoil a little from the impact.

Thankfully, your sword was sturdy enough to take a powerful blow from a legendary blade and its less than formidable wielder and not shatter. That was something you would remember later, for now Vergil attacked again and you defended, holding back a series of lightning quick attacks that required all your attention, strength and speed – as well as both of your hands holding your new sword in order to be able to avoid all of the attacks.

As expected, though, you hadn’t mastered your claymore yet. Your grip faltered in one of your hands, and Vergil’s predator eyes were quick enough to notice that and see a window of opportunity. Spinning the Yamato on his hand, Vergil gripped its hilt and used the butt-end to hit your hands and make you lose your grip on your sword.

As you tried to recover without losing too much of your stance, Vergil took the chance to spin around you – as you did before with him – and use the sheath of the Yamato to smack your back. A bit lower, and he would’ve smacked your ass – at least, he allowed you to keep a little of your pride, as you allowed him when you chose not to do that as well.

You immediately leaned the tip of your sword on the floor, side-eyeing your lover – only to find him with his head held high, that convinced expression he would always wear whenever he had the upper hand, along with a ghost of a smile you knew very well.

“Shall we continue…?” His words were crowned with his usual slight tinge of arrogance, as you turned around and adjusted your grip around the hilt of your sword. “Or will you finally yield and allow me to take care of those wounds?”

“As my lover, you should know, Vergil…” You sighed and snapped your neck from side to side, getting back into position to fight. He had to raise one of his eyebrows, ever so impressed with your resilience. “I do not yield.”

His only answer was a smile before your powerful attack, holding you back with the Yamato still sheathed, using one of his feet behind his body as an anchor so he wouldn’t fall over. Even in his wildest dreams, Vergil could never had imagined he would find someone who would give such flawless answers. Yes, he wanted to care for you. But how could he deny the fire he saw in you when you said such things? It was the same fire that kept him alive for so many years; the same fire that made him get back on his feet even when defeat was certain, when all hope was lost, and only death and blood were expected. The same fire that made Vergil defy all odds and save himself, over and over again.

He didn’t know how he had found you neither how he could deserve you, but he did hope you remained for as long as he could have you.

With another attack, he took the opportunity to unsheathe his sword, using both the blade and the sheath to defend himself from a string of attacks as ruthless as those he had attacked you before. You didn’t see an opportunity, but you knew Vergil relied on a few tricks up his metaphorical sleeves, so you acted quickly to do the same he did before – and with the hilt of your claymore, you weakened his grip on the sheath, quickly spinning your sword and hitting it with all your might, making the blue sheath fly across the training ground. Vergil immediately held Yamato’s grip with both of his hands, trying not to let his surprise show on his face.

You could see it in his silvery eyes, though. You already knew how to expertly access them, to find Vergil’s emotions underneath the icy façade he used to wear. You had an advantage that made your heart swell and bolstered your resolve – and that Vergil was also able to read in your eyes. He fought back, putting a little more of his strength and power into a few riposte attacks, stopping your advances and making you fall a few steps back.

It wouldn’t be fair if he started using his demonic might when your body was almost giving out – but Vergil had to recognize you were lasting a lot longer than he expected. He thought, by now, your physical body wouldn’t be able to keep going, completely unrelated to your willpower. But there you were, proving him wrong – and making him fall even more in love with you, if that was even possible.

Your hands trembled a bit, though. You kept your eyes locked in his, reading his every move, his every emotion – and Vergil did the same, as if your fight didn’t rely on your swords anymore. As he got ready for another devastating attack, your sword found his in the air and, spinning your blades together, you brought them down with a flick of your wrist, having them rest together a few inches inside the ground.

You turned your back for a few seconds to catch your breath, pain starting to ebb through your arms. Vergil took some steps back in amazement, since that move was a first: you had never taken a break from a fight by disarming him as well as yourself, even if for a few seconds; you only asked with words and it usually took a few minutes. He observed you carefully – part of him reading if your body was going to give out and part of him reading if you would jump on him unexpectedly. Vergil didn’t know what to expect, but he could feel his blood tingling at his fingertips, ready to take action with whatever it is that you had for him.

After a few seconds, you immediately turned around, locking your hands around the grip of your sword once more and lifting it from the ground. Vergil couldn’t believe you still wanted to fight – and even win – but mirrored your speed and had Yamato back in his grip once more.

A few more attacks. He could see your hands trembling. A few more steps. He could hear your shaking breaths. A few more swift moves. He could see the relentless fire inside your eyes.

Vergil didn’t make it easier because of your crumbling endurance – if you broke, it would serve as a lesson on assessing your own energy and how far you could go. As you knew right from the start, Vergil wasn’t a forgiving mentor and would push you to your limit – he didn’t exactly expect you would do the same thing with yourself as he did to himself in order to improve his fighting to perfection.

A flick of his wrist. A powerful move from your hands. You found yourselves drenched in sweat, in the middle of your training space, the Yamato touching your neck, and your claymore touching the skin on Vergil’s throat.

You had your eyes locked into his silvery gaze, the gleaming blades of your swords ignored as the only thing that dictated that fight was your willpower – yours and Vergil’s. As you looked into each other’s reflections, you stated something you didn’t have to say out loud to be understood: neither of you would ever yield.

As that knowing reached Vergil’s heart, that was only one thing he could really do – something his logical mind and demonic pride could never fathom as the proper response to that situation, but his human heart burned to have him do it. His free hand cupped your face, pulling you into an immediate kiss.

When your lips found his, you used your free hand to anchor yourself in place by holding the back of his neck, pulling Vergil towards you. It was a kiss that burned with the very same fire he saw in your eyes, the one he mirrored in his soul and rarely let out as something other than willpower to keep on surviving. That fire was a will to live, a will to keep going, a will for life… A lust to experience, to burn bright and intensely, to take everything existence had to offer. A lust you could only safely explore with each other, not having to channel that only into surviving, but also into living life as it should be lived.

One of the things Vergil would always tell you, was to never let your guard down. You could be calm and collected, apparently unprepared, but always aware of your surroundings – and ready to kill at every waking moment.

Anything could be a distraction, anything could be a weakness. Being that close to you, in the middle of a fight, with that whirlwind of emotions stirring like a lightning storm that had to have its energy released somehow… Even if you had your sword still in one of your hands as he had Yamato in his, your blades were lowered - you had your grip almost letting go, ready to forget it on the floor.

You had your guard down.

“A demon would have killed you by now.” Vergil’s voice was but a rough whisper as he broke the kiss, his lips barely away from yours, hot breath still ghosting on your skin.

“A demon wouldn’t have kissed me.”

Both of your swords found the floor in unison, as your hands found each other with your lips locking in another breathless kiss.

Fortunately, you were both imperfectly human.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Taming Of The Princess

Ao3 cross post

Rated: Explicit | brat taming, brat!reader, fem!reader, dubcon to con, foot fetishist (its minor) (like the good Victorian man who worships you)

it's writing month! and this 3k im crying

Richard has a measure of pride when it comes to playing his role seamlessly. Flawless charming, making himself appear as a humble knight to the lovely ladies of the manor. Oh, he does not forget about men, he is quite equal when it comes to honeyed words, subtle glances, and maybe a few smiles too.

You do not like him.

Lucky Guy and you are from the same century, but you are years further ahead than him. You two are inseparable and quite bold with one another (it said the social norms in your time changed). You hug each other, playfully flirt with each other, and then there is the way you both dress.

The maid dress was at least knee length, but your attire… What was the Lady Nightingale thinking? Your body just displayed so shameless, the way your hips swayed and the collar on your neck begging him to just grab you.

A foul temptress you are to hate him and tease him.

“What the fuck, Dick!” Post-match arguments, “I told you not to go near me!” They happen to everyone, it is nothing new.

“Richard,” Correcting you, “And you were at critical, decoder. My rescue was perfect, it was your primed cipher that was lacking.”

Victor left the match dining room while Naib Subedar watched, he usually does so if anyone gets physical he can put a stop to it before it becomes a fight.

“What!? My cipher was primed when I pinged it. By the time you got Victor, Naiad abnormal it.”

“Then there is no fault—”

“No, you fucked up! You should've left me and popped the damn thing.” You say.

“The match was a loss, (Name).” Naib Subedar cuts him the second he sees your hand ball up into a fist, and slips his hand over yours, “Enough, go.” Stern, you know he wants you to go cool off.

“... Fine.” You still are side-eyeing Richard but you back up from being in his personal space to yell at him. You walk away out of the room.

“That was easier than usual.” Naib Subedar says with his back to Richard then going over to the dining table before pulling back his hood and leading on the table with his hands. Exhaustion clear in his mannerisms and tired sigh, “Don't hold it against her, Naiad has been more of a problem with how frequent being matched with her is becoming.”

Naiad; Richard has some difficulties with her when he does get put into a match with her. Most of Richard’s matches though have been with Nightmare, Fool’s Gold, and often of late Night Watch.

It is a bit arrogant of him but he likes going against the Night Watch, predictable and one who does not relent in trying to take down the knight.

“Ah, well,” Naib Subedar stretches out his back before heading out, “You should go rest before your next match.” Then the knight is left alone.

Richard is learning there is a pecking order here, an unspoken chain of command and seniority. He has no intention of playing lone wolf or trying to seem like a leader, he is a simple knight in shining armor when necessary.

Florian is interesting with his hero complex, perhaps he will be interesting to speak with about the manor.

Richard's charms have already gained him a few admirers among the ladies, a few of the male admirers too because of his feminine beauty.

Two weeks here and he has found himself enjoying himself, though your behavior towards him— Particularly the nickname is bothersome. It is terribly childish yet your guarded demeanor has been brought up twice during gatherings.

You, a quote from a day ago, “Don't trust pretty boys.” 

Laughable given you were in the smoking room talking to Luca about how beautiful Joseph is with and without clothes on.

The mistrust towards him is fine, amusing when others think you are paranoid.

It is not amusing as weeks go by and he finds himself cracking at the seams when you keep pushing and pushing. And then you pushed the knight too far his true color came out… Not that anyone could fault him given the events leading up to it. 

He left the match only after you were downed and you pinged that you would take the dungeon. Perhaps you should not have tested him, or maybe you should have not teased him with backhanded flirting.

Either way, the knight has a plan to deal with your behavior.

"Finally, silence," The sigh from the knight is exaggerated as he looks over his results. It took some time and being a step of you, a cunning little crow— But the fox is far more cunning.

You glare at him as your wrists are tied behind your back and are kneeling, and rope biting around your breasts as he had tied two separate pieces of room to bind your arms in place. The cloth gag was a last-minute choice as you would not shut up, he should have expected that.

"I suppose we can work on your mouth later."

Richard has you in the supply closet in the kitchens, far from the others. He has his advantage and will be using it.

"Cute." Eyeing your bedtime attire, "To think under all that uncouth behavior and improper dressing, there is a fair maiden underneath."

You struggle against your binds, you hiss as the rope keeps your legs folded biting into your skin.

"I understand you enjoy pain but I advise you not to writhe too much... Not yet." A smirk on his face was highlighted by the candelabrum in his hand.

He kneels, his gauntlet hand reaching out tracing your cheek and chin with the back of his finger, eyes admiring the beauty before him. "Cold?"

You are flustered as your nipples are perky and showing due to no bra and the nightgown is revealed by your open robe.

"Fret not, I shall provide the warmth and succor you need, dear maiden.”

The sharp metal is maneuvered with skill and expertise, you whimper with your eyes squeezing shut as his finger moves from your face. Sliding down your throat, collarbone, and reaching the top of your breast. He tugs the front of your robe to further reveal your covered breast, a smirk on his face as he teases by tracing around your nipple. You try moving but you are stuck in place because of the pipe where you can hear water flowing up.

"You once said any girl would want a knight," His voice is so calm as he pinches your nipple and tugs a bit, "I had not realized my wild little crow was a lonely princess in disguise."

You turn your head away as he toys with your nipple causing it to become harder and sore.

"You had to only request my service, my dear lady." His other hand gives your ignored other breast the same treatment with his bare hand. Not much of a difference as both sensations have you struggling not to moan.

"Such a guarded heart. A princess must protect herself when she is alone."

Your back arches towards him by reflex when he leans down enough for his hot breath to caress your nipple through the nightgown.

"You are no longer alone. I am here.”

You are going to kill him, maim him, shove a damn halberd up his knightly persona ass!

The shift to having you on his lap had you struggle then you felt his bulge from his hardening cock within those tight pants, it just had to brush against your crotch. You shiver as his mouth is on your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth even with the fake silk-like fabric. There you moaned as he made sure to be cruel and abuse your breasts to have you rocking your hips for attention elsewhere.

"Oh, how beautiful you are," He guides you to keep rocking your hips, to keep grinding on his cock and staining his pants with your dripping cunt. He grins as he knows your face hidden in the shadows is simply lovely. The pained expression as pleasure captures you without its claws.

He raises your nightgown to your waist then tucks the sides into the rope and does the same with the back.

"Naughty. Quite the lingerie to be wearing, princess."

"Fump humt!" You try back talking which gets you a slap on your exposed ass cheek by his gauntlet. You cried out in pain.

"Behave, though I serve you, you will not disrespect your knight."

You nod as if apologetically.

"Good girl." Kissing your nose, "Now, let me lay you down."

You are untied from the pipe but still helpless and now you are on the floor with wide-open legs.

Princess. The shit you do not call yourself because you are too grown for that!— Plus, you prefer being called kitten or pup, some hot and degrading when you are in the mood. Yet, from him, it sounds like a perfect fit.

You gasp as you feel his metal finger rub up and down your cunt, your partially lace panties captured his fancy. You are wet, and can't be helped with what he is doing with your breasts, his mouth back on them as he tugged your gown down to free them enough to place hickeys on the top.

You writhe and moan, head turning back and forth, back arching up when he gives more attention to your clit. The barrier of your panties protects you from cold metal but does not save you from his touches.

"That's it, so good for me, princess. It is what I am here for, to satisfy you."

The corner of your eyes builds up tears as the stimulation becomes too much. You won't be able to hold back from cumming.

And you swear he knows!

Knows and stops before you could cum, you were expecting him to then pull out his cock and just fuck you.

Oh, how wrong you are. Your knight is hellbent on ensuring his lesson is taught and understood.

He moves your panties aside before putting two fingers in his mouth to wet them before he cups your pussy. You go stiff when he tries to put two fingers in and then puts the middle finger slowly and carefully. He hushes you, finger wiggles and he groans at the way your velveteen walls are so inviting. Tight and wet, he moves it around a bit more before inserting his index finger, a second to wait for you to relax before moving. Scissoring his fingers to prepare you, enjoying searching for that spot; that spot that has any woman hysterical.

You are squirming more as you feel him searching for your demise, and you get unexpectedly loud when he does.

"Rihmrd!"

"Ah, deep right here." As he touches it again. His thumb is on your clit rubbing circles as he now has you trembling before your fall.

Over and over, just on the edge, he kept fingering you to the edge but never letting you cum.

At this point, you are crying and begging for him to just let you cum. You have forgotten about being mad at him for anything! All you want is mercy to be free of this torture!

"Has the princess learned her lesson, hm?"

You nod your head quickly.

"Understand my patience can be tested but you will reap the consequences, dear one. I can be rewarding and merciless." A dark tone you now realize he used during one of the matches where you went too far to be petty.

"You will cum soon. First, you will provide me with a taste of your nectar."

Anything he wanted he could take it with how you are burning alive with need.

Richard Sterling is a beautiful man, there is no denying that truth. So is Frederick, so is Edgar (when he isn't being an ass), and Joseph (God, he is divine).

And you have had your share of fun with them. Nothing serious, just fun.

But you do not believe this is going to be a temporary one-night stand with Richard. You fear he is going to imprint himself on you, have you crawling back to him, to be his pauper turned into a princess by his word alone.

You hate that! Hate him yet he is between your legs drinking from you while you wish you could pull on his hair— Fucking soft looking hair.

His eyes are sharp on you, locking eyes with him is a mistake as his fingers suddenly start moving at a relentless pace and his mouth is on your clit.

That was your end, seeing the damn constellation of stars with how hard you cum.

You are not going to be able to recover from this, he might have ruined you forever for another. Jerk. Asshole. Damn bastard!

"Gorgeous. Well done, princess." Then he chuckles as your glare is back but your eyes are glossy from crying. "There is no need for that."

You are a mess, hot and bothered, and extremely needy for more.

He kisses his way up to your chest then kisses your chin with the satisfaction of a cat who caught the mouse. "We are not done yet, but you know this. You aren't done either."

You huff at him though you still are floating on cloud nine of your orgasmic high. His hands carefully untied your legs, soothing them and kissing your thigh as he rubbed the numbness you were gaining away. His eyes on your face, your parted lips, your eyes that stare wide-eyed at him like a doe-eyed maiden— Though he believes a siren-eyed maiden caught in a fisherman's net.

“How tempting you are my dearest princess. It is no wonder others are enchanted by you.” His voice is so elegant and sweet in the way you imagine romance novel men sound like.

Perfect, too perfect, you are going to dig yourself further into his trap.

The other leg is untied and given the same care, but then he lifts your leg, and—Your flustered cheek hurts from how hot they are! He tosses off your slipper, his tongue sliding up the bottom of your foot up your big toe, his mouth on it— Sucking on it— before bending your knee to allow him to kiss his way up to your calf.

“Fumk ah!”

Richard attacks your breasts once more, you are helpless and honestly do not want to fight, everything he does has you lost in the ether damn pleasure. His cock is not even inside of you and you want it so badly— So badly you are saying gagged nonsense as he switches from your breasts to your neck and face. He licks your tears away, lips on your cheeks, the dark chuckle as he avoids your sweet lips.

“Shh, now, have I not been patient and merciful with you? Foregoing your reasonable punishment.”

You nod as you just want him to fuck you already.

“Of course, anything for you as you hold my heart, princess.” He rips open your nightgown with his sharp gauntlet. “I will ravish you here, upon your bed, upon mine, anywhere your shameless heart wishes.”

The kiss on your nose has you in tears, well, more tears of frustration and need. He looks at you with affection and false pity.

"Now, my princess," The cloth tugged down to hang around your neck, "Beg with that filthy mouth you like to use to berate your knight."

Oh, you do, with a sobbing cracking voice, you beg for cock. Beg and debase yourself for him to finally fuck you the only way he can possibly could give.

"Good girl." He stands up leaving on the floor looking up at him like a savior promising to soothe your misery.

"On your chest, princess, and show me your ass." Vulgar word coming from him only makes you wetter— If that is possible. You do your best while lying down and rolling over the floor, you cringe at how sticky your breasts are on the cold floor. And pushing your legs under you to display not only your ass but your glossy dripping cunt to the fire.

"Magnificent..." Then he slaps your ass from the bottom near your pussy, "A taste of what you will receive if you test me again, my princess." He enjoys your shout of pain and lust from his firm strike.

You are so happy to hear the unbuttoning of his trousers, to hear his feet moving and the thump of him dropping to his knees. Better is his gauntlet-covered hand grabs a hold of your hair as he rubs his very hard and ready cock between your lower lips, his groan when the tip of his cock catches your twitching hole.

"Richard, please! Please, my knight!" Calling to him. He pulls your hair as his other hand guides him inside the paradise he knows well.

This is the point of no return he wants you, the point where he could do anything and you will take because so long as that quim of yours in full; and he will do anything to you. The last piece of rope is a short-lived mercy as the knight yanks off your robe revealing the deep dip of your nightgown.

The growl at the sight exposing the reality of your nightwear is far more revealing than the current ones of his time, anyone could— Have— Seen you like this.

Your arms are fortunately sore but not numb, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything as he moves at a fast and brutal pace— It hurts yet it is amazing! You cannot shut up, moaning and saying his name, you do not care if anyone passing back hears.

Richard just must not stop, never stop, you say it to beg him to not stop fucking you so damn good.

“That's it, perfect, princess.” Sounding equally as affected by this, by him thrusting into you like a rutting mutt.

“Richard! I'm so ah close!” It is too much yet not enough, “More, everything, please!” Broken sentences of desperation, the laugh behind you as he lays upon your back covering your body. All you feel is him, all you smell is him, all you want is him. His hand goes between your legs, you lose your voice as he rubs your sensitive cilt bringing about your end.

It doesn't stop even with you black out for a second, he keeps going with you on your back and him holding your legs together over his shoulder. He looks so handsome like this; his eyes shine with his fulfilled promise of sin, and his swollen bottom lip from biting down on it, the sweat on his forehead as he gives you everything. You cum once more but now with him, the sensation of his cum filling you up reminds you how grateful you are unable to get pregnant in this cursed manor.

The only good thing about this place, is no more menstrual cycles (though the ovation horniness is still there) and no pregnancies.

You both are out of breath, eyes locked on one another, he doesn't pull out. Richard parts and rests your legs down before kissing you, your legs lock him close as he starts touching you again and you fight to get his clothes off.

Richard finds him enjoying your “bratty” behavior, he gets to see how far you go to get the attention you want from him. It has its time and place, and yes it is childish, but he finds that so long as he has you over his knee— Well, you are inspired to behave for a while.

“Princess.” Kissing your hand as he finds you in the library putting away some of the books you borrowed, “Are you preoccupied at the moment?”

“No, why?” Placing the last book back, “Dick!” He pushed you against the wall-mounted bookshelf with both your hands against the shelf.

“Knight or Richard.”

“No Daddy or my Lord?” Being your usual self, “Is my Lord in a good mood if he is wearing his armor.” Winking at him. You like the Red Knight armor set though it is a pain in the ass to get it all off— Not that you want it off of him immediately!

“He is but her highness should address me as ‘sir’ for I am only her,” Sliding down onto his knees, “Modest knight.” You keep your hands in place as you watch him enjoy the benefits of you wearing a summer dress, one you usually wear to tea with Emma and Melly.

“Here?”

“Here.”

[disillusioneddanny]

Postcards and Polaroids

Bruce Wayne sighed as he walked through the streets of San Francisco, his shoulders hunched in on himself. He had been dreading this business trip for days now, and had been doing everything he could to get out of it but Lucius had put his foot down and all but demanded that he go.

Yes, Bruce’s friend knew what going to San Francisco meant to Bruce, knew how hard being in this damned city was but he didn’t particularly care. Not when he still blamed Bruce for what had happened in the first place. The Fox family in general had treated the Waynes differently ever since the event had happened.

Ever since Tim Drake had taken his own life.

Nearly two years later, Bruce still didn’t know how he didn’t notice the signs. Now looking back on it, it was so ridiculously obvious just how badly his middle son had been hurting and Bruce had done nothing for him, had not been there for support, and hadn’t given Tim the love he so desperately needed.

Instead, he had put the Mission first. He had been so consumed in catching up on what he had issued during his time last in the time steam that he had started to treat Tim more like a soldier than a son. Looking back now he knew what he should have done differently.

It was so glaringly obvious to him now how he should have handled things, how he should have handled Tim.

Tim had managed to pull him out of the timestream and Bruce had not thought too much on the lengths that Tim had gone to do it. If he was being honest, he still was not sure how Tim had done it. All Bruce remembered was there was a bright green portal that had opened up before him, Tim had walked out in a suit that was definitely not the Robin suit that Bruce remembered and had taken Bruce’s hand.

He remembered he didn’t even hug Tim as he stepped out to the other side. He just remembered being led to the med bay for Alfred to check him over, remembered that Tim had quietly left the Batcave without a word to a single person in the family and Bruce hadn’t seen him again. At least, not his Tim, he should say.

He had seen Tim’s new vigilante persona Red Robin at least once every two weeks when Red Robin would check in with Batman on how his patrols were going. He would see Tim Drake-Wayne when Bruce was forced by Alfred and Lucius to check in on the going ons of Wayne Enterprises. But he had never tried to take the CEO role back from Tim. In his mind at the time, the seventeen-year-old had been doing so well, he had taken to the job like Bruce had never been able to do and he was thriving.

Or at least, that’s how Bruce had seen it at the time.

He hadn’t noticed the bags that covered the skin under Tim’s eyes, and hadn’t heard the sheer exhaustion that was in his voice. He hadn’t noticed that Tim was slowly killing himself under the pressure of trying to do everything.

He never questioned why Tim stopped coming to family meals. He never questioned why Dick and Damian both refused to talk about him. He never asked why Jason had pulled away from the family again when he had just gotten Jason back before the entire time situation had started.

He had never questioned how Damian had become Robin.

There were a lot of things that Bruce had simply allowed to continue on without investigation and looking back on it now, he didn’t understand why he did. It was never in Bruce’s nature to not question things. He had always been a curious person, even as a child before the deaths of his parents. He had always wanted to know why, when, and how on every single thing.

But for some reason when it came to Tim, it had never even occurred to him to ask.

Jason had been the one to explain why.

Tim had proven himself to be so unbelievably independent, so similar to Bruce in a way that none of Bruce’s other children seemed to be able to do. Bruce saw so much of himself in Tim that he had never thought to ask Tim how he was doing, he had automatically assumed that Tim would say something if there was a problem and that had been where Bruce had screwed up. Considering even now as an adult Bruce struggled with sharing his feelings or letting others know when the world was starting to get too heavy on his shoulders, he should have known that Tim would be the same way.

He had just never expected that Tim would crack under the pressure.

Strong, capable, intelligent Tim who had singlehandedly brought Bruce back when no one else knew how.

Independent, determined, amazing Tim who at just seventeen years old was smarter than Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Ra’s Al Ghul combined.

Tim Jackson Drake-Wayne who had been Bruce’s pride and joy, his son had been crumbling under the weight of the world and no one had noticed.

It was Tam who had found the body.

None of the bats thought twice about the fact that they hadn’t seen or heard from Tim in days. It was usual for him to go days without checking in. Even as Red Robin he only checked in every two weeks and it hadn’t been that long yet.

Tam had noticed the day it had happened but she had investigated with Bruce and his family first to find out what was going on. When they didn’t have answers she went to find Tim.

She had gone into Tim’s house, a house that none of the bats even knew about, and found Tim sprawled on the floor of his living room, a single gunshot wound to the head.

There was something symbolic about Tim using a gun to kill himself. Bruce wasn’t sure what the symbolism was, had never really let himself look into it more but he knew it had to do with him and he couldn’t bear to try to understand why Tim thought it the best way to take his own life. Why Tim had thought it necessary for him to take his own life in the first place?

They had done all the tests they could, Bruce had turned down an autopsy on the very slim chance of Tim coming back to life but they had proven it was Tim and not a body double or a clone of some sort.

It was upon the family learning about Tim’s death that each member of Bruce’s family had broken down, and had started to blame themselves for Tim’s suicide.

It had started with Alfred the night they had taken Tim’s body to the mortician’s office. In a moment of what Alfred would consider weakness, he had broken down to Bruce. Had admitted how he had not done enough, how he had not tried hard enough to keep Tim in the family. He had quietly admitted to Bruce that he had talked to Dick about admitting Tim to Arkham Asylum while they had been under the belief that Bruce was dead.

He had quietly admitted to not believing Tim, to even going so far as to raise his voice at the teenager and told him to cease with his crusade. Bruce had listened in horror as Alfred explained his role in taking Robin from Tim and supporting Dick into giving the role to Damian. He had accused himself of driving Tim away from the family.

The next had been Dick.

He had been inconsolable from the moment he had learned of Tim’s death. Had been unable to keep himself together long enough to form coherent words much less sentences. It wasn’t until a week after Tim’s funeral that he had finally come to Bruce about it and he had just sobbed. He had explained through broken words and a quivering voice how he had treated Tim worse than any of his brothers. How he had failed the promise that he had made after Jason’s death to be a better big brother.

Dick had been the one to say what Bruce had been numbly thinking himself.

Tim was just so utterly reliable and independent that he had forgotten at times that Tim was still just a seventeen-year-old kid. Not only was he just a kid, he was a kid with trauma, with secrets that none of them had ever known about.

At that point, Bruce had already been slowly unraveling the secrets that Tim had kept close to his chest or only allowed certain people in his life to know about. He had learned about the loss of Tim’s spleen, the strange relationship he had with Ra’s al Ghul and so much more. It was horrifying to know just how much Tim had been carrying on his own but it was all there in Tim’s files, the meticulous reports he kept for himself painted a picture that Bruce had no idea about.

There were just so many different sides of Tim and for being his father, Bruce felt like a lousy human being.

After Dick had finally calmed down to explain how he failed Tim, failed him in so many ways, in the same ways that Bruce had. Bruce had no words for him. How could he tell him that it was okay when they were all still in the aftershocks of Tim’s death, of his suicide?

He had taken his own life and hadn’t even bothered to leave a letter explaining why he had done it. All they had been able to find was a post-it note with the scribbled words “I’m sorry” written upon it so hard that each letter was indented into the pages of the post-it pad.

Instead, he had told Dick that they would both work to be better for the future, for the rest of their family so that no one else in their family would ever experience the kind of pain that Tim had gone through.

The next had surprised Bruce the most.

He hadn’t expected for the silent tears that had streamed from Damian’s face as he crawled into Bruce’s bed one night. He never said a word, never breathed out a single utterance of how he had wronged Tim. They all knew. They had all known the harmful words that Damian had thrown Tim’s way, and knew of each attempt to kill the older boy. Bruce had never said a word about them further than scolding Damian when it had happened in front of him.

He should have done more. He should have punished Damian for his treatment of Tim, and should have done what he could to make sure that Tim knew just how loved and treasured he was. How important he was to Bruce and their family and instead he had allowed the abuse from his youngest son to continue and called it brotherly bonding, assuming that it was just how siblings treated one another.

But he knew that night that he would never allow for another child of his to treat another one the way Damian had treated Tim. He also knew that Damian would never continue to treat others the way he had treated Tim. Knew that the pre-teen saw the way he had assisted in pushing Tim over the age and knew he would never do it again.

Jason had been the quietest in his grief.

He had cut himself from the family once again upon Tim’s death as if the only reason he had rejoined in the first place was because of Tim. It had been a quiet resignation with Jason, no more taunting, no arguments. If a member of the bats did contact the crime lord the conversations were short and sweet with none of the barbs that the family had come to expect from Jason.

It wasn’t until he had found some discarded polaroids in one of Tim’s safe houses that he realized that the two were mending the bond between them. The resigned smirk on Jason’s face besides a beaming Tim spoke volumes to Bruce as he looked at the picture of the two.

The others had all grieved quietly as well, none of them ready or able to talk about Tim, about why he would have taken his own life when he had so much to live for. The Titans had been inconsolable upon learning of Tim’s death, Bart and Conner going as far as to blame Bruce and the others for Tim’s death, accusing them of driving Tim to suicide of all things.

Reflecting now, they were right.

The Wayne family had caused the death of one of their own.

It made times like now even more difficult.

He was in San Francisco for a business meeting, yet he couldn’t help but look out to Titan’s Tower and even two years later briefly wonder if Tim was there. He knew, at his deepest core he knew that Tim wasn’t there yet his heart always hoped.

It had been two years, Bruce had seen Tim’s body with his own eyes and he knew, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Tim was dead. Yet there was a small, hopeful part of him that wanted it to all be an intense mission that required Tim to erase himself from the world. That Tim was just in an intense undercover ops mission.

Being in San Francisco always made him think about Tim, though. Of his adventures with the Teen Titans, of the way he would gush about how the best pizza was found here. How he would always look to the West as though that was where his heart truly was.

Losing a son caused Bruce to be more introspective, to look more back on things and analyze them in ways he didn’t used to.

With Tim he would look back and realize that Tim was never actually happy in Gotham. That the only reason he was even still living in Gotham was for the Mission. He had felt an obligation to stay. Jason had been the one to finally explain to the rest of the family that Tim never saw himself as a member of the family.

That he only saw himself as a necessary cog in the machine. That he was simply there to make sure that the rest of the team was a functioning machine, that he was only there to assist them and nothing more. He had never really seen himself as a part of the family, never imagined himself as Bruce’s son. Hell, he had even gotten himself emancipated when Bruce had gone missing. Bruce could see it now, could see how Tim carefully cut each of his bonds to the family one by one without any of them ever noticing he had done so.

The vigilante shook his head, trying to forcefully clear his mind of the thoughts that were currently plaguing his mind. He couldn’t think about Tim right now. He had things to do, he needed to get lunch, needed to prepare for this damned meeting and then fly back to Gotham as soon as he could so that he would no longer be haunted by the ghost of his son.

He tiredly looked at the others passing by him on the street, the bright and happy faces of people who would never understand what it was like to know that they had driven their son to suicide. Bright happy couples who looked like they knew what it was like to cherish their loved ones.

Bruce did a double take, though, at one man who walked alone on the sidewalk. His dark black hair was covered in a beanie and he wore sunglasses reminiscent of the ones that Tim used to wear religiously. That wasn’t what stopped Bruce in his tracks, though. It was the jacket that adorned the young man’s shoulders. It was a jacket that Bruce had seen Tim wear like a second skin when he wasn’t wearing any of his suits. A gray denim jacket with a few worn patches upon it. One of the Flash logo and one of the Superman logo. But they were never for either of those heroes, they had always been for Impulse and Superboy. He knew that if he looked at the back of the jacket there was a black patch sewn in from where Damian had ripped the jacket after one of his murder attempts.

His legs took control of his body and made their way towards the young man who had stopped to type on his phone.

“Tim,” Bruce breathed out and the man looked up and frowned and Bruce knew he had made a mistake. It wasn’t Tim. He had likely bought the jacket from a thrift store. Bruce knew that they had donated nearly all of Tim’s things after they were certain that he wouldn’t come back from the dead.

The young man looked Bruce up and down for a moment before he gave him a small smile. “No Sir, I’m sorry. I’m Danny,” he said, giving Bruce a crooked smile.

“My apologies,” Bruce nearly stammered out, still unable to tear his eyes from the jacket that adorned his arms. “You uh, you look like my son. He passed away two years ago and sometimes I see him in others.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the young man said and gave him a sad look. “I hope that wherever he is now he’s a lot happier.”

Bruce just gave him a small, sad smile of his own. “It’s quite alright, it’s been two years. Everyone says that grief will fade with time but I don’t think that’s true,” he said before he shook his head. “I apologize, it seems that this old man is a little more emotional than usual today.”

“It’s quite alright,” Danny said with a laugh, repeating the same phrase Bruce had just given him. “Someone very close told me that grief is love everlasting, it means that even though the person you love is gone, you still love them. You still hold their memory tight to your chest and you treasure them.” Danny furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. “I think that grief gives us a reason to keep moving forward in life. Because we are no longer living our lives for ourselves, we’re also living life for the ones that we lost in the hopes that they’re proud of us.”

Bruce paused and looked at the man in front of him searching for something, he didn’t know what. “Have you already eaten?”

Danny shook his head. “No sir, I was just headed to a little shop for lunch. Would you like to join me?”

“If it isn’t an inconvenience,” Bruce said hesitantly and Danny just beamed.

“Not at all! My husband just canceled our lunch plans on me so I’d be more than happy to have you join me,” he said. “There’s this pizza shop down the street that has some of the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life.”

“That’s where I was headed, actually,” Bruce said and followed the younger man down the sidewalk, opening the door for his new young friend before the two were seated.

“What was your son like?” Danny asked as they waited for their orders to arrive to the table.

Bruce gave him a brilliant smile, he had never felt so thankful to be asked to talk about his son. “He was amazing,” he said breathlessly. “One of the most brilliant minds I had ever encountered. I remember when he was just a tiny thing and he would come with his parents to galas that I was at and I just remember being so amazed at this little boy and his bright mind. And then I adopted him years later and he just never ceased to amaze me. He was so strong and determined. And he cared so much about the people around him. I failed to realize until after he passed on that the same love for others he did not have for himself.” Bruce was quiet for a moment as he stirred his straw around in his cup for a moment. “He killed himself.”

Danny let out a breath. “I’m sure he sees now, knows just how much you love him,” he said, still giving Bruce that sorrowful look.

“It should have never gotten to that point. I should have made sure he knew when he was alive just how much I love him. But Tim, Tim was always my strong kid. He was the one I never thought I had to worry about because he was just so capable. He was so sure in himself, I mean the things he did, they were amazing. I would have never felt so confident in myself at just seventeen years old, not the way he was,” Bruce snorted. “I’m well into my fifties now and I still struggle with self doubt and I never took a minute to realize that Tim did. I never felt like I had to worry about him and that was my mistake. Because no matter how sure I was in my love for him, no matter how I felt about Tim, that’s not how he felt. And he deserved to get the love and support from his family and not just know that we loved him, you understand?”

The young man nodded his head sagely. “I understand. My parents were similar, they had just assumed that I knew that they loved me, assumed that I knew their jokes were lighthearted and in jest but for me they never were. They were harmful and mean and my parents were neglectful and never cared about my feelings. I don’t talk to them anymore,” he said with a sad twist of his lips. “They don’t reach out either. I-I would have loved for a dad like you, Bruce. But I don’t think my parents will ever realize that it was their fault I left or that I never felt welcome. Wherever Tim is, he’s very lucky to have you as a father. Because even if you realized too late, you still realized it. I doubt mine ever will.”

Bruce gave him a soft smile and leaned across the table to grab Danny’s forearm in a comforting grip. “Your parents are missing out,” he said with a kind smile. “If you ever need anything, call me,” he said quietly before he slipped Danny his card with his personal number on it.

Danny took it and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

The waitress soon brought their pizza by and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

“What do you do for work?” Bruce asked and Danny chuckled.

“I’m a mechanic,” he said simply. “I own a shop here in town with my husband. He actually ditched our lunch plans because our supplies truck came in and he wanted to get it done.”

“Oh? Well, if you ever find yourself in Gotham, we would love a mechanic like you at Wayne Enterprises,” he said with a small smile. Danny let out a soft chuckle.

“I appreciate it, Mr. Wayne,” he said and Bruce raised an eyebrow, remembering that he had never introduced himself to the boy. Danny flipped the card to show Bruce’s full name on the card and laughed. “I recognized you the moment I saw you,” he admitted and Bruce chuckled.

“I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “I’m unfortunately a recognizable face.”

“I can imagine,” he said before he stood. “I had a lovely time, Mr. Wayne but I have to get back to the shop before my husband goes insane. I can’t trust him alone in the shop for too long before he gets another hair-brained idea,” he said, chuckling at what was likely an inside joke between him and his husband.

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Danny, you were a wonderful lunch companion, and thank you for listening,” he said with a kind smile.

Danny smiled and nodded before he made his way out of the pizza shop.

Bruce smiled and sat back in his seat, shoving his hands in his suit pocket as he stared at the spot where Danny had previously been sitting when he felt the sharp edges of something in his pocket. He furrowed his brow and pulled out two pieces of stiff paper. One looked to be a Polaroid picture, the other a postcard.

The postcard read Greetings from San Francisco. It also had a folded-up piece of paper taped to the back that Bruce carefully unfolded.

Hi Bruce,

I’ve written and rewritten this a thousand times. I never knew how to write it. I guess I should say surprise! I’m not dead! I’m sorry for making you and the others think I am. But it was for the best, it was for the sake of my mental health and it was the only way I could get away from Ra’s al Ghul and live my life. Someone I love once asked me if I could do anything in the world without the Mission hanging over my head what would it be? And I realized that I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know who I was outside of being Tim Drake Wayne, CEO and Vigilante and I realized I wasn’t happy. Maybe one day I’ll somehow reappear in your lives, maybe I’ll be able to share my joy with you and the others, maybe you’ll get to actually get to know my husband. I’m not sure when that will be, but maybe one day I’ll come back. I’ve obviously contemplated it enough considering I even made a point to reach out to you at all rather than let you continue to think I was dead. Which, I’m sorry about. It was the only thing I could think of to get out and I was drowning. If I hadn’t faked it, I would have actually gone through with it, I would have killed myself and been done with it. Danny saved my life when he helped me fake my death. I know you’re angry, I know you’re hurt. But I need you to understand just how badly I was hurting for years. This is not meant to make you feel guilty, I honestly never wanted any of you to blame yourselves for my death. But it’s simply for you to understand that I had my reasons and I don’t regret them. The last two years with Danny have been some of the best times of my life and I’m immeasurably happy.

Please don’t look for me. Don’t look for Danny either no matter how much you want to. I’m happy. I’ll reach out when I’m ready.

Tim.

Bruce wiped the back of his hand against the tears that threatened to spill over as he read over the note once, twice, three times before he finally managed to look at the polaroid picture. On the film showed two men, one holding the other in a bridal position, the two of them wearing wedding bands that they happily showed off to the camera. Tim looked beyond happy cradled in Danny’s arms as they smiled at the camera and Bruce felt some of the heaviness lift.

He wiped at the tear that managed to escape his eyes and looked around, carefully to see if anyone noticed him when he saw two figures standing outside on the sidewalk across the street.

Danny just gave him an awkward smile as the man next to him threw his arm around Danny’s shoulders and from beneath his black sunglasses and ball cap gave Bruce a tiny smile and a peace sign before the two started walking down the sidewalk together.

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Sometimes, I wish I was as important as your email inbox - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Hurt comfort, could be considered angst. Miscommunication(?) established relationship, fem!reader. This was supposed to be pwp... then it turned in to this unholy abomination of hurt comfort because I have daddy issues and can’t fucking do this.

In which, Price has been a bit extra busy with work, and reader feels a bit… alone.

You open the door and step out of the bathroom, tugging your towel tighter around yourself as the steamy warmth from your shower mixes with the relatively cold air of the bedroom.

Price is sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out and phone in hand as he scrolls through the device- likely for something work related. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his eyes flit towards you and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

You hadn’t expected him to be home yet. For the past week, he’d been leaving early and getting back late. Usually, he left early enough that it was still dark outside, and that the only goodbye you’d get was a gentle nudge to wake you up and a kiss on the forehead- followed by a goodbye and a reassurance he’d be back before you knew it. You knew he had to go, it was some week-long training he was helping to administer- but that didn’t help to soothe the loneliness that came with an empty house and waking up to a cold spot where your husband usually lay. 

Most of the time, it was dark again by the time he got back. And he was too exhausted to do much more than shower, collapse into bed next to you, and mumble a few “love you’s” before tugging you against his chest and using you as a body pillow for the night.

Tonight though, he was home earlier than usual.

Not by much- it was still late, and had you been given another thirty minutes, you’d probably have been curled up in bed and- judging by how exhausted you felt- probably completely passed out. And of course- though he may be home earlier than expected… he wasn’t really free. The texts, emails, and paperwork were what most commonly followed him home from work- and it was stupid to be jealous of paperwork or goddamn Gmail. You knew that. You told yourself that constantly. You also constantly reminded yourself that you chose this, you knew what you were getting into with this man. But that didn’t help how starved you’d become for his touch and affection. And it certainly didn't help the nights where you would fall asleep next to your Price, yet feel more alone than ever- because there was something heartbreaking about falling asleep feeling cold, lonely, and unwanted, with the man you loved right next to you- but too busy with what felt like constant work.

Although… As much as you hated those nights, it was still better than when Price would come back with new injuries and guilt weighing heavy on his shoulder.

Today had been a bit of a rough day for you. Tiering, to say the least… especially now, as you realized tonight was shaping up to be one of the ones that hurt the most. And despite the guilt you felt at not even attempting conversation with Price after nearly a week of only goodbyes and goodnights, you really wanted nothing more than to put on your comfiest pajamas and curl up for sleep. 

You missed him dearly, but you were too emotionally and mentally drained to figure out what to do about it. Frankly, this was the only thing your exhausted self could think to do: go to sleep and hope that the rest of this (particularly) dreadful week passes quickly.

As exhausted as you may be… you also know that Price is probably about to stand up to take a shower of his own now that you’re out, and that by the time he’s done, you’ll probably be asleep- so you stifle a yawn and pad over to Price.

Once at Price’s side of the bed, you lean over to press a kiss to his forehead- a hand held over your chest to keep your towel from falling down when you do so. “Goodnight.” You mumble, stumbling a bit when you get a head rush as you try to stand back up.

When you start to sway, Price frowns and reaches out, placing a steadying hand on your upper hip. “You alright’, Love?” He asks, forehead knitted in worry.

You nod, ducking your head a bit and pressing a hand against your temple as you wait for the momentary dizziness to pass. “I’m fine, just stood up too fast.” You murmur, silent for a moment as you take a deep breath and start to straighten up.

From where you stand, you can see that Price’s phone is, in fact, open to his email inbox- and you can’t help the frown that accompanies the pang of dejection that shoots through your chest.

“You sure?” Price asks, his concern seemingly only growing as he speaks. “You look a bit off-color.”

You nod your head “yes”, trying your best to simply put Price’s worries to rest. You do know that you should talk to him, that you should take this opportunity to tell him how you feel, that you should stop this spiral you're in. But… you’re tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired emotionally- You’re just fucking tired, and everything feels like it’s all going shit. 

The hand on your hip moves upwards, and a strong arm wraps around your waist and gently tugs you down. You land with a bit of a bounce onto Price’s lap- his arm around your waist bracing you and keeping you upright as his other one comes up to press the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Bloody hell, you’re burning up.” Price says, the worry lines on his forehead deepening as he quickly drops his phone. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” He asks again, clearly not believing your early assertion of “fine”.

“‘Not sick, just took a hot shower.” You mumble, leaning into his hand where it still rests on your forehead- letting out a deep breath at the touch and letting your heavy eyes drift shut.

Price is clearly unconvinced- looking just as worried as before as he moves one hand to your upper back and the other to the nape of your neck- pulling you close and lifting your hair out of his way so he can check once again for a temperature.

The hand against your forehead must've broken something in you, because from that moment on you feel like a damn had burst. Like all the effort you’d been putting into hiding how bad you’ve needed this is violently swept away and forgotten. Even when you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself against him, you’re not close enough. No matter how much of you is touching him, you need more. No matter how much you press your face into his chest or the crook of his neck, you can still see the lights from the bedside lamp, smell the soap you used in the shower, and hear the neighbor's dog barking at god knows what. And that’s wrong- because all you want in this moment is Price. You want to be held impossibly close to him, you want your everything to be only him, just for a moment.

You don’t hear what he says, but you feel him take you by the shoulders and gently to get you to look up at him.

In response, you only whine and squeeze him tighter, pressing your face deeper into his neck and shaking your head no. 

He gets the hint- a deep sigh leaving his body as you feel him relaxing beneath you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head and you feel two large, warm, calloused hands slip under your thighs and lift- moving you so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Comfortable, Love?” He asks- to which you nod, goosebumps rising along your body as the air from the fan, even on its lowest setting, feels frigid against your still slightly damp skin- your towel from a moment ago having fallen as Price moved you. A hand runs along your arm, warming the skin slightly as you feel Price shift underneath you in preparation to stand up. 

“Do you want me to get you some clothes?” He asks- to which you, again, shake your head in response. This time, side to side as a “no”.

Price chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh traveling between you as he sets a hand on his nightstand, using it to support himself as lifts you two and yanks the covers out from where he had been sitting on them- settling back down and pulling them up to cover the two of you.

The comforter on you two’s bed is big and fluffy- perfect at trapping body heat and warming you up quickly. It’s probably your favorite blanket in the whole house, and you’ve been known to drag it out of the bed and curl up with it on the couch whenever you’re sick or it’s cold enough outside that the heater can’t keep up. Being wrapped in it is enough for you to- gradually- begin to loosen your hold on Price. Eventually, you’re not so much clinging to him as much as you’re simply draped over him.

But even when you release your death grip, Price doesn't try to get you up. He lets you stay, keeping you pressed close against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. He keeps one hand under the blanket, resting on your lower back- occasionally stroking at the soft skin with the pad of his thumb or idly tracing the dips and rises of your body as you drifted in and out of sleep. In his other hand, he held his phone. Likely going through emails or doing something or other work related. 

You drifted between varying levels of sleep and awakeness as he held you. Whenever your head would start to slip from where he’d propped it up against his shoulder, he’d pause from his work to gently set it back and make sure you were doing okay. He’d often press sweet, loving kisses to the top of your head, cheek, or temple, or give gentle, protective squeezes to your waist whenever he felt you stir awake, and he’d speak soothingly and stroke your hair whenever you started mumbling half-asleep words to yourself or him. 

At one point, you started drifting deeper and deeper to sleep- waking up less and having fewer moments of half-awake confusion after being moved or repositioned- only to later wake up flat on your back - now dressed in some pajamas- and with Price slowly pulling away from you.

You jerk awake, gasping for breath as you immediately latch onto the part of Price that’s closest to you- which turns out to be an arm. You immediately find him back at your side, tears running down your face as you beg for him to stay.

You have his right arm in a white-knuckled grip, and his other one is behind your back, holding you up as he looks down at you- the most worried you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shh, you’re okay- I’m right here.” Price says, his look of concern only worsening as you let go of his arm in favor of clinging to his torso.

“D-Don’t go!” You sob, the burst of adrenaline from waking up and thinking he was leaving flushing through your body and leaving you shaky and with a pounding heart.

“I’m not going to leave, Love.” he reassures you, one of his hands petting your head, his beard scratching at your cheek as he holds you close in an attempt to comfort you. “But you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t respond, hiding your face against him.

He pulls away, cupping your cheek gently and making you look at him. “Sweetheart, I’m worried. You wouldn’t talk at all once you got in my lap, and you freaked out when I tried to set you down. I need you to talk to me.”

You pull your face away, going back to hiding against his chest… but eventually nod.

Price is silent for a moment- thinking before he speaks again

“Did someone hurt you?”

A quick shake of your head “no” and a heavy sigh of relief from Price.

“Is it something that happened at work?”

Another shake of your head “no”.

“Is it something that I did?”

You hesitate… 

Your lack of answer tells Price enough, and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head. Had you moved your face from where you were hiding it, you would have seen not only the look of absolute love he was looking down at you with, but the thinly veiled guilt he held as he watched the way you clung to him.

“I figured, love.”

You hiccup, choking on your own tears as you do and starting to cough. Price rubs soothing circles into your back as you try to catch your breath.

“I know, I know. This training thing is hard, and I should've done better at making sure my girl was okay. I’m sorry, love.”

“Y-you don’t have anything to be sorry f-”

Price cuts you off with a stern look. 

“None of that, now. I should’ve made more of an effort to be there for you.” He pauses, kissing you sweetly before continuing. “I love you so, so much, and I’m so sorry I let you forget that and that I let things get to this point, okay?”

“I love you too- “ You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe away some of your tears- only for Price to come in with a tissue and gently start to blot at your red and blotchy face.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you about it…” You mumble, your face heating up as you try to take the tissue from Price to dry your own face, but failing to do anything more than get him to laugh a bit and start teasing you by keeping the tissue away.

“Tomorrow is the last day of the training, I’m going to take the day after off, and we’re going to do something, okay?” He says, laughing softly before letting you have the tissue and kissing you on the cheek.

Price’s hand finds yours, and he laces you two’s fingers together before pulling your still interlocked hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. 

“And I’m not just sorry about this week, I’m sorry about recently in general. I’m going to be better about making sure I make time and showing you how much I care for you, okay?”

You nod, giving one final wipe to your face before you started squirming in his hold in an attempt to sit up a bit more.

“I’m going to be better too- I’m not going to bottle things up… and I’m going to try harder to tell you when I’m feeling like something’s wrong instead of letting it get like this…”

Pride tugs Price’s smile wider, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face- tucking it behind your ear before pressing yet another kiss to your face.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’m glad.”

You smile, feeling like a weight has been lifted after your cry and conversation with Price. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as you possibly can in an attempt to convey how thankful you are. Of his patience, of his kindness, of him.

“I love you,” You say into his chest as you squeeze him

He lets out a soft “oof” at your squeeze, huffing in amusement before wrapping his own arms around you and giving you a (far from full strength) squeeze of his own.

“I love you too.”

[heartpascal]

i’ll be brave

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways that one.

▹— a/n: prepare for many father figure joel fics bc i love him!! also this is not the best thing ever but i love joel so!! hope you guys enjoy <33 planning on doing some more platonic fics where we see them develop more but alas. this is what you get rn!!

▹— tags: @loversdomain

masterlist

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Growing up in the QZ was all you had ever known, your life limited to the walls that surrounded you, trapped you. You’d heard stories about the world outside, though it was such a foreign concept to you, both of horror and nostalgia.

Until Joel, you were certain you’d never see it. The guards that patrolled were too strict, at least where you lived. It was easier to sneak further in than it was to get out, heading towards where most of the residents lived and worked.

Your father would’ve worked here, you thought to yourself, the very first time you’d managed to get into the centre of the QZ. He would have lived and worked and would have known your mother here. Sometimes, you wonder what life could have been like if he hadn’t of died mere weeks after you’d been born. There was a part of you that longed to know where he was from, actually from, before the world fell to pieces. To know his accent, the sound of his voice, the way he acted… anything.

They told you that your mother fled the day he died, leaving you abandoned in a flat crying for hours until the neighbours finally had enough and cracked open the door, finding you there: alone.

That’s how you had lived your life since, alone. Facing the current world with nobody to teach you, nobody to protect you, to help you escape.

You’re sure that Joel finding you was a miracle, though most people didn’t believe in those anymore, or so you were told. But you were certain that if one was to exist, it’d be this man.

The man who, despite his unwelcoming appearance, had hauled you away from the guards who had tried to beat you until you learned the lesson they were teaching. Who had given you shelter even when he knew nothing more than your name, who had lended you blankets and clothes to keep you warm.

Joel himself certainly wasn’t expecting you — your presence scared him. That day, when he saw those guards attacking you, he felt a glimpse of who he used to be in the life before, and he was unable to walk away. It terrified him, more than any clicker or runner ever could, that he may have some humanity left within him after all.

After Sarah, he turned his nose from anyone who could’ve needed his help. Other than those exempt from that, such as Tommy or Tess, he decided that it wasn’t his business.

But when you called out, being struck again by two armed guards, grown adults, something inside of his chest snapped. Like a tether that had been pulled far too taut, frayed away until the tension was too much to bare. He vividly remembers the blood that had dropped from his hands as he pulled you to your feet, remembers the way it matched the droplets that stained your face.

He wasn’t planning on you becoming part of his and Tess’ little… group, but once he found you, you seemed to stick. You didn’t particularly want to leave, anyway, and when the duo didn’t kick you out? You figured there was no harm in staying.

Now, you travelled with them, earning your place among the two adults, even when they suggested you stay home, where it was the slightest bit safer.

They had refused your requests to come with them on runs for a while, but the first time they allowed it was imprinted on your brain as if branded there by hot metal.

The brightness that came with being outside of the QZ was something you truly didn’t expect, though that could’ve just been in your brain. The QZ was dull, full of grey walls and faces and dirt, but out here was full. Greens and yellows and everything between covered the horizon, and you squinted to see as much of it as you possibly could.

Joel had huffed at you, nudging you lightly to keep you moving, but he wasn’t angry. He and Tess had shared a look, something going between their silence that you didn’t understand, and in that moment, you didn’t care to.

By now, you’d been coming on runs with the two of them for a few months, here and there. When they deemed it wasn’t too dangerous, of course.

Which is why today’s occurrence was so odd — it was a regular run, with you spending all your time in the great outdoors admiring everything that surrounded you, something akin to wonder in your eyes. Seeing all the buildings that had crumbled not long after your birth, taken over by nature and its most fearsome monster; cordyceps. As soon as you approached the desired hit of the day, you put your game face on. It was like flicking a switch in your brain — one second, you could have no worries in the world, stuck in your own head as you wandered around. The next, it was like every movement echoed in your ears, the slightest of sounds drawing your attention.

It was meant to be safe.

That is what Joel and Tess had said — god, that was the only reason they let you join them today, on one of their rare daylight outings: the safety factor.

So imagine your surprise when you slipped, ankle twisting as it went through the creaking floorboards of the building, followed by the clicking.

It was like your whole body froze solid, every muscle fibre tensing and pulling taut, eyes wide — a deer in headlights, Tess might’ve described you as, if her heart hadn’t have been beating so fast it could’ve burst.

Your head swivelled towards where Joel stood, just in front of you, to your right. He stared at you, something dark in his eyes, and you swallowed harshly as he held a finger to his lips, shushing you.

Each of your breaths came out silently, the only sound being the echoing clicks before the footsteps started coming towards the three of you, directly from your left. You swore you could hear the drip of blood in the quiet between each footstep of the monster.

You kept your eyes towards Joel and Tess, as much as you wanted to look to your left, where the sounds were starting to get louder. You watched them as they shared a conversation through their eyes, a nod of understanding held between the two of them. Joel’s expression was pained, but Tess put on her best brave face, giving you a wink.

“Hey, asshole!” Tess yelled, before scrambling to run ahead, a screech echoing in your ear, deafening you. Your breath hitched as she ran, and the clicker followed before your eyes.

As soon as its attention was on Tess, Joel was grasping you underneath your armpits, hauling your leg out of the hole it had fallen in. You held in your cries and winces as the broken floorboards left splinters and cuts all along your calf, your ankle hurting like a bitch.

He was pulling you out before you could utter a word, and by the time he managed to get you outside, your blood had covered your shoe. He leant you against the broken wall that had surrounded the building, ensuring you could stay upright — though you couldn’t put pressure on your leg — before he barked out a, “Stay here!” and ran back inside for Tess.

Your heart was beating in your ears, your throat clogged up as you did your best not to cry. This was your fault — had you not insisted upon joining them again, they would’ve never been put in this situation. They could die in there, and you were stuck out here, unable to even stand on your own two feet.

The pain in your leg was worsening now that you weren’t in imminent danger, though you were sure you were going to pass out when you heard the gun fire a single round.

“Are you guys okay?” You all but yelled as soon as you saw them emerging from the door, Tess leading, seemingly unharmed, with Joel following in much the same condition.

“We’re fine,” Tess breathed out as she approached you, leaning against the wall beside you. “It’s dead.”

“Are you alright?” Joel asked, his hand grasping on to your forearm, keeping you steady where you were shaking, holding yourself up against the rough surface of the wall. You nodded, breath still not able to properly filter out past the lump in your throat.

He knelt in front of you, hands reaching out and pulling the trouser leg up to see the full extent of your injury properly.

“Shit, kid,” he sighed out, looking up to Tess, “we’ve seen worse. We can manage.” He dropped the backpack where it was hung on his one shoulder, digging through it to tape some spare cloth around your injury, taping it around your ankle to keep it secure, too.

When he finally got you on your feet, silence lingering between all of you, he had to help you carry your own weight all the way back to your home in the QZ.

By the time you had managed to pick all the splinters out of your leg, Joel and Tess had gone to their beds, leaving you in the ‘living room,’ alone.

You felt sick, knowing you could have gotten all three of you killed today, just because you wanted a taste of the world that had long since decayed past anything worth wanting. Finally left on your own, the tears spilled past your eyelids, cleaving clean lines through the dirt and muck that caked your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but feel terrified, like you could still hear that damned creature coming for you. Like its footsteps echoed in your own home, right now.

With a fearful sob, you looked up to where you swore the sound come from, only to find Joel approaching, frown present on his face. His eyebrows were creased upwards, taking his expression from grumpy to worried.

Without a word from him, he came and sat beside you on the couch, wrapping the blanket that usually stayed firmly on the back of it around your shivering shoulders.

You clutched at it, wanting nothing more than to hide underneath it and pretend the entire day hadn’t happened — you wanted to forget the fear that shredded your veins, leaving your heart hammering. If you could just lose the entire memory of today, you would in a heartbeat, because the idea of leaving the QZ again with Joel and Tess made you feel sick.

Joel sighed, coming to kneel in front of you after you continuously avoided looking towards him. His hands reached out to your leg, the movement sending deja vu straight through you. He checked over your injury again, wrinkles caused by his frowning getting deeper. “You know it’s all okay, right?” He checked, finally, unsure what else to say in the quiet you usually tended to fill.

“It’s not o—okay, Joel,” you sobbed out, barely even breathing between your cries, “I al—almost got you and Tess kill—killed.”

“No, no, listen to me, kid. The… situation today was not your fault. Hear me? Not your fault. We thought it was safe, it wasn’t, that happens. We’re just glad you’re okay. Mostly.” He added on, nodding towards your bruised and bloodied leg.

“I tried so h—hard to be brave,” you continued, now even more hysterical as you thought of the way that thing approached you, how it could’ve killed any one of you had you made the slightest noise.

“I know,” Joel said, and he returned to your side at the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing it with his hand. “You were very brave, and I’m sorry you had to be.”

Part of Joel couldn’t help but feel like this was too much, too reminiscent of the daughter he’d lost. It made his head spin, even as he pulled you closer at the sound of your continuous cries, the way you could bring back that piece of him, the piece with some kind of humanity.

You didn’t have anybody else. All you had was Tess and Joel, and all he had was you and Tess, at least while his brother was out of town. This thing you had built, during the apocalypse and all, was a family.

“C’mon, kid,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his hand, “It’s alright. We’ll go out just to see the outside, next time. No risk of infected.”

“No, I—I don’t want to get you guys hurt again.” You responded, shaking your head and feeling your tears slow, remembering the pain that burned through your leg. You didn’t want to experience anything like today ever again, even if that meant staying inside the walls of the QZ for the rest of your life. “You didn’t even get what we went out for, because of me.”

His chest lurched, and he huffed a frustrated breath. “I don’t give one shit about that,” Joel said, leaving it to you to catch on to the end of that sentence that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. I care about you.

You couldn’t tell him how you truly felt — like dead weight, a burden they couldn’t get rid of. You stayed with them, ate their food and used up their supplies, and now you were ruining the only way for them to get a decent income, too. It’d upset him, hearing you say that aloud. You knew it would.

“I just… I don’t want to end up alone.” You translated, the best you could do to tell him that you needed the two of them, for more than just the ability to survive they provided you with.

You knew they missed the old world, everybody who had lived before the outbreak did, as much as they tried not to think about it. It was a deep longing for something you would never know. While their world was gone, they were your world.

Joel’s arm squeezed you close, like all the words that refused to leave his lips could be heard that way.

In a way, it told you everything you needed to know.

Your eyes closed soon enough, and you missed the look that crossed Joel’s face, the warmth in his eyes that he never thought would return after the loss of his first daughter. And yet here it was, present and warm as ever, as he looked at where you’d fallen asleep resting against him.

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Worship You

Pairing: Frank Castle x AFAB Reader

Main Masterlist

GIF Source: Papa-Evershed @papa-evershed

Summary: You’re feeling a little nervous and insecure about your postpartum body, Frank just wants to show you how much he loves you.

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). Mentions of pregnancy, birth, and postpartum AFAB body. New mom insecurities and fears. Lactation kink, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected P in V, use of lube. Pet names (baby, sweetheart, mama)

WC: 2600

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

Four and a half months, that’s how long it had been since you’d given birth to the precious angel that was your daughter. It was the best day of your life and changed so many things so quickly.

Particularly, your body. You were so proud of it; growing and carrying a life for 9 months, enduring 14 hours of labor and delivery, producing daily nutrition to feed this tiny human you loved so dearly. You lamented all the times in your youth when you would pick and pull at your skin, over analyzing the ways your body could “improve” and wishing to abide more by the over photoshopped standards you saw in magazines. How foolish you were.

Now you loved your body. She was a warrior. A Goddess.

But still, even with your new found appreciation for her, it was difficult some days to not feel like a stranger in your own skin. You knew pregnancy and birth would bring about irreversible changes to your body. But nothing could have prepared you for the emotional wave of grief and confusion that came with all the new feelings and quirks that come with life after pregnancy. 

Which was probably why you had been avoiding having sex. 

Sure sex had been uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy, you and Frank inventing the most insane positions just to find a comfortable way to do it. Your body had already changed so much then, but even more so now. Would he still love you like he used to? Would the things you used to enjoy still feel good? Would there be any pain?

You’d been cleared at your 8 week postpartum appointment to move forward with all sexual activity, but still had put it off.

Frank, of course, never pushed the issue. In fact he never brought it up at all, too tired and busy doting on your daughter and making sure your recovery went smoothly. Daily, you got to witness the strength and determination he showed to welcome this second chance despite the demons of his past. He was the epitome of a perfect father and partner, which only turned you on and made you love him even more.

“Ithinkweshouldhavesextonight” you finally blurted out one morning, need for intimate connection and relief outweighing the anxiety.

Frank had just gotten your daughter down for a nap and was at the kitchen sink washing out your pumping equipment. 

He turned around so casually to face you and leaned against the counter, as if you had just asked him what the weather was. God, did he have to look so sexy when he was just existing?

He looked you up and down and with an eyebrow corked replied softly “Yeah? That somethin’ you’re ready for?”

You were still reeling from the shock of actually saying it out loud and stuttered out “I… I think so.”

Frank nodded calmly. 

“Okay.” 

And then he was back to his task without another word.

He didn’t bring it up for the rest of the day, going through the evening routine of dinner, diaper changes, and bathtime with your daughter as he normally would.

Meanwhile, your nerves were on edge, half with anxiety, half with anticipation. 

The last feeding of the night was done and your daughter drifted to sleep in your arms as you rocked her. You gingerly set her down in her bassinet, careful not to wake her and have to start the whole routine again.

It was typical to find Frank leaning in the door frame of the nursery, happily observing the site of his family. So you weren’t surprised when you turned around and found him standing there with a grin plastered across his face.

“Hey beautiful.” 

“Hey big guy.”

“You still feeling up to…” he asked

“Yeah,” You nodded. “C’mon let's go to the bedroom.”

You reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.

“I got somethin’ for you first.” 

The bathtub was to the brim with bubbles. Based on the aroma in the air, you could tell it was the good kind you liked to buy at cute little boutiques in Brooklyn and not the Johnson and Johnson brand you used for your daughter’s baths.

Frank pressed his chest to your back and placed a gentle kiss to your crown.

“Gotta get you relaxed first.”

Docile fingers danced under the hem of the shirt you wore; a dingy, grey henley that once belonged to him, as he slowly began to undress you.

You silently cursed at yourself for not putting on something sexier earlier. Not that any of your old lingerie fit you, but anything more put together than this would have been better.

“Where’s that brain of yours goin’ now?”

Goddamnit how could he read you so well?

“Just wishing I put a little more effort in to seducing you.” 

“Eh, you know you don’t need nothin’ fancy to do that.”

The kisses he peppered to your now exposed shoulder sent a shiver up your spine as he continued.

“My woman’s so goddamn pretty, it’s been torture keeping my hands to myself.” 

Frank’s plan worked wonders as you found yourself emerging from a half-hour in the scented warm water feeling relaxed and floaty.

He was waiting for you in the bedroom, wearing nothing but clean grey sweatpants that rode low to tease and tantalize you. Good to know he still remembered just what you liked.

He eyed you up and down as you walked towards him, closing the gap between you and pulling you flush to him.

A gentle hand ran down your cheek as you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.

“Okay, here’s how this is gonna go,” he said “I’m gonna go nice and slow,”

You let out a huff, which caused Frank’s eyebrows shoot up.

“And you’re not gonna whine about it.”

“Fine.” you conceded

“If at any point, anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable, even a little, you tell me and we stop. You got that?”

You nodded your head gently, leaning into the hand he still had resting where your jaw and neck meet.

“Atta girl.”

His lips were soft when they met yours, gentle but not hesitant. He took care to guide you backwards and sit you down on the bed gingerly.

It always fascinated you how hands that inflicted so much violence and death could show you such tenderness and love, could provide so much pleasure. Even moreso now seeing how docile he was with your newborn.

The tie of your robe undid easily and the soft fabric fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap, exposing you to him.

His eyes were full of reverence as he once again stared at you, admiring with a boyish grin before he dove in and covered your skin in the sweetest of kisses. Each meeting of his lips to your shoulders, your neck, your chest was the rising sun of spring, reigniting your body from hibernation.

His nimble fingers gently grabbed at your breast as he continued tracing his lips across you, giving it a small squeeze before twirling your nipple under his thumb.

It was just enough stimulation to release a few small drips of milk, followed by a tiny stream.

You pushed at his shoulder to get him off and attempted to stop the liquid with a bit of your robe.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought about pumping before we got started, but I was hoping maybe she had enough before bed that it’d be alright.”

“It’s okay baby.” Frank practically whispered, swiping at the opaque fluid with his thumb.

“They sore?” he asked

“A little.”

“Can I help?”

You practically felt a flood rush between your legs at his request and nodded eagerly.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees before you. His breath was hot against your skin as he licked all the way up from your ribcage to your nipple, gathering the warm nectar on his tongue. 

He hummed in satisfaction as he took your nipple fully into his mouth. The divine mix of building pleasure and sweet relief filled your body as he began to suckle, soft pouty lips encompassing your breast.

Big hands wrapped around your lower back, pressing indents into your skin with his calloused fingers as he held you close to him, his eyes now squeezed shut as he continued to nurse.

You threw your head back, groaning at the borderline overwhelm of feelings that ripped through your body.

Frank laid you down slowly, upper lips dragging along your skin as he released your breast and began to kiss down, allowing a spurt of milk to fly into the air.

As he moved down, your hands instinctively flew to cover the loose skin of your stomach, still laden with lighter stripes from where your daughter stretched your flesh as she grew in utero.

His thick fingers grabbed at your wrists to stop you.

“No.” he commanded and instinctually you groaned in rebuttal, trying to free your hands from his grip.

“Ain’t no hiding from me baby. C’mon.”

The low roughness of his voice always made you want to obey whatever he requested. You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Look, I know you’re still gettin used to all of it, but you’re still my woman and I love you. Shit, you’re even more my woman now that you’ve had my kid. You think I ain’t gonna worship every bit of you? This beautiful body that gave me my daughter, that gave me a second chance I don’t deserve. You think I ain’t gonna love every inch of you just as much as before?”

You couldn’t help but grin at his praise and nodded, leaving your hands at your side and permitting him to continue his work.

Done with taking his time, but still a certain gingerness to his movements, he finally kissed his way to between your legs. You were practically squirming with need as he teased his hot breath against your core.

The sweet relief when he finally ran his tongue through your folds had you practically jumping off the mattress with how calico-like your back arched. You were sensitive, having had no stimulation there in months. You hadn’t even dared to touch yourself in any way that wasn’t medically related, afraid to even test the waters.

Once he was satisfied with the amount he slicked up your petals with his tongue, he went back to being slow and careful, experimenting with your limits by tickling your entrance with the tip of his finger.

Another nod from you and he pushed in just to the first knuckle, then the second. All you could do was whimper with the pleasure of finally feeling him again, bucking your hips to encourage him to go further.

He massaged your walls a little before adding a second finger and you were in heaven.

It was so familiar the way he worked you over with his fingers and mouth. More and more of your fears dissipated with every movement, the luminous pleasure building inside took them over. 

Your orgasm crashed into you unexpectedly, taking not much at all to get you there. It made you feel normal and human and real again. 

Tenderly, he kissed at your thighs as you worked to steady your breathing.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?”

Another nod. Usually it was Frank who was mostly silent and you doing all the talking. But not tonight.

“That good, huh?”

A giggle escaped you.

“Talk to me pretty girl, what you need now?”

“You Frank, wanna feel you inside me.”

“Okay. How? Gotta do whatever’s gonna be most comfortable for you.”

“I think I should be on top. Have the most control that way.”

“You got it.”

Frank rummaged around the nightstand and pulled out a condom and the bottle of lube. He shed his sweatpants and made his way back to you. 

Spreading your legs, he applied a generous amount of lube, using his fingers to push it inside you a little. Satisfied with that preparation, he layed down beside you and put the condom on. You tossed your robe to the floor and crawled to him, maneuvering to hover over his length.

He held you in place with one strong hand and ran the back of his finger down your cheek with the other.

“Remember baby, anything hurts, we stop.”

You nodded, then reached down to guide him to your entrance.

It was a delicious stretch as you slowly sank down, relaxing away the last of your fears about pain. It felt good. It felt different. But it felt good.

The sigh of relief once he was fully seated inside you echoed around the room. You sat there for a moment, enjoying the pleasure. It felt like coming home after being away for too long.

You gave a rock of your hips, steady and easy, feeling the drag of his cock against your velvet walls. 

Again. And again. 

Until you found a comfortable rhythm and lost yourself to the pleasure.

Meanwhile, Frank’s hands continued to explore, reveling in the feel of your skin under his touch after missing it for so long. Observing the way pleasure twisted and contorted on your face as you rode him, he couldn’t take his gaze off of you.

Temptation won him over, he raised his hand to paw at your other breast. Just a few pinches to your tender nipple and the leak began.

Rising to his elbows, he once again took your breast in his mouth. The warmth of his soft lips latching and sucking sent a wave of goosebumps across your skin as you continued to thrust against him.

Carding your fingers through his cropped hair, you held his head to you, encouraging him to continue.

His fingers found the other breast, squeezing so the stream of milk began once more, flowing down the curve of your tit.

“Frank, I’m so close.” you said, punctuated by the slap of skin.

He moved to bury his face between your boobs and kissed your breast bone, husking out “That’s it baby, let me feel you. Atta girl” 

Every dial in your body was cranked up to maximum capacity and it wasn’t long before you erupted, white hot pleasure coursing from head to toe as you rhythmically clenched around him.

You grabbed at his shoulders in an attempt to not fall over and he shushed at the whimpers you released with every spasm of your walls.

Frank wasn’t far behind, cradling your face as he pulled you to press your forehead to his.

A grunt escaped him as he thrusted up into you a final time. His gaze bore into yours as he released, attempting to say a million words he couldn’t form right now.

Cautiously, he tipped sideways and laid you down beside him on the bed, pulling you to lay on his glistening chest. 

“You feeling good?”

“Yeah, Frank that was perfect.”

“Good baby, I’m glad we…”

But his words were cut off, the siren cry coming from down the hall stopped both of you in your tracks.

You moved to get up but Frank pushed at your shoulder.

“Shh shh shh I got her mama. You stay put.”

You closed your eyes as you listened to him coo her back to sleep from down the hall, content to live in this little bubble of joy forever.

For you @itwasthereaminuteago

[angel-bugz]

Part One | Above & Below.

18+, MDNI Word count: 1.3k A/N: Okay, first proper fic in a while... i really hope you guys enjoy reading this. my writing skills are a little rusty at the moment but they will definitely improve in the next parts.

No one was surprised when they bought an apartment together. Wherever Ghost was, Soap was not too far behind. Whenever Ghost was absent, all questions were directed to Soap. The two were brothers in arms, the best of mates - twin flames, yin-and-yang. Inseparable. Ghost and Soap. Simon and Johnny.

It took Simon very little convincing to move into an apartment with Johnny. Simon tended to be in an overall bad mood about living on base, especially after an exhaustive week. Johnny believed that being away from base on the weekends would probably do both of them some good.

After a long and particularly rough week, the Task Force was brought to the local bar not too far from base under “captain’s orders”. It was rare to see the group at the bar without reason, though Price knew that a few drinks were needed to lighten the mood. (He definitely needed a few himself).

Johnny and Simon were eventually left to themselves at their usual booth in the bar. It was an unusually quiet night for the end of the week. Johnny didn’t care too much for what the others were doing; he had Simon to himself. And there it was, those miserable complaints again, about having to wake up hungover in the same bed he woke up in for his work duties. About having to deal with the rowdy, drunken others on the way back to base. Perfect timing for Johnny to–

“What about those apartments down the street?

Smooth Johnny, real smooth. Simon’s complaining ceased. He gave a short hum, considering Johnny’s suggestion. Wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Maybe. Bit expensive, aren’t they?”

“We could rent together– …just a thought.”

Simon had no reason to decline Johnny’s offer. The town wasn’t a terrible place to live in, and everything was close by. These specific apartments were known to be the best in town, given their high rent.

“Alright. We’ll sort it out tomorrow, then.”

Simon’s decision was given easily – no second thoughts, no hesitation. He was almost too casual about the deal. Really, he was excited to finally move away from base, living in peace and quiet. A small taste of a normal life outside the military. Johnny knew Simon well enough to recognize that – able to read him by only his eyes at this point. 

Johnny was barely able to stifle the grin on his face. 

There was one tiny problem, though. 

Johnny’s feelings towards Simon – which could be described similarly to that of a high school girl’s crush. Of course, Johnny wouldn’t ever cross the line with Simon. He never had any intention to overstep the boundaries of their friendship. However, living with Simon would prove to be a challenge for Johnny. He could only ignore his feelings around Simon for so long. He was definitely worried that he might slip up, come across as too weird or pushy, or ruin everything that he and Simon had built between them. Desires for Simon aside, Johnny was overthinking every little thing that could go wrong.

The one thing Johnny wasn’t worried about was missing his chance to confess to Simon. He had plenty of time ahead of him! There was no need to rush, and it wasn’t as if Simon was popular with the ladies. In fact, Simon was extremely unlucky when it came to women. 

To put it lightly, Simon was… socially off-putting. He was scarily tall, with a large build, and not to mention painfully awkward when talking to women. Despite his intimidating nature, he just really had no fucking clue how to talk to women in situations that weren’t work-related. Sure, he could talk to women as a lieutenant, a teammate, a co-worker. Even as a consumer at the grocery store. But romantically? Not a chance.

It wasn’t unusual to see a woman talking to Kyle or Johnny at the bar. Sometimes Price, too, had a woman trying to make advances on him, not yet aware of the pretty wife he had at home. Everyone had been hit on at least once in that bar. Everyone except Simon, whose conversations with civilian women at the bar (if any) were always short-lived and were limited to questions about his friends. There was absolutely no interest in him.

So, Johnny was certain that by the time he was ready to confess to Simon, he’d still be single – and hopefully open to the idea of being with a guy (or, more specifically, with him).

It had been almost a month since Johnny and Simon had moved into their new home. Two weekends was all it took before they finally settled. Now on their third, the apartment was fully furnished, their belongings were unpacked, and the fridge was nearly stocked. 

That was the first time you saw Simon – properly, this time. He was standing next to you, waiting for the elevator. A plastic bag in his hand, clearly having returned from the grocery store. You’d briefly seen the new neighbors moving in a couple of weeks ago, but you weren’t able to work up the courage to introduce yourself. Besides, they didn’t live on your floor, so it wasn’t like you were really their neighbor.

You tried not to stare at him for too long, but it was hard to ignore his generally large presence. Most people in the apartment complex were positive and friendly, but Simon didn’t pay an ounce of attention to you.

You quickly learned that the man was not a talker. In fact, you didn’t even get his name.

You glanced down at your phone screen every so often, but the silence between you was awkward (for you, at least. Simon didn’t seem to notice it). You felt like you had to say something, right? He was a new resident, after all. 

“You, uh… moved in recently, didn’t you?”

Your polite voice broke the silence, the question asked for the sole purpose of making conversation. You turned slightly to face Simon, your eyes flicking over his form. It was hard to gauge anything about him, especially with that black surgical mask covering the lower half of his face. 

He nodded at your question and offered nothing more. He glanced at you once – only for a second.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to an empty cabin. He let you step in first before following. You didn’t get the chance to ask which floor he was headed to before he pushed down the button on the elevator himself – the number seven lighting up as it was pressed. 

“...How’re you finding the apartment?”

Your voice broke the silence again. You both stood in opposite corners of the elevator, against the back wall. He looked at you as you spoke, his eyes meeting yours for half a second before quickly looking away.

“S’alright.” he muttered, followed by a shrug. His single response fell flat. He was clearly uninterested in small talk. That short answer alone had left the conversation fizzling out fast. The elevator ascended, slowly. Floor 3… 4… 5…

“Well, if you need anything, I’m just on the sixth floor… apartment sixty-four.”

You offered sweetly, just before the elevator doors opened at your floor. You doubted he would need anything from you - it’s the thought that counts, right? You gave him a smile before stepping off, but he only responded with a nod.

Leaving Simon standing there, feeling like a complete idiot. He mentally face palmed himself as he watched you walk off, as the elevator doors closed. Wishing he’d had the guts to ask for your number – or, hell, your name at least. His surgical face mask barely hid the pink dusting his cheeks.

He was sure he’d get another chance – especially now that he knew you resided in the apartment directly below his. He had to have another chance with you.

Divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

Taglist: @sleep101 @lostintransist @callsign-selkie